Shifting the Goalposts
It will surprise no one who’s followed the case that the faction impervious to new facts is oriented around Houston Baker. In late March, Baker penned an inflammatory open letter that seemed to demand the immediate expulsion of all the lacrosse players (Ralph Luker has disagreed on this point); Duke provost Peter Lange deemed Baker’s remarks as based on prejudice. Tuesday’s Durham Herald-Sun revealed that 15 professors of African-American Studies have rallied to Baker’s defense. The group, which includes such prominent names as Columbia’s Robin Kelley, Northwestern’s Dwight McBride, and Penn’s Thadious Davis, sent a missive accusing Lange of assuming “a lofty and condescending position of White authority over the insufficiencies of minority reason, thereby exemplifying one of the problems at Duke.”
Having asserted as fact something for which absolutely no evidence exists, the signatories applied similar reasoning to the lacrosse case. They deemed their critique relevant “whatever the outcome of the criminal investigation of the rape of a Black woman college student by members of Duke’s lacrosse team.” In the words of one signatory, the letter writers were"too far away to make any judgment about who did what to whom”—except, of course, to say unequivocally that a “rape of a Black woman college student” occurred.
The African-American Studies professors proceeded from these two “facts”—that a “Black woman college student” was raped; and that Duke has a problem of the “condescending position of White authority over the insufficiencies of minority reason”—to criticize Duke for “concealing its contributions to a social order defined by inequities and racial preferences.” (It’s worth remembering that Kelley, et. al., were speaking about a university whose former philosophy chairman jokingly explained away the faculty’s overwhelming ideological imbalance by noting, “If, as John Stuart Mill said, stupid people are generally conservative, then there are lots of conservatives we will never hire.”) Duke, they argue, needs to recognize “that the academics and departments that work assiduously to impart the best ethical and intellectual wisdom of their disciplines, which are always race, class, and gender inflected, are the most marginalized and under-appreciated among high administrative personnel and traditional disciplines across all academic domains.” [emphasis added] Having screened out dissenters from the academy’s prevailing race/class/gender orthodoxy, Kelley, et. al. recommended that Duke coordinate “major universities and colleges in a campaign of active, enlightened strategies to reduce the huge structural, material and social inequities in our society.” That blatantly politicizing universities could threaten their fundamental mission to educate their students? Not a problem. That the Coleman Committee found no evidence of racist or sexist behavior by members of the lacrosse team; or that anyone who spends 30 minutes reading through the transcript of the photo ID session or the key prosecution witness statements can recognize that this case suffers from massive evidentiary and procedural flaws? Irrelevant.
To put it mildly, the Kelley, et. al., letter isn’t a high point in the history of African-American Studies. But at least the signatories only have the lacrosse players committing one rape. Houston Baker is now suggesting that they could have committed multiple rapes. In a series of e-mails, including at least one to a reader of this blog, sent out before his departure from Duke for Vanderbilt, Baker asserted that “46 white guys on the Lacrosse Team at Duke were very bad actors in the aggregate and may well have raped more than one woman.” His evidence for this claim? “The consumer entitlement of rich . . . students at Duke,” which includes “more than a fair share of license for rape, marauding, violence against women, etc.” My office-mate, Margaret King, has often said that many in the academy seem to be intellectually frozen in time, circa 1968. Baker proves the point: “White athletes (46 of them) at Duke; concentrate on that and figure that in 1968 at Duke it was whites who terrorized formerly forbidden black students.” That in 1968 some whites did terrorize black students in no way justifies Baker’s leveling unsubstantiated accusations against white students at Duke in 2006.
Most of Baker’s former colleagues have taken a craftier approach. Despite the new evidence, they have maintained their condemnation of the lacrosse players’ character. But to do so, they have reinvented themselves as temperance activists. That this shift has occurred without any acknowledgement of shortcomings in their earlier critiques casts doubt upon the sincerity of their newfound prohibitionist sentiments.
A few people—Ralph Luker is the best example—have expressed a strong concern over the alcohol issue from the start, arguing that a culture where alcohol is prominent conflicts with their vision of Duke. But for the Duke administration and activist faculty, the interest in temperance has increased in inverse proportion to the decline of the perceived strength of Mike Nifong’s case and the credibility of claims that the players were sexists or racists. In short, rather than admit that their initial attacks on the lacrosse players’ character contributed to what David Brooks correctly has termed a “witch hunt,” the Duke administration and the players’ faculty critics have acted as if their negative judgments always revolved around the alcohol issue—despite clear evidence to the contrary.
