The further I get away from having a baby in my house, the less tolerant I am of babies and small children and their moron parents. Who in the world would perch a booster seat on top of a kitchen stool? A parent who's lucky their child fully recovered from a skull fracture, that's who.
When my daughter was little, I seem to have had a window where I liked, or at least put up with, other people's children. Now I think I'm back to the "childfree" tendencies I had before I dove into parenthood. Though where I didn't like kids too much back then, now it's more that I get irritated at children's misbehaviors that I think they wouldn't exhibit if their parents would just put some time into thoughtful parenting.
Almost as irritated as I get at misleading headlines. That article's headline mentions high chairs, but the skull fracture child was injured because the parent had strapped her into a booster seat and hitched the seat to a tall chair. Predictably, the now top-heavy piece of furniture fell over when the child pushed against the kitchen counter. Jesus, what a stupid, avoidable injury that could have been a real tragedy.
06 December 2013
05 December 2013
Drexel Law is Drexel Law again, follow-up
Of course, the most reasonable explanation for Drexel Law's ending its naming rights relationship this week isn't that Earle Mack has been spending his days hunched over a computer, looking at the school's statistics and becoming disillusioned with his namesake. It's far more likely that the school simply failed to continue cultivating the relationship with its donor. You can't just take the $30 million and run; you have to keep in touch with the benefactor. To be clear, I don't know that the school administration wasn't on the phone to Mack's secretary twice a week. But I do see that they don't have their own dedicated officer for institutional advancement. There's not even much outreach to alumni, from what I can see on the Events and Continuing Legal Education ("There are currently no scheduled Continuing Legal Education events") listings.
Here's something I notice looking at the make-up of the school's faculty and staff. Outside of administrative support, Drexel Law is run by ex-lawyers, law professors, and former court administrators. But what you don't see in the faculty and administration bios are individuals with a background in actual academic administration. Do law schools get tripped up with their own myth of the "fexible J.D."? Or has Drexel Law, at least, done so? You need professional academic administrators to run an academic institution.
You need institutional advancement professionals to maintain positive, long-term, fruitful relationships with past donors. It's way beyond having a little public ceremony to announce a gift. When there's a donor who gives $30 million to an organization, it needs to be a specific person's job to reach out to that person multiple times per year to check in, visit personally, chat them up over an expensive dinner, and explore the future of their contribution to the institution. A benefactor who is not cultivated will feel no reason to continue funding a gift, or to ever give again, or to suggest their past beneficiary to their rich friends.
It's not rocket science. It's Institutional Advancement 101, and it's based on what your mom was trying to teach you when she sat you down to write thank-you notes for your birthday presents.
But beyond the 101, this is an entire discipline. Practicing law for a few years doesn't prepare you for academic fundraising, even if you focused on tax law or served on a couple of non-profit boards. Never mind if you've been the ivory tower your entire career, or if you worked for the government. The organization has to hire actual professionals in the field of academic or nonprofit development.
Who knows what Drexel Law's development strategy is. Likely everything is channeled through the university's development office and they have little control over the big institutional advancement picture. But from where I'm sitting, it really looks as though someone at Drexel Law dropped the ball in this particular relationship, and that is a huge blunder.
Here's something I notice looking at the make-up of the school's faculty and staff. Outside of administrative support, Drexel Law is run by ex-lawyers, law professors, and former court administrators. But what you don't see in the faculty and administration bios are individuals with a background in actual academic administration. Do law schools get tripped up with their own myth of the "fexible J.D."? Or has Drexel Law, at least, done so? You need professional academic administrators to run an academic institution.
You need institutional advancement professionals to maintain positive, long-term, fruitful relationships with past donors. It's way beyond having a little public ceremony to announce a gift. When there's a donor who gives $30 million to an organization, it needs to be a specific person's job to reach out to that person multiple times per year to check in, visit personally, chat them up over an expensive dinner, and explore the future of their contribution to the institution. A benefactor who is not cultivated will feel no reason to continue funding a gift, or to ever give again, or to suggest their past beneficiary to their rich friends.
It's not rocket science. It's Institutional Advancement 101, and it's based on what your mom was trying to teach you when she sat you down to write thank-you notes for your birthday presents.
But beyond the 101, this is an entire discipline. Practicing law for a few years doesn't prepare you for academic fundraising, even if you focused on tax law or served on a couple of non-profit boards. Never mind if you've been the ivory tower your entire career, or if you worked for the government. The organization has to hire actual professionals in the field of academic or nonprofit development.
Who knows what Drexel Law's development strategy is. Likely everything is channeled through the university's development office and they have little control over the big institutional advancement picture. But from where I'm sitting, it really looks as though someone at Drexel Law dropped the ball in this particular relationship, and that is a huge blunder.
04 December 2013
Drexel Law is Drexel Law again
Drexel University's law school, inaugurally known as its College of Law, then re-named after commercial real estate magnate Earle Mack, has now been re-re-named the Drexel University College of Law again. Tongues are being wagged; tweets are being tweeted; and a few alumni colleagues of mine have questions.
Didn't the alumni association just start an "@earlemackalumni.org" e-mail service?
The announcement said it was a financial decision considered mutually between Mack and the law school. But couldn't Mack simply liquidate some of his portfolio, or place it in the instrument funding the naming rights? He must have actively wanted his name off the school. Did the administration piss him off personally? Does he object to the new two-year J.D. scheme?
Is it Drexel Law's little bar passage problem? The declining gender and ethnic
diversity among its student population? The dropping U.S. News ranking?
Is there another sugar daddy waiting in the wings?
Does this mean all that swag and my diploma are collector's items, now?
One particularly cynical alumnus is predicting the imminent death of the law school, once the university decides to quit subsidizing it, not seeing a reasonable ROI on the perceived prestige of having a law school attached to it. I'm not sure I'd go that far. But I do think Drexel Law is apt to become eastern Pennsylvania's Duquesne -- the also-ran school in Pittsburgh that you can never recall when you try to list all the law schools in the Commonwealth, whose grads also seem to struggle a little with the bar exam, but out of which you can probably wrangle a job in a small firm or government in western or central Pennsylvania once you do pass, especially if you're Catholic.
Kind of like Villanova Law and employment in southeastern Pennsylvania. Burn!
So, will Drexel Law still exist in 10 years? Will they find a new buyer for the naming rights? Will anyone call the school by that name, or will it be like Temple Law, which nobody but the bumper stickers refers to as the Beasley School of Law?
Full e-mail sent to alumni under the cut:
Didn't the alumni association just start an "@earlemackalumni.org" e-mail service?
The announcement said it was a financial decision considered mutually between Mack and the law school. But couldn't Mack simply liquidate some of his portfolio, or place it in the instrument funding the naming rights? He must have actively wanted his name off the school. Did the administration piss him off personally? Does he object to the new two-year J.D. scheme?
Is it Drexel Law's little bar passage problem? The declining gender and ethnic
diversity among its student population? The dropping U.S. News ranking?
