(This essay was originally written in early 2012, but not posted until now, so it doesn’t reflect recent events such as the the Freeh report or the NCAA penalties. Neverthelss, I thought I would post it largely unrevised, to capture some thoughts from that earlier time. I did add a reference to the word ‘humane’ and three sentences at the very end.)
Pride and Identity
The focus of this post is not to directly address the sadness, anger or discomfort in the community due to the damage Sandusky caused, nor to try to repair Penn State’s reputation. How we feel and what people think of us is unimportant compared to our obligation to identify and address the causes of failure. Understanding causes is crucial to the long-term health and reputation of Penn State as both an institution and as a collection of individuals.
To support victim services and research into preventing child abuse is penance. Penance is an important acknowledgement of shared responsibility, but an incomplete response to scandal: anyone can support efforts towards prevention and helping victims, but only Penn Staters can identify and cure a problem with our own culture. To the extent that a community’s pride derives from a sense of shared responsibility for accomplishment, it also obligates a sense of shared responsibility for failure.
The problem: lack of report
McQueary could have reported Sandusky’s conduct to non-Penn State legal authorities but he did not. His father could have but did not. Their family friend could have but did not. Paterno could have but did not. Schultz could have but did not. Curley could have but did not. The janitor who saw similar things on another occasion could have but did not. The janitor’s colleagues could have but did not. All of the reporting that did occur remained within the cultural family and elicited a tepid response. Assumptions and decisions were made to minimize the perceived severity of offenses. The only reporting that projected outside of the cultural family and reached the police was initiated by mothers.
A diagnosis: pride
Pride in oneself is a form of self-reward: I did well and I allow myself to recognize that. Pride in the accomplishments of another person is empathic. A parent who is proud of a child is not thinking of how the child’s achievements reflect on their abilities as a parent. Instead, the wall of identity between the two dissolves and the parent temporarily becomes the child, thereby sharing and reinforcing the sense of accomplishment from which pride derives, within the protective and nurturing glow of parenthood.
Pride in a group of which one is a member comes in two forms that I will call communal and tribal. Communal pride derives from shared effort: I am proud of the group’s accomplishment because I contributed to it. Think of the pride of a corporate design team that delivers a successful product through significant, concrete contributions from every team member. Tribal pride does not require a concrete personal contribution: I am proud of the accomplishments of some members of the group – achievements to which I myself did not substantially contribute – simply because the wall of identity between myself and the accomplishers has dissolved: they are me. Tribal pride has a spiritual quality. I am proud of Penn State when the football team wins, although my only contribution was to cheer and feel, actions which required no skill and did not contribute to the victory to a degree commensurate to my emotional investment.
Why the lack of report of Sandusky’s behavior? Most inaction is ultimately caused by fear. Fears have many sources, overt and deep. Let me pick out a subtle one that strikes deeper than the fear of bad publicity. To report Sandusky’s behavior outside of the cultural circle would establish it as part of the shared tribal identity, as an acknowledged characteristic of the cultural circle in relation to outside observers. This fear is at heart not a fear of repercussions (although certainly that fear exists). Instead it derives from a danger to one’s own identity. I am the football team. The good of the football team is part of me. I am Sandusky. The bad of Sandusky is part of me. Identity dissolves. We recoil in disgust.
We reject him from the group, yes, but only after he was invited in.
How can reasonable people manage to ignore the reporting obligations that follow from evidence of wrongdoing? We are defined as much or more by what we do not think as by that which we do: the brain at every moment must choose one conscious thought from among thousands of possibilities: these are not decisions in the normal sense, but instead a function of the deeper substrate of mind. The 99.9% of thoughts not taken often provide more insight than do the visible 0.1%.
This mental filter takes many forms: unwillingness to hear, compulsion not to examine, inability to confront. Not-thinking skills amplify by reflection between actors in a shared culture, through unconscious signaling or shared presumptions. Discomfiting details can be skirted. Reasons can be found to minimize. Collective attention can be focussed on reassuring distractors (reinforced by shared key words: “humane”) rather than disturbing possibilities (victims, confrontation, embarrassment, threats to identity and interests).
The process need not be conscious and often isn’t. Avoidance is most insidious when it’s unconscious, since that circumvents the executive quality-control regions of the brain. It can take the subtle form of momentary glances and body language; these are especially effective when exchanged amongst people who share a desire to avoid the same 0.1%. No-one wants to think of themselves as unethical, so reasons for decisions will be found. Even very bad decisions.
We are all responsible – at some level – for the filters that define what we willfully or not-so-willfully ignore.
Concluding thoughts
The shared identity of tribal pride is particularly effective when centered around individual exemplars. The longer a particular exemplar persists, the stronger the cultural anchor. Exemplars of shared identity reach that station through veneration. Thoughtful veneration for cause is admirable; unthinking veneration for identity is useful for social organization but can be dangerous for public choices.
Communal pride is extraordinarily powerful. It can enable soaring accomplishments of positive impact. But power is not goodness and from it can flow both darkness and light.