Take, for example, the Group of 88. Its so-called “listening” statement, issued in early April, lamented a “social disaster” that had befallen Duke. The statement described the lacrosse players’ actions as part of a broader pattern of racism at Duke, and thanked protesters who had branded the players as rapists. But while race and rape were on the minds of the Group of 88, alcohol was not. Nowhere did the signatories assert that excessive alcohol consumption formed part of Duke’s “social disaster”: the statement contained not even a single mention about alcohol-induced behavior among Duke undergraduates.
But times change, and so, apparently, do arguments. Compare, for instance, two columns published by William Chafe, the most academically distinguished of the Group of 88. In a March 31 article in the Duke Chronicle, Chafe argued:
The events that occurred on Buchanan Boulevard two weeks ago are part of a deep and troubling history, [in which] . . . sex and race were both instruments of domination. White men of means could access and exercise power. Through most of our history, African Americans and women could not—and those who tried to act otherwise were perceived as"uppity," and slapped down. Worst of all, sex was an instrument by which racial power was manifested and perpetuated. Why are most African Americans of a lighter hue than Africans from Nigeria? Because at some point in the past, or present, white males have"had their way" with black women . . . and then, in a perverse form of projection, created the specter of black men seeking to rape white women. That is why most lynchings of black men in the late 19th and early 20th century were justified by accusing black men of lusting after white women—even though there was little evidence that such attacks ever took place. So sex and race have always interacted in a vicious chemistry of power, privilege, and control. Emmett Till was brutalized and lynched in Mississippi in 1954 for allegedly speaking with too easy familiarity to a white woman storekeeper . . . What has all this to do with America today, and with Duke? Among other things, it helps to put into context what occurred in Durham two weeks ago. The mixture of race and sex that transpired on Buchanan Boulevard is not new.
Chafe’s early analysis has failed to stand the test of time. Indeed, while some (Nicholas Kristof comes to mind) continue to place events at Duke in the “context” of such past civil rights travesties as the Scottsboro Boys case, they are doing so because of the unethical behavior of state, not of the defendants. And it’s turned out that even the two items specifically related to the case about which Chafe claimed “there is no question” actually rely on either the testimony of the second dancer, who after a recent interview with NPR has now offered three mutually exclusive versions of events; or statements incorrectly attributed to the second dancer by an anti-lacrosse local activist, Victoria Peterson.
Yet while Chafe’s March 31 piece made not a single mention of alcohol, his May 3 article in the Chronicle of Higher Education, which was as hostile to the lacrosse players as its March 31 predecessor, detected the previously-unmentioned alcohol issue as a major problem for the Duke campus. The May 3 column, in fact, contained no less than seven separate mentions of alcohol or campus drinking. This newfound temperance spirit was accompanied by a decline in claims that 19th or 20th century lynchings provided the best “context” to understand the lacrosse players’ behavior. Chafe’s piece in the Chronicle contained no high-minded comparisons between the accuser’s plight and that of Emmitt Till, or, indeed, any mention at all of his previously preferred “context” of lynching.
To date, neither Chafe nor anyone else in the Group of 88 has explained why, though neither the group’s initial statement nor Chafe’s early column did not even once mention alcohol, these heirs of the 1960s and 1970s free-spirited academic left have suddenly felt the urge to stage a revival of the Durham branch of the WCTU—and to do so, coincidentally, just as evidence that their earlier insinuations of rape, racism, and sexism began to vanish. Surely this newfound concern with temperance couldn’t represent a hypocritical attempt to pin something on the lacrosse players, now that the factual premises of the “listening” statement and other early remarks by group members appear unsustainable?
In the press, the “listening” faculty have gained warm support from Durham Herald-Sun columnist John McCann, another convert to the evils of Demon Rum. By participating in a “drunken orgy” over spring break, McCann asserted (in a June 1 column that is no longer available on the Herald-Sun’s website), “the lacrosse boys brought [the prosecution] on themselves—even if the accuser's lying.” I’d invite McCann to peruse the 48,593 photos that appear on webshots.com by typing in “spring break drinking.” Is he seriously claiming that if a politically ambitious, ethically dubious prosecutor like Mike Nifong charged any of the people in these 48,593 photos with rape, they would have “brought it on themselves—even if the accuser's lying”?