Is there another sugar daddy waiting in the wings?
Does this mean all that swag and my diploma are collector's items, now?
One particularly cynical alumnus is predicting the imminent death of the law school, once the university decides to quit subsidizing it, not seeing a reasonable ROI on the perceived prestige of having a law school attached to it. I'm not sure I'd go that far. But I do think Drexel Law is apt to become eastern Pennsylvania's Duquesne -- the also-ran school in Pittsburgh that you can never recall when you try to list all the law schools in the Commonwealth, whose grads also seem to struggle a little with the bar exam, but out of which you can probably wrangle a job in a small firm or government in western or central Pennsylvania once you do pass, especially if you're Catholic.
Kind of like Villanova Law and employment in southeastern Pennsylvania. Burn!
So, will Drexel Law still exist in 10 years? Will they find a new buyer for the naming rights? Will anyone call the school by that name, or will it be like Temple Law, which nobody but the bumper stickers refers to as the Beasley School of Law?
Full e-mail sent to alumni under the cut:
Reminder of the days before Griswold
Posting this to remind people what life was like for American women before Griswold v. Connecticut:
Before the 1965 Griswold ruling, states were allowed to outlaw contraception, even to married people. Let that sink in. Before 1965, it was illegal in many states for married women to get birth control. And it wasn't until 1972 (Eisenstadt v. Baird) that the Supreme Court found fit to reject bans on contraception for unmarried people.
This isn't just within living memory; these results are actually younger than a lot of people in my generation -- I was born in the early 1970s.
So when I ran across this ad a few days ago, in a magazine called Personal Romances, aimed at teen girls and young women and published by the Ideal Publishing Corp. out of New York, I kind of felt blindsided. I knew, intellectually, that my parents hadn't had access to the pill and diaphragms and condoms and so on, as easily as I had by the time I was sexually mature. And of course I know the basic facts behind Griswold, Eisenstadt, and their progeny. But there's knowing the cases and the penumbral convolutions of law they led to; and there's living in a world where you can't plan the next few months of your life -- never mind the next 20 years -- because you don't know if you're going to get pregnant, and you won't be able to terminate the pregnancy because it's not yet 1973.
Maybe you've had a baby or two, and your family feels complete. Or the pregnancy experience was terrible. It damaged your health; or your marriage is in bad shape and you don't want to bring another baby into the mix; or (literally) heaven forbid you'd simply like to have sex without marriage or babies or both. I can't imagine being in these positions, because by the time I was at university I could get free condoms at the student center whenever I wanted them. Contraception wasn't controversial.
When did contraception become controversial again?
Note that one of the biggest selling points of the gadget up there is that it's "sanctioned by churches of all denominations." These are the same churches who are behind the Hobby Lobby case and the hilarious assertion that the only thing preventing the Catholic church from supporting health care for sick Americans is that Obamacare pays for pills. But religious oppression is the same, whether it comes in a Supreme Court opinion or a plain paper wrapper. And I'm very sorry to say I'm not optimistic about the result we'll see in June in Hobby Lobby.
Before the 1965 Griswold ruling, states were allowed to outlaw contraception, even to married people. Let that sink in. Before 1965, it was illegal in many states for married women to get birth control. And it wasn't until 1972 (Eisenstadt v. Baird) that the Supreme Court found fit to reject bans on contraception for unmarried people.
This isn't just within living memory; these results are actually younger than a lot of people in my generation -- I was born in the early 1970s.
So when I ran across this ad a few days ago, in a magazine called Personal Romances, aimed at teen girls and young women and published by the Ideal Publishing Corp. out of New York, I kind of felt blindsided. I knew, intellectually, that my parents hadn't had access to the pill and diaphragms and condoms and so on, as easily as I had by the time I was sexually mature. And of course I know the basic facts behind Griswold, Eisenstadt, and their progeny. But there's knowing the cases and the penumbral convolutions of law they led to; and there's living in a world where you can't plan the next few months of your life -- never mind the next 20 years -- because you don't know if you're going to get pregnant, and you won't be able to terminate the pregnancy because it's not yet 1973.
Maybe you've had a baby or two, and your family feels complete. Or the pregnancy experience was terrible. It damaged your health; or your marriage is in bad shape and you don't want to bring another baby into the mix; or (literally) heaven forbid you'd simply like to have sex without marriage or babies or both. I can't imagine being in these positions, because by the time I was at university I could get free condoms at the student center whenever I wanted them. Contraception wasn't controversial.
When did contraception become controversial again?
Note that one of the biggest selling points of the gadget up there is that it's "sanctioned by churches of all denominations." These are the same churches who are behind the Hobby Lobby case and the hilarious assertion that the only thing preventing the Catholic church from supporting health care for sick Americans is that Obamacare pays for pills. But religious oppression is the same, whether it comes in a Supreme Court opinion or a plain paper wrapper. And I'm very sorry to say I'm not optimistic about the result we'll see in June in Hobby Lobby.
02 December 2013
Meet the new Anabaptists; same as the old Anabaptists
Gay members of an anti-gay church are shocked, shocked that the church is seeking to suppress them.
I feel like a blog-writin' version of "let me Google that for you." Look, Circle of Hope traces its roots to Anabaptist Christians called the Brethren in Christ. Whether they're a subset of Mennonites, or Mennonites are a subset of the Brethren in Christ, or they're parallel groups, I'm not entirely sure. But the main idea here is that they're Anabaptist Protestants! This is the same place the Old-Order Amish come from. They're not going to dig gay people, no matter what the young, hipster-y Circle of Hope congregation says to get them to their meetings! And it took me about three clicks to affirm my suspicion that a modern group of Anabaptists opposes same-sex relationships (PDF), considering them as sinful against their deity's plan for adult relationships as adultery, divorce, and spousal abuse. Though, to be fair, since the Brethren in Christ are modern Anabaptists, they're OK with homosexual inclinations -- so long as they're not acted upon.
Now, there does exist a Brethren Mennonite Council for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual And Transgender Interests, which seeks "to cultivate an inclusive church and society and to care for the Mennonite and Brethren lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and allied community." The suppressed members of Circle of Hope's congregation should look into starting up a local group.
H/T Ryan Briggs at the Philadelphia City Paper.
I feel like a blog-writin' version of "let me Google that for you." Look, Circle of Hope traces its roots to Anabaptist Christians called the Brethren in Christ. Whether they're a subset of Mennonites, or Mennonites are a subset of the Brethren in Christ, or they're parallel groups, I'm not entirely sure. But the main idea here is that they're Anabaptist Protestants! This is the same place the Old-Order Amish come from. They're not going to dig gay people, no matter what the young, hipster-y Circle of Hope congregation says to get them to their meetings! And it took me about three clicks to affirm my suspicion that a modern group of Anabaptists opposes same-sex relationships (PDF), considering them as sinful against their deity's plan for adult relationships as adultery, divorce, and spousal abuse. Though, to be fair, since the Brethren in Christ are modern Anabaptists, they're OK with homosexual inclinations -- so long as they're not acted upon.
