Every week there's another appalling story about the way college campuses deal with sexual misconduct. A Rolling Stone investigation of UVA shows that on some campuses there's not much of a response even if a student complains of being gang raped by seven men at a frat party. Among many astonishing details in the story: there were 38 allegations of sexual assault in a recent one year period at UVA; and no student has ever been expelled for sexual misconduct there, while many have been expelled for violating UVA's revered honor code.
On the other hand, there's this amazing story today about the other side of the sexual misconduct spectrum. A male Swarthmore student was expelled for an allegedly non-consensual, non-penetrative sex act that occurred a day before the alleged victim initiated consensual intercourse with him (she complained about the earlier act nearly two years later). Now Swarthmore is vacating that decision and giving the student a chance to have his case re-considered. (Understandably, he's moved on to another school.) Follow the link and read about the judicial process that led to the student's expulsion. Even if you're prepared to think an instance of sexual assault could conceivably precede consensual sex by just 24 hours, you have to agree that the accused student's case was horribly mishandled.
Anyone with college age sons and daughters (I have one of each) has to be completely appalled by both of these stories. And everyone else with empathy and a sense of justice.
Harry Brighouse and Adam Swift ask an interesting question about conferring advantage on children in their new book Family Values. We do all sorts of things that confer advantage, from reading kids bedtime stories to sending them to private schools. All these things get in the way of fair equality of opportunity, they say, giving children a leg up just because they happen to be born into better off, more educated families. But where should we draw the line? Which of our advantage-conferring practices, as parents, can be justified? Actually, they focus on a narrower question: which of these things can be justified "by appeal to the value of the family and must be permitted if people are to realize that value in their lives"? (p. 246)
Their answer is that advantage-conferring practices can be justified by appeal to the value of the family only if they are needed for intimate family life. Reading bedtime stories is fine, even if it does confer advantages over others, and so is attending church together. Here's a passage that conveys the general idea--
Without substantial opportunity to share himself intimately with his child, in ways that reflect his own judgments about what is valuable, the parent is deprived of the ability to forge and maintain an intimate relationship, and the child is deprived of that relationship. The loss is to the core of what is valuable about the relationship. The loss is to the core of what is valuable about the relationship. Imagine that parents are barred from engaging in these or relevantly similar activities, or, less drastically, that such activities are made very difficult: the opportunities for realizing the familiar relationship good that justify the family would be severely limited. (p. 125)Their paradigm case of a practice not justified along these lines is sending kids to private school. That confers an advantage that interferes with equal opportunity and isn't necessary so that parent and child can enjoy an intimate, mutually satisfying family life.
This way of drawing the line is going to validate some of what affluent parents do, but also condemn a lot of what they do. So let's see, what gets validated? (Most of these examples aren't theirs.)
- Bedtime stories, they say. I'm not so sure. Possibly I could have as much quality, intimate time with my kids if we watched a little TV before bed. But let's let that pass. Bedtime stories are in.
- Going to museums. This confers an educational advantage, but maybe it passes muster, if my child and I love being together at museums in a way we don't love being together at, say, a bowling alley.
- Traveling to national parks. There's definitely an educational advantage conferred, but it might be OK, since vacation time does generate family intimacy, and I just can't enjoy Disneyland in the way I can enjoy a national park.
- Buying high school students laptop computers so they can easily manage schoolwork, access online assignments, etc. The computers confer an advantage and aren't necessary for family intimacy. Yes kids appreciate the gift, but only briefly so, and laptops actually tend to make kids retreat from the family.
- Flying around on college trips so kids can decide where to apply "early decision". All of that confers an advantage, reducing fair equality of opportunity, and doesn't do much for family intimacy. (Stress, arguing, etc.....)
- Music lessons. All advantage, not a lot of intimacy, considering the stress over the years about practicing, performing, etc.
Though not a libertarian, I am drawn to what many libertarians say about the family. My personal liberty to spend my own money includes liberty to spend on my kids, because "children themselves form part of one's substance." They "form part of a wider identity you have" (Robert Nozick, The Examined Life, p. 28). If I may buy myself a laptop and thereby have advantages over other workers (Brighouse and Swift don't say otherwise), I'm very tempted to think I can also buy my kids a laptop. The worry that all kids ought to start life on an equal footing falsely presents kids as totally distinct from their parents. But that's a huge thing to try to argue, especially in a quick blog post.
I have a more modest objection to what Brighouse and Swift are saying about when it's OK to confer advantages. Suppose I have all sorts of money to spend on laptops, books, education, and whatnot, for myself. I may secure those advantages for myself; presumably I'm entitled to them, on their view. What kind of family life would I have if I bought myself a laptop and then told my kids they couldn't have one, because they needed to remain on a level playing field with other children? Imagine this happening again, and again. "X is fine for me, but not for you!" Conferring advantages (without an intimacy payoff) may actually be necessary for a family life that's internally harmonious and egalitarian. An alternative would be that I don't get to have a laptop either, but that would put an awfully heavy burden on parents. Do they really have to make themselves less competitive at work, once they have kids?
Surely there are some ways of conferring advantage on children that are illegitimate (I can think of several that amount to outright cheating). I'm just not entirely convinced that as many things are illegitimate as the authors claim.
My review of Well-Being: Happiness in a Worthwhile Life, by Neera K. Badhwar, is at Notre Dame Philosophy Reviews.
at 11:44 AM
So we were in Prague last summer and discovered this thing called a "table charge." I'm not really sure exactly what it is, but here's one possibility--the table charge is for stuff that's standardly put on the table--bread, water, a spot of liqueur after the meal. I thought it was pretty annoying, because I wasn't given a choice whether to order that stuff or not. The prices on the menu suggest a rule that goes "You pay for what you order" and the table charge violates that rule. I could have protested the charge, I think (note: it's not standard in Prague and wasn't stated anywhere).
Segue to the duties of adult children... A famous paper by Jane English says adult children owe nothing to their parents because they didn't ask to be born and raised. For kids to have a duty to support their parents in old age, for example, would be like me having to pay the table charge even though I didn't ask for the bread, water, etc. They have no such duty, she claims.
I do think adult children have duties to their parents, but how so? Adding a second chapter to the restaurant story sheds some light. Suppose on my second night in Prague, I deliberately go to the restaurant with the table charge because I like the food. I also now realize that, compared to restaurants without a table charge, the prices on this restaurant's menus are fairly low. Furthermore, I now anticipate the liqueur at the end of the meal, so order less wine. On the second night, would I be entitled to protest the charge, let alone with righteous indignation?
My sense is that after the first night, I've altered my attitudes and dispositions so that, though I never ask for the bread, water, etc., I can be counted as "pro" receiving them. I'm on board with the system, so to speak. And so I do have a duty to pay the table charge and can't protest. Moral of the story: asking for items is not the only way I can acquire a duty to pay for them.
Children don't ask to be born, and don't accumulate a duty to care for their aging parents starting on the first day of life. But over the years of being cared for, they can be reluctant recipients of care they'd rather not receive, or enthusiastic recipients. When they are past the tender years of childhood, they can take steps toward independence or deliberately continue being cared for and supported. If you enthusiastically encourage your parents' support, it seems to me you do start to be indebted to them, like I was indebted to the Prague restaurant for the table items, despite not asking for them.
Wouldn't it be awful if adult children actually thought about how to treat their elderly parents as if they were related as restaurant owner to customer? And yet even if they do, it's not out of the question at all that adult children do owe something to their parents, even if they never explicitly asked to be born or raised.
at 11:42 AM