19 September 2019
Feet of Clay
A bad thing?
By John Watson
The blogger who at the end of the third test described the Ashes as a cricket tournament in which Australia played against Ben Stokes certainly had a point but he could have made it the other way round. He could have said that it was a tournament between Steve Smith and England, such has been the massive impact of two of the greatest players in the world upon the series. It has been a pleasure and a privilege to watch them and although each may have primarily warmed the hearts of his own team’s supporters, no one could say that they have performed other than heroically. Cool under pressure, iron nerves, courage carefully controlled, hard-work, discipline, a sportsmanlike approach, the qualities they have brought to the series read like something out of Kipling. And yet both of these great players have emerged from under a shadow.
In the case of Stokes it was the brawl outside a Bristol nightclub which resulted in his being charged with affray. He was acquitted, no doubt rightly, on grounds of self-defence but I do not suppose he regards the incident as his finest hour. Steve Smith served a ban as a result of his involvement in a ball tampering incident in South Africa. In both cases the brilliance of their recent performances will have done much to wipe out unpleasant memories but it’s worth reflecting on the extent to which we are content for our heroes to have feet of clay and when they can or cannot return to the public eye.
It is tempting to look at the question as a sort of balancing act. If someone is needed badly enough, any historical or indeed ongoing transgressions will be overlooked. When Churchill, a lifetime enemy of communism, allied Britain to Stalin’s Russia he justified himself by saying that: “If Hitler invaded hell I would make at least a favourable reference to the devil in the House of Commons.” Who really thinks we would let disgust about the US’s treatment of immigrants block a trade deal? Distaste has to be swallowed in the case of need, whether that need is for sporting ability, for oil supplies, or for a free trade deal with an oppressive regime such as that of China. Only when there is no pressing need can a more moralistic line be taken.
The trouble with this sort of balancing is that it is very hard to do. Just how bad would the treatment of Saudi Arabian women have to be before we refused oil supplies from that country? What sort of offence or misjudgement should bar a talented player from playing for his national team? And who should be the judges here? Is it the press, the public or the politicians? If the latter, should we only take those who have led blemishless lives? It could be rather a small panel and, what is more, made up of rather boring people.
It is here that it all goes wrong. Can it really be right that the same offence is forgiven in one man but not in another just because the former has greater abilities or is needed more? That is an odd form of justice indeed, leading logically to a race of “Masters of the Universe” – those who are so badly needed that they can get away with any behaviour.
The more you get into these questions the more obvious it becomes that the balance approach is wrong. Yes, “needs must when the Devil drives” and all that, but the general approach must be built in sounder ground. Where to find it? Perhaps in the Christian philosophy on which our civilisation is built. The New Testament is full of warnings against judging others, so how does it deal with guilt? Its answer is to detach condemnation of the offence from condemnation of the offender, to hate the sin but forgive the sinner. Bringing that down to a practical level, the offence itself may merit punishment but, though punishment should where appropriate be exacted, the offender should not be regarded as some sort of pariah nor should his or her other contributions be ignored or denigrated.
That fits in with the best elements of our penal system which focuses on rehabilitation even if the practical steps to achieve that are very imperfect ones. It fits too with the generous tolerance on which we pride ourselves as a nation.
Still, the ability to see past the old errors at current achievements is becoming harder to find. Look at the politicians who are always trying to condemn each other for things which were either done years ago or are peripheral to their achievements. Did Jeremy Corbyn, when on the backbenches, share a platform with terrorists? Perhaps he did but surely the only relevant question now is whether he would do so again. Is Bercow a bully? I have no idea but the important question is how he has preserved the role of Parliament. Did some scientist make an ill-considered joke at a meeting? Perhaps he did, but how does that bear on the praise to which he is entitled because of his achievements? How have we become such dreadful Pharisees?
When someone has offended against the law, morality, current manners or behaved badly in some other way, merely reciting that fact is not a sufficient answer to their other achievements. The question is rather what relevance it has to those achievements, and when the incident is in the past the answer will normally be nothing whatever; that is the case whether they sat down with terrorists or did something unmentionable to a stuffed pig.