Now, there does exist a Brethren Mennonite Council for Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual And Transgender Interests, which seeks "to cultivate an inclusive church and society and to care for the Mennonite and Brethren lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, and allied community." The suppressed members of Circle of Hope's congregation should look into starting up a local group.
H/T Ryan Briggs at the Philadelphia City Paper.
27 August 2013
Don't smile for the camera, citizen
Got a driver's license in Ohio? Then your state Attorney General has added your face to a database where it can be checked against faces of criminal suspects. Announced this week, the A.G. has been using this system all summer before telling every driver in Ohio that they are presumed guilty of a crime before facial-recognition software determines that they aren't.
ACLU of Ohio is calling it a privacy problem. I don't think it is, because you don't have a reasonable expectation of privacy in your driver's license photo. You have to show it in many situations; and driving is a privilege, not a right. The problem is one of due process.
I mean, fine: test my driver's license photo against the photo of a crime victim (or the reconstruction of their face) or some unidentified person to try to put a name to a body or find someone. But don't take that photo and test it against enhanced surveillance photos of unidentified perpetrators of a crime! In the first case, the assumption is that I'm an ordinary suspicionless citizen who may be the victim of a crime or misadventure. In the second case, though, the assumption is I'm a suspected criminal.
First case: All drivers are beneficiaries of police protection.
Second case: All drivers are suspected criminals subject to police action against them.
Holy deprivation of due process, Batman!
Over half the states are using this kind of scheme. Not sure if your state is one of them? Ask yourself this: last time you got your driver's license photo taken, is it the rule that you're not allowed to smile? (Note about that link: the infographic indicates that Ohio doesn't have a facial-recognition system, though the article was posted only in June. How many other states do you figure provided incorrect or incomplete information?)
ACLU of Ohio is calling it a privacy problem. I don't think it is, because you don't have a reasonable expectation of privacy in your driver's license photo. You have to show it in many situations; and driving is a privilege, not a right. The problem is one of due process.
I mean, fine: test my driver's license photo against the photo of a crime victim (or the reconstruction of their face) or some unidentified person to try to put a name to a body or find someone. But don't take that photo and test it against enhanced surveillance photos of unidentified perpetrators of a crime! In the first case, the assumption is that I'm an ordinary suspicionless citizen who may be the victim of a crime or misadventure. In the second case, though, the assumption is I'm a suspected criminal.
First case: All drivers are beneficiaries of police protection.
Second case: All drivers are suspected criminals subject to police action against them.
Holy deprivation of due process, Batman!
Over half the states are using this kind of scheme. Not sure if your state is one of them? Ask yourself this: last time you got your driver's license photo taken, is it the rule that you're not allowed to smile? (Note about that link: the infographic indicates that Ohio doesn't have a facial-recognition system, though the article was posted only in June. How many other states do you figure provided incorrect or incomplete information?)
24 July 2013
The day after the funeral
Back to work after attending what I believe is my eighth funeral in as many years.
I think the ritual is very important, at least for most people, to help them mentally shut the door on the relationship they had with the deceased and get on with their lives. The ritual doesn't need to encompass the full suite of wake, viewing/visitation, religious ritual, trek to the cemetery, graveside ritual, and final reception. But I tell you what, I come away more emotionally satisfied and ready to face work the next day when I'm leaving the end of a full Catholic send-off than when I've attended a brief meeting in a funeral parlor.
Must be the incense. Or the obligatory references to prayers for the unborn, which will come as surely as will the Protestant "sinners in the hands of an angry God" warnings to choose the right kind of resurrection when it comes to the listeners' own turn to go to sleep and await the event.
Was much more involved in arrangements this time than I've ever been previously. Medical ventilators are violent things. Coffins, vaults, and related services are expensive. Embalming is bizarro. There should be a website called "remove-your-damn-ballcap-when-you-enter-the-funeral-home dot com." And everyone is unlikely to be truly prepared for the actual volume of legal paperwork afterward.
And so I've spent some time today getting over my trauma -- which can't possibly compare to that of the deceased's immediate family -- by reading up on end-of-life practices in North America and round the world.
Also reviewing my advanced health care directive.
I think the ritual is very important, at least for most people, to help them mentally shut the door on the relationship they had with the deceased and get on with their lives. The ritual doesn't need to encompass the full suite of wake, viewing/visitation, religious ritual, trek to the cemetery, graveside ritual, and final reception. But I tell you what, I come away more emotionally satisfied and ready to face work the next day when I'm leaving the end of a full Catholic send-off than when I've attended a brief meeting in a funeral parlor.
Must be the incense. Or the obligatory references to prayers for the unborn, which will come as surely as will the Protestant "sinners in the hands of an angry God" warnings to choose the right kind of resurrection when it comes to the listeners' own turn to go to sleep and await the event.
Was much more involved in arrangements this time than I've ever been previously. Medical ventilators are violent things. Coffins, vaults, and related services are expensive. Embalming is bizarro. There should be a website called "remove-your-damn-ballcap-when-you-enter-the-funeral-home dot com." And everyone is unlikely to be truly prepared for the actual volume of legal paperwork afterward.
And so I've spent some time today getting over my trauma -- which can't possibly compare to that of the deceased's immediate family -- by reading up on end-of-life practices in North America and round the world.
Also reviewing my advanced health care directive.
15 July 2013
Voter ID, the death of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, and the 19th Amendment
The Pennsylvania voter ID trial begins today. I still think voter ID laws are a 19th Amendment issue.
Who changes their names after marriages and divorces? Women.
Who has to run the paperwork gantlet to get a new driver license or passport, digging up marriage certificates, divorce decrees, and birth certificates or sending away to out-of-state agencies for proof that they're who they say they are, only to risk being turned down by a DMV functionary who orders them to transfer the title of their home into their maiden name (PDF)? Women.
Who are disproportionately represented in the Pennsylvania anti-voter ID case? Women (PDF).
And I'll go there. You think the prisoners fasting for Ramadan in Gitmo, or the 29,000 prisoners in California, are the first to go on hunger strikes for their cause? They're only the latest. Who was force-fed during their struggle for the right to vote? Women.
A hundred years ago, Emily Davison was about my age when she was killed attempting a theatrical gesture for women's suffrage. A 7-minute doc includes a film clip and calls her "a radicalized woman with nothing to lose" (4:10). Though she probably wasn't a suicide and never intended to be a martyr, she had a hero's funeral.
You can roll back the business end of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 and implement anti-voting measures right away, but it can't end well. The little old ladies with no driver licenses will die off. Those of us born before all the birth records were digitized or originated on the computer will get our acts together and get the right ID. And people my daughter's age, who were in the computer from the get-go, won't have a problem getting their voter ID. Requiring state-issued ID and then making it hard to obtain is not a sustainable strategy. And it won't be too long now before that daughter of mine is voting.