Even more bizarrely, McCann targeted Reade Seligmann, the one defendant who has produced an airtight alibi (a video of himself someplace else while the crime allegedly was occurring). He noted that while Seligmann’s “mama and daddy” can keep him “out of jail on a $400,000 bond,” Seligmann won’t be able to attend classes until Nifong’s charges are dismissed or a trial occurs. But this, McCann sermonized, “is the kind of stuff that happens when you don't keep your nose clean.”
Really? We know that Seligmann did two things: he attended a spring break party that he played no role in organizing; and he drank some beer. And unless the Wachovia ATM video and a plethora of other evidence is manufactured, that’s all he did. He had no disciplinary record. His academic record was positive. Thousands of people—ranging from his former headmaster to casual acquaintances—have praised his personal character. Does McCann really believe that, by attending a party and drinking beer, Seligmann brought upon himself a suspension from school, death threats, being listed alongside Hitler by one MSNBC commentator, and having his photo branded on the cover of Newsweek under the headline “sex, lies, and Duke”?
Perhaps McCann is aiming to moonlight for the Duke PR office, where his ideas would seem right at home. As with the Group of 88, the administration of President Richard Brodhead has engaged in increasingly creative revisionist history. Brodhead’s first major statement on the case came in an open letter dated April 5. This document, which totaled 2401 words, contained a grand total of three sentences devoted to alcohol or campus drinking. And two of those passages were related not to the drinking issue per se but to the “attitudes” associated with groups who drank a lot. The focus of Brodhead’s remarks? Rape, racism, and sexism, with the lacrosse players the targeted group.
Rape is the substitution of raw power for love, brutality for tenderness, and dehumanization for intimacy. It is also the crudest assertion of inequality, a way to show that the strong are superior to the weak and can rightfully use them as the objects of their pleasure. When reports of racial abuse are added to the mix, the evil is compounded, reviving memories of the systematic racial oppression we had hoped to have left behind us . . . The episode has brought to glaring visibility . . . concerns of women about sexual coercion and assault, . . . concerns about the culture of certain student groups that regularly abuse alcohol and the attitudes these groups promote, [and] . . . concerns about the survival of the legacy of racism, the most hateful feature American history has produced. Compounding and intensifying these issues of race and gender, they include concerns about the deep structures of inequality in our society—inequalities of wealth, privilege, and opportunity (including educational opportunity), and the attitudes of superiority those inequalities breed . . . The objection of our East Campus neighbors was a reaction to an attitude of arrogant inconsiderateness that reached its peak in the alleged event but that had long preceded it [How can anything “reach its peak” in an “alleged event”?] . . . The huge majority of Duke students are well-behaved and good-hearted, and many work hard for the larger social good . . . [the university will] suggest improvements in the ways Duke educates students in the values of personal responsibility, consideration for others, and mutual respect in the face of difference and disagreement. The goal of this [campus culture] initiative is not to tell students ‘what to think’ in some simplistic or doctrinaire way [Don’t bet on it.]. Nevertheless, this is our chance to take the ethical dimension of education much more seriously than heretofore.
So, to summarize: in his April 5 statement, Brodhead never once expressed doubt that a rape occurred, and offered several lines (“rape is the substitution of raw power . . .”) that seemed to accept one of Nifong’s central (and, as it increasingly appears, inaccurate) premises—that a rape actually happened. “Racial abuse,” he admitted, was confined to “reports”—but he then recommended a slew of campus initiatives based on the assumption that racial abuse had in fact occurred. The “alleged event” showed that Duke hadn’t been serious enough about either the “ethical dimension of education” or addressing the “inequalities of wealth, privilege, and opportunity (including educational opportunity), and the attitudes of superiority those inequalities breed.” And apparently the lacrosse players, unlike the “huge majority” of Duke students, weren’t “good-hearted.”
