column on Penn State July 13

I was accepted to Penn State’s main campus when I was considering college. I always admired the aura of Penn State running a clean, honorable program in college football under the estimable care of Coach Paterno. When the horror of the child abuse scandal came to light, I was sickened by the specter of all those boys abused. Another part of me had real sadness at the realization that the Penn State program had feet of clay. I turned away from the thought that maybe the program was in reality no better than others. Sally Jenkins, the Washington Post writer, wonders if we grant moral stature to coaches on the basis of their record as winners. I started using Facebook a while ago, and a number of people on my postings are proud graduates of that fine school. All of them were careful to blast Coach Sandusky but also to protect the school and especially Coach Paterno. They tended to end their postings with the phrase, we are Penn State. I have not seen as many postings from Penn State alumni this time. Other folks wanted to fire all of the school administration without much evidence other than their hurt and anger. Others wanted and now clamor for the entire football program to be shut down. It is difficult for me to see this as a condign punishment. Following the quick response of talk radio, fire them all and shut it down comes all too quickly from our lips. Blind loyalty or blind fury are not resources when considering policy and the aftermath of a wound. Former FBI Director Freeh’s report points toward a pattern of discussions that sought to protect the reputation of the school, its vaunted football program, and about “humane” treatment toward Coach Sandusky. I agree with the Paterno family that the document seems to make assertions and inferences with insufficient information. Whenever I see a culture blamed, without citing actions, as the report does toward the trustees, I grow skeptical. It does seem that some in the administration had knowledge of trouble as early as 1998. In seminary, we were assigned Niebuhr’s book on “Immoral Society.” His argument was that human collectivities were capable of grievous acts of social sin in ways beyond the conception and capacity of individual sinners. I am leery of the arrogation of being judge and jury in these matters. We seem so willing to try to balance the moral books of the degree good deeds and intentions may balance willful negligence and a cover-up. The mechanism of fight or flight occurs in organizations too. Denial is the flight from information, especially information that we do not want to face, or can’t bear to face. Information does not flow up the administrative hierarchy easily. Imagine it as a series of valves that open and close the flow of information. It appears that organizations are not only the occasion for heinous evil, as individual responsibility gets concealed. Organizations seek to cover-up to protect members within the organization and to protect the reputation of what is in the end a mere mental construct, the organization itself. The four listed administrators seemed more concerned about protecting the program while leaving children unprotected. The sportswriter Frank Deford suggests that the desire to keep player eligible for games was transferred to Coach Sandusky. Building custodians saw Sandusky violate a boy, but they kept silent. They were fearful for their jobs. We don’t know if their fear was justified, but the university had already protected Sandusky by the time they were witness to a crime. Gen. 3 has Adam and Eve trying to hide after they broke a command. Soon in church we will read of David’s horrific ploys to cover up his adultery with Bathsheba. Crimes and cover-ups are twins.