Since, after all, your grandfathers and great-grandfathers were so gracious to vote for the 19th Amendment.
Who changes their names after marriages and divorces? Women.
Who has to run the paperwork gantlet to get a new driver license or passport, digging up marriage certificates, divorce decrees, and birth certificates or sending away to out-of-state agencies for proof that they're who they say they are, only to risk being turned down by a DMV functionary who orders them to transfer the title of their home into their maiden name (PDF)? Women.
Who are disproportionately represented in the Pennsylvania anti-voter ID case? Women (PDF).
And I'll go there. You think the prisoners fasting for Ramadan in Gitmo, or the 29,000 prisoners in California, are the first to go on hunger strikes for their cause? They're only the latest. Who was force-fed during their struggle for the right to vote? Women.
A hundred years ago, Emily Davison was about my age when she was killed attempting a theatrical gesture for women's suffrage. A 7-minute doc includes a film clip and calls her "a radicalized woman with nothing to lose" (4:10). Though she probably wasn't a suicide and never intended to be a martyr, she had a hero's funeral.
You can roll back the business end of the Voting Rights Act of 1965 and implement anti-voting measures right away, but it can't end well. The little old ladies with no driver licenses will die off. Those of us born before all the birth records were digitized or originated on the computer will get our acts together and get the right ID. And people my daughter's age, who were in the computer from the get-go, won't have a problem getting their voter ID. Requiring state-issued ID and then making it hard to obtain is not a sustainable strategy. And it won't be too long now before that daughter of mine is voting.
Since, after all, your grandfathers and great-grandfathers were so gracious to vote for the 19th Amendment.
12 July 2013
Employers should embrace paying for health insurance, because abortions should be rare
Just as I don't understand why a health insurer itself would decide to cover pregnancy and birth costs (some $20,000 per event, and most women who do it once do it at least once more) but not pay for birth control (some $360 per year for pills, less for an IUD per year over its lifetime), I don't understand why an employer would be happy to pay for pregnancy and birth insurance, plus the real risk of high turnover among its female employees, but refuse to pay for birth control insurance.
I'm a small business owner. I've been one for years, and I spent a good part of the 1990s as a successful small business owner who hired employees. When I've had employees, I've paid for their health insurance. And I will in the future, if I ever get into the position where I can hire them again, even if the number of employees is below the Obamacare mandate threshold. Why? Because it's good business. It's cheap -- you have to do some research and some math, but it's not terribly expensive per employee. In the 1990s, I found a trade association that hooked us up to a group that tailored its plan to small businesses (even tiny ones, like mine) that wouldn't have been able to negotiate a good deal on their own. I bet there's a trade or professional association for every darn industry out there, and I bet to a one that they have affiliate health insurance programs. I know my local and state bar associations do. A business owner who doesn't do this research and math in their own industry just isn't doing the best job they can do as a business owner.
To be clear, I don't recall the numbers offhand, because it was over 15 years ago and the paperwork is long gone. And the numbers weren't negligible, and the 1990s was a very easy decade to make money in the industry I was in, and my employees were young, healthy people. But offering health insurance to them was worth every penny we spent on it. Combined with a reasonable sick and vacation day policy, the work environment allowed a sick employee to stay home, see a healthcare practitioner, and get back to work quickly. They didn't lose productivity, coming into work because they felt forced to though they were feeling lousy, getting everyone else in the office sick. And for the love of Christ, I never asked the women about their birth control. (Though I do know that if they were on the pill, they were covered, because they got the same coverage I did, and you know damn well my pills were paid for.) And you know why? Because one, it's none of my goddam business. And two, I didn't want "these fool feemale women" having unintended pregnancies and bringing drama and grief to the office, and needing time off.
And three, because there's that Clintony pro-choice line that abortion should be "safe, legal, and rare." Anti-choicers jump on that, with their favorite gotcha: "Why rare? If abortion is OK, why do you agree that it should be rare? You must actually think it's not OK, or else you wouldn't say it should be rare. Gotcha!" That "gotcha" is a logical fallacy. Do you see it? They beg the question as to Clinton's premise for why abortions should be rare. The reason isn't that pro-choicers think an embryo or fetus has the same right to life as the woman gestating it. The reason is that any abortion, even a very early or straightforward one, takes resources. It takes a woman away from her work or studies for multiple trips to the clinic or hospital (plus a trip to court if the patient is a minor in a state where she needs to get a judicial bypass around the parental notification law). It takes money, both in the cost of the procedure and travel costs to get it, plus lost wages from time off work. And it takes an emotional toll from the stigma, drama, and grief largely inflicted by the religious right.
Abortions should be rare because they cost women time, money, and work and educational opportunities. Abortions should be rare because they cost employers money. Oops, I think that makes me a capitalist! But hey, it's not me who wants abortions to be rare. It's just good business.
I'm a small business owner. I've been one for years, and I spent a good part of the 1990s as a successful small business owner who hired employees. When I've had employees, I've paid for their health insurance. And I will in the future, if I ever get into the position where I can hire them again, even if the number of employees is below the Obamacare mandate threshold. Why? Because it's good business. It's cheap -- you have to do some research and some math, but it's not terribly expensive per employee. In the 1990s, I found a trade association that hooked us up to a group that tailored its plan to small businesses (even tiny ones, like mine) that wouldn't have been able to negotiate a good deal on their own. I bet there's a trade or professional association for every darn industry out there, and I bet to a one that they have affiliate health insurance programs. I know my local and state bar associations do. A business owner who doesn't do this research and math in their own industry just isn't doing the best job they can do as a business owner.
To be clear, I don't recall the numbers offhand, because it was over 15 years ago and the paperwork is long gone. And the numbers weren't negligible, and the 1990s was a very easy decade to make money in the industry I was in, and my employees were young, healthy people. But offering health insurance to them was worth every penny we spent on it. Combined with a reasonable sick and vacation day policy, the work environment allowed a sick employee to stay home, see a healthcare practitioner, and get back to work quickly. They didn't lose productivity, coming into work because they felt forced to though they were feeling lousy, getting everyone else in the office sick. And for the love of Christ, I never asked the women about their birth control. (Though I do know that if they were on the pill, they were covered, because they got the same coverage I did, and you know damn well my pills were paid for.) And you know why? Because one, it's none of my goddam business. And two, I didn't want "these fool feemale women" having unintended pregnancies and bringing drama and grief to the office, and needing time off.
And three, because there's that Clintony pro-choice line that abortion should be "safe, legal, and rare." Anti-choicers jump on that, with their favorite gotcha: "Why rare? If abortion is OK, why do you agree that it should be rare? You must actually think it's not OK, or else you wouldn't say it should be rare. Gotcha!" That "gotcha" is a logical fallacy. Do you see it? They beg the question as to Clinton's premise for why abortions should be rare. The reason isn't that pro-choicers think an embryo or fetus has the same right to life as the woman gestating it. The reason is that any abortion, even a very early or straightforward one, takes resources. It takes a woman away from her work or studies for multiple trips to the clinic or hospital (plus a trip to court if the patient is a minor in a state where she needs to get a judicial bypass around the parental notification law). It takes money, both in the cost of the procedure and travel costs to get it, plus lost wages from time off work. And it takes an emotional toll from the stigma, drama, and grief largely inflicted by the religious right.