Exactly two months later, on June 5, Brodhead released his next major statement on the case. By this point, of course, no one outside of Nifong’s office or the Kelley/Baker orbit dared assert, as fact, that a rape occurred. Nor, in light of the Coleman Committee’s findings, could anyone responsibly claim that the lacrosse players were racists or sexists. Yet, as I’ve noted before, the 2342 words of the June 5 letter sustained the administration’s harshly negative style. But a new sin justified the condemnatory tone—consumption of alcohol. Brodhead fretted about:
questions of student conduct that range far beyond the March 13 party and that are sources of concern whether the legal charges are upheld or not, [including] behavior that is thoughtless of others, among them our off-campus neighbors . . . and the abuse of alcohol. In the wake of events of this spring, we have recognized the need to clarify the standards of behavior that will be expected of all Duke students. We also need to clarify our expectations for students in off-campus settings . . . If and when Duke resumes the playing of men’s lacrosse, we cannot return to the status quo as of March 12. Though it did not confirm the worst allegations against this team, the Coleman Committee documented a history of irresponsible conduct [which related solely to alcohol; all other mention of the players’ conduct in the report was unequivocally positive] that this university cannot allow to continue . . . Whether or not the felony charges are upheld against the three indicted students, the fact is that members of the team engaged in irresponsible and dishonorable behavior on the evening of March 13, and those who were involved bear responsibility for their actions.
Auditioning for the role of a 21st century Frances Willard, Brodhead pushed through a new “team standard” that prohibited consumption of underage alcohol or alcohol-involved parties at which underage students were present. He added a five-pronged “mission statement” to which all players had to pledge, with high-minded clauses unrelated to alcohol ("We will place primacy on our academic endeavors, and recognize the importance of intellectual growth throughout our undergraduate careers";"Through our interactions on campus and in the broader community, we will demonstrate the virtues of compassion, sensitivity, and respect"). The mere outlining of these standards suggested that the players hadn't met them—the administrative equivalent of asking a man when he stopped beating his wife. Yet the findings of the Coleman Committee unequivocally held that the behavior of nearly all team members had conformed to these values.
An emerging problem, however, threatens to bedevil Duke’s new temperance crusade. Before March 13, an informal win/win/win arrangement seems to have existed regarding consumption of alcohol by Duke students. The administration would look the other way, provided underage drinking occurred off campus. Students could drink as they pleased, provided they were willing to pay nominal (usually $100) penalties or perform minimal community service if cited by local authorities. Durham could increase its coffers with fines collected from non-residents, provided its officials didn’t abuse the privilege enough to invite pressure from Duke alumni or parents. The only losers in this arrangement were those who lived nearby the off-campus residences occupied by around 25% of Duke’s undergraduates.
Several weeks ago, however, Nifong revoked the deals regarding the 15 lacrosse players (but not the other 385 Duke students cited for comparable offenses). But an unexpected development has occurred: the drinking charges haven’t stood up. To date, judges have dismissed the two cases that have come to court; there’s every reason to expect more forthcoming dismissals. The net result: by the end of the summer, a good chance exists that the percentage of alcohol-related offenses by lacrosse players will be essentially the same as that for Duke undergraduates as a whole.
Since admitting their early condemnations were overstated isn’t an alternative for Brodhead or the Group of 88, expect Durham’s WCTU revival to abruptly end. Options for a new sin to pin on the players aren’t many, but one does exist. In spring 2004, Professor Peter Wood complained to the administration when some lacrosse players missed one of his Friday classes to attend a practice. (An extracurricular obligation leading students to miss one class? Shocking!) But after the scandal erupted, Wood’s tale expanded into previously unmentioned territory, assaulting the players’ academic integrity. The Coleman Committee found no evidence to substantiate these new allegations; even Wood’s T.A. could not confirm his revisionist claims. But she offered her professor a concession: the players, she said, had exhibited “aggressive body language.” She hastened to add that: (1) she hadn’t commented about this issue at the time; (2) she had received no complaints on the matter from any students in the class; and (3) she could recall no specific event in which the players’ “aggressive body language” was memorable. This is the perfect offense: since it’s wholly subjective and no one can remember it, it can’t be disproved.
As part of the team’s new “mission statement,” Brodhead required each lacrosse player to pledge to “display the courage necessary to advocate just causes in the face of public or social pressures.” Since March 14, that’s what each and every member of the lacrosse team seems to have done. They have faced extraordinary public pressure from a local prosecutor who has operated under the premise that state ethics guidelines don’t apply to him. On campus, their own administration refused to stand up for their basic rights, while they faced harsh attacks from the only faculty publicly commenting about their status. And yet the lacrosse players have maintained fidelity to the most basic of “just causes”—the belief that authorities should follow normal procedures for all, regardless of the race, class, or gender of the subjects under investigation. Unfortunately, operating in an atmosphere of academic groupthink, both Brodhead and the Group of 88 have seemed much more willing than members of the team to bend to “public or social pressures.” Perhaps it’s time for the Duke administration and faculty to adopt a new mission statement?