Abortions should be rare because they cost women time, money, and work and educational opportunities. Abortions should be rare because they cost employers money. Oops, I think that makes me a capitalist! But hey, it's not me who wants abortions to be rare. It's just good business.
11 July 2013
Proposed: the Indiana Church of Homo Matrimony
You know what the state of Indiana needs? A church the only doctrine of which is same-sex marriage in the great State of Indiana. It should be called the Indiana Church of Homo Matrimony, and its greatest -- because only -- sacrament would be same-sex marriage. Which is a misdemeanor for a pastor to solemnize in Indiana. And I dearly, dearly want to see the pastor of the Indiana Church of Homo Matrimony to be arrested and charged for performing their congregation's most holy act. The law in question, via ThinkProgress and AmericaBlog:
You know, the Founding Fathers foresaw the trouble that comes when the state gets involved in deciding religious questions. As they put it when they were debating the text of what became the First Amendment, it's all fun and games for the legislature to mandate bible instruction in public schools, until you find out that the bible to be taught isn't your bible. Wars have been fought and countless people have been executed for hundreds of years over theological questions from "Should women be allowed to preach?" to "Which of the dozen commandments over multiple chapters and books are the actual Ten Commandments?" And when the government lays out religious doctrine as law and public policy, everyone except for rich, connected men loses.
Which, of course, is the point. It's the real reason underlying invasive, liberty-destroying restrictions on abortions: keep women from controlling their own reproduction, and they'll have to juggle duties at home and work, which keeps them from focusing on work as hard as their co-workers with fewer perceived home-based responsibilities (read: dads, and child-free men), which keeps them from being in a better position to bargain for higher wages and more power in the marketplace and the political arena. Keep young women from terminating unwanted pregnancies, and they'll have exponentially more trouble to finish vocational training or a college degree, which keeps them from fully actualizing themselves and earning more money.
And note that however it's done, when women don't earn decent money, they don't pay much into Social Security, which hurts both Social Security in general but also, and more importantly, themselves in particular, when they've retired (ha-ha) and receive smaller payments than what they would have seen if they'd had the credentials to earn higher paychecks in the first place. Again, fully actualizing themselves. (Which is why Justice Ginsburg practically begged women's rights proponents to give up on due process and aim for equal protection -- the strategy that finally worked against DOMA -- to attack abortion restrictions: privacy isn't the issue, because restrictions on abortion prevent women from "enjoy[ing] equal citizenship stature" and deny them "autonomy to determine [their] life's course" (Gonzales v. Carhart, 550 U.S. 124, 172 (2007) (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (PDF)).)
But you know what is still available to a woman? Going to Indiana and starting up a church whose sole practice and faith is solemnizing same-sex marriages.
IC 31-11-11-7 Solemnization of marriage between persons prohibited from marrying Sec. 7. A person who knowingly solemnizes a marriage of individuals who are prohibited from marrying by IC 31-11-1 commits a Class B misdemeanor.A "Class B misdemeanor" in Indiana can set you back $1,000 and a half-year in jail. That's a lot of collection money going out the door, and a lot of Sundays with an empty pulpit.
You know, the Founding Fathers foresaw the trouble that comes when the state gets involved in deciding religious questions. As they put it when they were debating the text of what became the First Amendment, it's all fun and games for the legislature to mandate bible instruction in public schools, until you find out that the bible to be taught isn't your bible. Wars have been fought and countless people have been executed for hundreds of years over theological questions from "Should women be allowed to preach?" to "Which of the dozen commandments over multiple chapters and books are the actual Ten Commandments?" And when the government lays out religious doctrine as law and public policy, everyone except for rich, connected men loses.
Which, of course, is the point. It's the real reason underlying invasive, liberty-destroying restrictions on abortions: keep women from controlling their own reproduction, and they'll have to juggle duties at home and work, which keeps them from focusing on work as hard as their co-workers with fewer perceived home-based responsibilities (read: dads, and child-free men), which keeps them from being in a better position to bargain for higher wages and more power in the marketplace and the political arena. Keep young women from terminating unwanted pregnancies, and they'll have exponentially more trouble to finish vocational training or a college degree, which keeps them from fully actualizing themselves and earning more money.
And note that however it's done, when women don't earn decent money, they don't pay much into Social Security, which hurts both Social Security in general but also, and more importantly, themselves in particular, when they've retired (ha-ha) and receive smaller payments than what they would have seen if they'd had the credentials to earn higher paychecks in the first place. Again, fully actualizing themselves. (Which is why Justice Ginsburg practically begged women's rights proponents to give up on due process and aim for equal protection -- the strategy that finally worked against DOMA -- to attack abortion restrictions: privacy isn't the issue, because restrictions on abortion prevent women from "enjoy[ing] equal citizenship stature" and deny them "autonomy to determine [their] life's course" (Gonzales v. Carhart, 550 U.S. 124, 172 (2007) (Ginsburg, J., dissenting) (PDF)).)
But you know what is still available to a woman? Going to Indiana and starting up a church whose sole practice and faith is solemnizing same-sex marriages.
20 July 2012
18 July 2012
Hurricane season approaches and I'm not ready
Hurricane season officially starts at the beginning of June, but I don't tend to think of it as being a real problem here, so far north of the Carolinas, until we cool off a little in September. So while I feel as though I have a lot of time to spare, I've been taking some time today to look at my pantry cabinet and take stock of my emergency supplies.
And I'm low! What started as a little project to organize my pantry turned out to be a wake-up call that I don't have much at all beyond my minimum 2-week supply of nonperishable or ready-to-eat foods. That is to say, I have a good 2-week supply, but I'd be eating canned beans 3 meals per day toward end of those 2 weeks.
Off to the grocery store, but maybe not until this evening after the heatwave breaks. Among other things, I need to replace some single-serving, ready-to-eat rice packs, which I'll rotate out of storage and eat today and tomorrow since they're about at their best-by date. Single-serving, ready-to-eat, shelf-stable, fully cooked rice. We really do live in the future. I don't even want to know the carbon footprint of this stuff (though the rice is grown in the U.S., the final product is imported from Spain) but it's a brilliant addition to my emergency supplies.
Not that I truly, truly need a 2-week supply of instant or ready-to-eat food. In my section of the urban hellhole I can expect to be first in line for utilities to be restored after a storm. If they fail at all, that is. My water has never gone out; my electric goes out maybe once per year; and the only time my gas has ever gone out was when PGW shut it off deliberately for an infrastructure improvement project a few years ago.
That said, I think the derecho at the end of June put the fear of god into me. When much of West Virginia had no power for a few days, local officials and the Red Cross had to organize "mass feedings" (CNN). Evidently everyone had their power back 12 days later, but a lot of people were completely and totally unprepared for the situation. That's really uncool and I don't ever want to be in that position, unlikely as it would be for me in my location.
And I'm low! What started as a little project to organize my pantry turned out to be a wake-up call that I don't have much at all beyond my minimum 2-week supply of nonperishable or ready-to-eat foods. That is to say, I have a good 2-week supply, but I'd be eating canned beans 3 meals per day toward end of those 2 weeks.
Off to the grocery store, but maybe not until this evening after the heatwave breaks. Among other things, I need to replace some single-serving, ready-to-eat rice packs, which I'll rotate out of storage and eat today and tomorrow since they're about at their best-by date. Single-serving, ready-to-eat, shelf-stable, fully cooked rice. We really do live in the future. I don't even want to know the carbon footprint of this stuff (though the rice is grown in the U.S., the final product is imported from Spain) but it's a brilliant addition to my emergency supplies.
Not that I truly, truly need a 2-week supply of instant or ready-to-eat food. In my section of the urban hellhole I can expect to be first in line for utilities to be restored after a storm. If they fail at all, that is. My water has never gone out; my electric goes out maybe once per year; and the only time my gas has ever gone out was when PGW shut it off deliberately for an infrastructure improvement project a few years ago.
That said, I think the derecho at the end of June put the fear of god into me. When much of West Virginia had no power for a few days, local officials and the Red Cross had to organize "mass feedings" (CNN). Evidently everyone had their power back 12 days later, but a lot of people were completely and totally unprepared for the situation. That's really uncool and I don't ever want to be in that position, unlikely as it would be for me in my location.
Romney's tax returns are out there and have been for 4 years
Sometime in 2008, as part of John McCain's vetting process for a vice-presidential candidate, Mitt Romney "reportedly provided McCain's team with more than 20 years of tax returns, significantly more than the amount of information Romney has made public this time around" (CNN). McCain didn't pick Romney for veep, so maybe there's some causal there there. Or maybe the causal there there is simply that Romney doesn't look as good as Sarah Palin does in a red leather jacket.
But my point, and I do have one, is: Oh, lordy. Will someone please, please, please leak these old tax returns already? Aw, man. They are out there. It can't possibly be the case that every last copy was shredded or deleted off all the hard drives when McCain picked Palin over Romney. It would be so easy, just one little click on "send" -- and we don't need all the schedules and attachments, either, just the 2-page 1040's (and only the second pages of those, at that). And we'd get to see if they prove Noz's theory that Romney was living the tax-free high life for some of those years.
But my point, and I do have one, is: Oh, lordy. Will someone please, please, please leak these old tax returns already? Aw, man. They are out there. It can't possibly be the case that every last copy was shredded or deleted off all the hard drives when McCain picked Palin over Romney. It would be so easy, just one little click on "send" -- and we don't need all the schedules and attachments, either, just the 2-page 1040's (and only the second pages of those, at that). And we'd get to see if they prove Noz's theory that Romney was living the tax-free high life for some of those years.
17 July 2012
Talking with new law students in the new no-law-jobs economy
I spent a few hours the other day talking to some students who are about to embark on their first year of law school. This wasn't the first "welcome the students" event I've ever attended, but it was the first one where I was very upfront about my employment situation. The question comes up all the time from these enthusiastic, bright-eyed young people, who see the next 3 years as just the merest obstacle between them and a personally fulfilling career pursuing justice for the oppressed or making big bucks in a prominent firm: "So, Glomarization, what kind of law do you practice?"
This time my answer was, plainly, "I'm underemployed in my solo practice doing [practice area] for [type of client], and I'm actively looking for a law firm job or employment in a different sector altogether. I get an interview about every other month, but mostly I'm not working as a lawyer, though I have a few volunteer gigs doing [REDACTED] that keep me busy."
One student gamely continued the conversation, talking about their interest in non-patent intellectual property (where there are absolutely no jobs outside of the non-hiring large law firms). I pointed out the jaw-droppingly low hiring rate for 2011 grads: only about 50% have full-time, permanent jobs where a J.D. is required, and some 15% have no job at all. That leaves about 35% who are working part-time, in temporary jobs (not necessarily clerkships, either), or in jobs where they don't need a piece of paper that cost $150,000 plus 3 years of unemployment. I said that I'm self-employed, but after a decade as a small business owner, I don't like being an entrepreneur. I went to law school so that I'd have a job at the other end of it. And not in an entitlement kind of way, but in an "I did this to better my life and I jumped through all your hoops, and now I find that there are no lawyering jobs, and my degree makes me less employable as a non-lawyer once people see the J.D. on my resume, what the fuck gives?" kind of way.
The student's response to this was something along the lines of, well, finding a job, it's all a matter of personality, really.
I can't talk to these people. They're operating from some different worldview, a completely different paradigm than I'm operating from. It's like when talking with a friend of mine from my undergraduate days who is an actual, real-life young-Earth creationist. Different paradigm. We cannot have a conversation when one of us sincerely, absolutely believes that the planet and the universe are literally younger than 10,000 years old. Our basic understandings of reality are irreconcilable, and it's the same between me and this shiny new law student I was speaking with. See, there's a 90% chance that the student will end up in the bottom 90% of their class -- but they will not allow that concept into their reality. Or if they will, they're assured that they'll beat that 50% employment figure anyway and that it's just a matter of personality as to whether they land a real lawyering job out of law school.
There's absolutely nothing I can say to this student. But I do promise that I won't say, "I told you so" to them 3 years from now, even though their comment was, at bottom, not very nice at all.
This time my answer was, plainly, "I'm underemployed in my solo practice doing [practice area] for [type of client], and I'm actively looking for a law firm job or employment in a different sector altogether. I get an interview about every other month, but mostly I'm not working as a lawyer, though I have a few volunteer gigs doing [REDACTED] that keep me busy."
One student gamely continued the conversation, talking about their interest in non-patent intellectual property (where there are absolutely no jobs outside of the non-hiring large law firms). I pointed out the jaw-droppingly low hiring rate for 2011 grads: only about 50% have full-time, permanent jobs where a J.D. is required, and some 15% have no job at all. That leaves about 35% who are working part-time, in temporary jobs (not necessarily clerkships, either), or in jobs where they don't need a piece of paper that cost $150,000 plus 3 years of unemployment. I said that I'm self-employed, but after a decade as a small business owner, I don't like being an entrepreneur. I went to law school so that I'd have a job at the other end of it. And not in an entitlement kind of way, but in an "I did this to better my life and I jumped through all your hoops, and now I find that there are no lawyering jobs, and my degree makes me less employable as a non-lawyer once people see the J.D. on my resume, what the fuck gives?" kind of way.
The student's response to this was something along the lines of, well, finding a job, it's all a matter of personality, really.
I can't talk to these people. They're operating from some different worldview, a completely different paradigm than I'm operating from. It's like when talking with a friend of mine from my undergraduate days who is an actual, real-life young-Earth creationist. Different paradigm. We cannot have a conversation when one of us sincerely, absolutely believes that the planet and the universe are literally younger than 10,000 years old. Our basic understandings of reality are irreconcilable, and it's the same between me and this shiny new law student I was speaking with. See, there's a 90% chance that the student will end up in the bottom 90% of their class -- but they will not allow that concept into their reality. Or if they will, they're assured that they'll beat that 50% employment figure anyway and that it's just a matter of personality as to whether they land a real lawyering job out of law school.
There's absolutely nothing I can say to this student. But I do promise that I won't say, "I told you so" to them 3 years from now, even though their comment was, at bottom, not very nice at all.
Penn State-style groupthink needs its own term
Are you familiar with the phrase "going to Abilene"? It's an aspect of the concept of groupthink. Specifically, it's a paradox where someone in a group suggests a course of action; everyone agrees to follow it though individually nobody actually wants to; the group takes the course of action anyway; and in the end everyone is disappointed, upset, uncomfortable, saddened, or even angered that the course of action was taken. The practical results include opportunity costs and wasted time, money, and other resources, not to mention legal risks.
Note that this is not a problem of a charismatic leader persuading people to dangerous, illegal, or unspeakable acts. It's a phenomenon that occurs when no one wants to rock the boat or go against the grain -- but everyone fails to check the group's assumptions and speak up for themselves honestly.
This is similar, though not exactly the same as, the kind of groupthink that was happening at Penn State, which the Freeh report discusses: a "cocoon" where decisions were made not based on right or wrong, but based on the "Penn State way." Penn State adds a wrinkle, though. There's no charismatic leader, just an overly powerful individual in the organization that the institution's leadership fears to piss off and defers to, in service of a larger-than-life personality and a decades-long tradition (and billions of dollars in revenue).
Other schools, from the tiniest colleges to Penn State's peers in the category of oversized land-grant universities, must have dynamics like this going on. Since "going to Abilene" isn't exactly apt, I humbly suggest a new phrase for dealing with university sports-program groupthink: Going to Happy Valley.
Note that this is not a problem of a charismatic leader persuading people to dangerous, illegal, or unspeakable acts. It's a phenomenon that occurs when no one wants to rock the boat or go against the grain -- but everyone fails to check the group's assumptions and speak up for themselves honestly.
This is similar, though not exactly the same as, the kind of groupthink that was happening at Penn State, which the Freeh report discusses: a "cocoon" where decisions were made not based on right or wrong, but based on the "Penn State way." Penn State adds a wrinkle, though. There's no charismatic leader, just an overly powerful individual in the organization that the institution's leadership fears to piss off and defers to, in service of a larger-than-life personality and a decades-long tradition (and billions of dollars in revenue).
Other schools, from the tiniest colleges to Penn State's peers in the category of oversized land-grant universities, must have dynamics like this going on. Since "going to Abilene" isn't exactly apt, I humbly suggest a new phrase for dealing with university sports-program groupthink: Going to Happy Valley.
Throw Joe Paterno under the bus
So the Paterno family is rejecting the Freeh Report, a document the production of which was headed by a former director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation, and which involved combing over literally millions of communications and hundreds of personal interviews to determine who knew what and when they knew it. Instead, the Paterno family, like O.J. Simpson, has vowed to launch their own investigation to find the real harborer of child rapists at Penn State.
I humbly suggest that the Paterno family needs to shut up and enjoy the proceeds of JoePa's ill-gotten estate. Or, even better, they should throw dear old dad under the bus (suggest: "We're horrified that Joe -- we won't even call him our father any more, but 'Mr. Paterno' -- allowed Jerry Sandusky to rape those children. We're shocked and saddened at the Freeh report and have nothing of substance to add to its almost certainly true and correct findings") and donate the Penn State contract settlement money to a charity that addresses child sexual abuse (suggest: "We've calculated that about $6 million in cash of Mr. Paterno's estate derives directly from his work at Penn State, and we are presenting a check today in that amount to RAINN, on the express condition that they do not name any funds, buildings, or legislative initiatives after Mr. Paterno. P.S. We are never speaking to the media again").
I mean, you are allowed to throw a family member under the bus, even your dad. When your dad protects, allows, and even enables child rape for years, you are allowed to throw him under the bus. You don't even have to wait until he dies.
I humbly suggest that the Paterno family needs to shut up and enjoy the proceeds of JoePa's ill-gotten estate. Or, even better, they should throw dear old dad under the bus (suggest: "We're horrified that Joe -- we won't even call him our father any more, but 'Mr. Paterno' -- allowed Jerry Sandusky to rape those children. We're shocked and saddened at the Freeh report and have nothing of substance to add to its almost certainly true and correct findings") and donate the Penn State contract settlement money to a charity that addresses child sexual abuse (suggest: "We've calculated that about $6 million in cash of Mr. Paterno's estate derives directly from his work at Penn State, and we are presenting a check today in that amount to RAINN, on the express condition that they do not name any funds, buildings, or legislative initiatives after Mr. Paterno. P.S. We are never speaking to the media again").
I mean, you are allowed to throw a family member under the bus, even your dad. When your dad protects, allows, and even enables child rape for years, you are allowed to throw him under the bus. You don't even have to wait until he dies.
Scaling up: Allentown School District versus Penn State
The Allentown (Penna.) School District has settled a lawsuit by agreeing to pay $825,000 to 4 plaintiffs who alleged that a 12-year-old boy sexually assaulted them at school, by getting them alone in bathrooms and then attacking them. The lawsuit asserts that the school's response to complaints about the boy, who leaders at the school knew had a troubled history, was "wholly inadequate" (WPVI-TV).
How much does that kind of settlement translate to the Penn State situation, where a predator with a known troubled history assaulted victims in bathrooms (Harrisburg Patriot-News)? How should it scale? Keep in mind that Jerry Sandusky was some 40 years older than his victims; his victims numbered 10 (at a minimum; that was the number in the criminal case); and Sandusky's rapes took place over years, if not decades, while the Allentown assaults spanned only a few months (PDF, p. 2).
The Allentown School District had an operating budget surplus of some $10 million in FY 2010-11 (PDF, see the school district's Finance Reports page); and its FY 2011-12 operating budget contemplates revenues of nearly $260 million (PDF). As I've mentioned before, Penn State has an endowment of over $1.5 billion (PDF); and its proposed FY 2012-13 operating budget contemplates general funds income of nearly $2 billion (PDF, see Schedules I and III).
How much should Penn State pay Sandusky's victims? How should Penn State scale up the Allentown School District's $825,000 for 4 victims to Sandusky's 10? Should it matter that there's a distinguishing factor here, that is, that the perpetrator in Allentown was another minor student, whereas Sandusky was an adult employee, or at least a colleague? Because that said, both institutions were mandatory reporters, whether literally or through the Clery Act, and both failed miserably in their legal duties -- not to mention their moral duties.
How much does that kind of settlement translate to the Penn State situation, where a predator with a known troubled history assaulted victims in bathrooms (Harrisburg Patriot-News)? How should it scale? Keep in mind that Jerry Sandusky was some 40 years older than his victims; his victims numbered 10 (at a minimum; that was the number in the criminal case); and Sandusky's rapes took place over years, if not decades, while the Allentown assaults spanned only a few months (PDF, p. 2).
The Allentown School District had an operating budget surplus of some $10 million in FY 2010-11 (PDF, see the school district's Finance Reports page); and its FY 2011-12 operating budget contemplates revenues of nearly $260 million (PDF). As I've mentioned before, Penn State has an endowment of over $1.5 billion (PDF); and its proposed FY 2012-13 operating budget contemplates general funds income of nearly $2 billion (PDF, see Schedules I and III).
How much should Penn State pay Sandusky's victims? How should Penn State scale up the Allentown School District's $825,000 for 4 victims to Sandusky's 10? Should it matter that there's a distinguishing factor here, that is, that the perpetrator in Allentown was another minor student, whereas Sandusky was an adult employee, or at least a colleague? Because that said, both institutions were mandatory reporters, whether literally or through the Clery Act, and both failed miserably in their legal duties -- not to mention their moral duties.
10 July 2012
An apologia for avoiding an "inhumane result" in Sandusky's case
Philly.com op-ed by Drexel Law prof Daniel Filler fails to use the term "child rape" to discuss what Jerry Sandusky did and what Joe Paterno, Graham Spanier, Gary Schultz, Tim Curley, and others (including the campus rent-a-cops) at Penn State failed to report to the police and the federal government:
An "inhumane result," as even the Georgia Supreme Court figured out, was Marcus Dixon's, where prosecutors won a conviction and a 10-year sentence on an 18-year-old charged with felony aggravated child molestation, rather than misdemeanor statutory rape, for having sex with his 15-year-old girlfriend, and guess which one of the couple was white and which was African-American. Here, McQueary witnessed Sandusky raping a child in the shower in 2002, when Sandusky was 57 and his victim about 10. Sandusky remained unindicted for another 9 years and unconvicted until a year after that. Which is the "inhumane result" now?
Former president of Pennsylvania State University Graham "don't want to be inhumane, you understand" Spanier in 2003, 2 years after he learned that Jerry Sandusky was a child rapist but did not report the rape to police.
I've got a lot of friends and colleagues, and, you know, I'm not the president of a university with a very important football team, but I have to think that if I learned that a friend or colleague of mine were raping children, I'd report their ass to the police. But, hey, maybe that's a particular character trait of mine that explains why I've never been able to claw my way to the top of a Big 10 school with an endowment of over $1.5 billion (PDF). I've never been a law school professor, either.
But there is another lesson to be learned from this horrible story, and it's time we acknowledged it. Penn State's administrators might have buried the charges against Sandusky partly because our national anxiety about sexual abuse has resulted in a lattice of laws so toxic that people are afraid to report it. Although Penn State officials may have wanted Sandusky to stop, they also may have feared the overwhelming consequences of reporting the crime.Oh, wah, wah, wah! Mike McQueary saw Sandusky raping a boy in the shower, and his bosses "feared the consequences"?
There's no doubt that Penn State administrators were trying to protect the university and its football program. But they were also trying to protect Sandusky and themselves from the tsunami that would follow. I take Spanier at his alleged word that he feared an inhumane result. He isn't alone: Some recent research suggests that some prosecutors shape their charging and plea-bargaining decisions to moderate the effects of current laws.Here's where, if I were worse at my rhetoric, I'd say that I wish prosecutors seeking to moderate the effects of current laws would get child-raped themselves. But I don't wish that, really I don't. I don't even wish child rape on law school professors. What I'll do instead is point out that a law school professor would have ridiculed me for not distinguishing between a case where the result is "inhumane" and child rapist Jerry Sandusky's case.
An "inhumane result," as even the Georgia Supreme Court figured out, was Marcus Dixon's, where prosecutors won a conviction and a 10-year sentence on an 18-year-old charged with felony aggravated child molestation, rather than misdemeanor statutory rape, for having sex with his 15-year-old girlfriend, and guess which one of the couple was white and which was African-American. Here, McQueary witnessed Sandusky raping a child in the shower in 2002, when Sandusky was 57 and his victim about 10. Sandusky remained unindicted for another 9 years and unconvicted until a year after that. Which is the "inhumane result" now?
Former president of Pennsylvania State University Graham "don't want to be inhumane, you understand" Spanier in 2003, 2 years after he learned that Jerry Sandusky was a child rapist but did not report the rape to police.
I've got a lot of friends and colleagues, and, you know, I'm not the president of a university with a very important football team, but I have to think that if I learned that a friend or colleague of mine were raping children, I'd report their ass to the police. But, hey, maybe that's a particular character trait of mine that explains why I've never been able to claw my way to the top of a Big 10 school with an endowment of over $1.5 billion (PDF). I've never been a law school professor, either.
09 July 2012
Media starting to notice Pennsylvania's little mass disenfranchisement problem
Today's Daily News offers up an unsigned editorial warning that over three quarters of a million registered, otherwise eligible voters will be disenfranchised in November if the courts decline to block the Commonwealth's voter ID law. The editorial goes on to assert that this was almost undoubtedly the GOP's plan from the get-go:
According to figures released a few hours before the July 4 holiday, 758,939 registered Pennsylvania voters don't have a Pennsylvania driver's license or alternative PennDOT identification. That's 9.2 percent of Pennsylvania's 8.2 million voters. In urban Philadelphia, a full 18 percent of registered voters -- 186,830 -- do not have PennDOT-issued ID.
[ ... ] Compare that to the claim by Secretary of the Commonwealth Carol Aichele, repeated without documentation for months before and after the passage of the law, that just 1 percent of Pennsylvania voters (a not-insignificant 82,000 citizens) do not already have acceptable ID.
[ ... ] Aichele and [Governor Tom] Corbett also have long ignored the fact that there is no hard, or even soft, evidence of a need for a law preventing voter impersonation in this state or others. In fact, a group of Republican lawyers could document only 400 voter-fraud cases in the entire country over a decade, less than one case per state per year.
[ ... ] A couple weeks ago, [Pennsylvania House majority leader Mike] Turzai [R-PA 28] let the truth slip out. In bragging about the law to the state Republican committee, he crowed that it "is going to allow . . . [Mitt] Romney to win the state of Pennsylvania."I'm blogging infrequently and I'm a voice in the wilderness, but I told you so. And when I was telling you so, why wasn't the Daily News demanding proof from Aichele? Her statements were like a live-action Wikipedia [citation needed]. November is going to be horrible.
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