In my office I have a Penn State hat
signed by the school’s famed late coach, Joe Paterno. My parents gave it to me,
having received it at a corporate leadership conference at which JoePa was a
featured speaker. His topic was integrity, and for many he epitomized the
concept. The Penn State football uniforms were decidedly old school – no player
names on the back, no decals on the helmets signifying interceptions, hits, or
other performance targets. The coach disdained post-play showboating by team
members – why should a player celebrate something he was supposed to have been
doing in the first place? Devout Catholics, Paterno and his wife lived simply
and behaved humbly. They contributed to the well-being of the community and
University, co-chairing the capital campaign for a new library and donating a
million dollars for a new hospital wing. Graduation rates of football players
under Paterno were above the national average and he was known as a mentor who
emphasized citizenship and integrity among his players. His abrupt firing in
the wake of the Sandusky sex abuse scandal led to student revolt and enduring
efforts to clear his name.
How can someone so roundly recognized as
a person of integrity fail so spectacularly? And, if it can happen to him, can
it happen to any of us?
Although the answers are speculative,
they are worth considering. Good people fail because they aren’t as good as
their image suggests. They also fail because of ignorance, denial, misplaced
loyalty, short-term thinking, and perceived helplessness. I’ll address these
features in this and upcoming blogs. First, some caveats: 1) my closest
connection to Joe Paterno is the hat in my office, so I rely on the reports of
others for insight into the man and his actions. Those sources may or may not
be honest and valid, though I do the best I can to weed out overly biased
accounts in either direction. 2) In the big scheme of the Penn State/Second
Mile scandal, Joe Paterno is a very minor character (albeit the best known).
Jerry Sandusky has been convicted on 45 counts of crimes against children, two
PSU officials are charged with perjury, civil suits are lining up on behalf of
victims, and investigations are underway concerning the two organizations
involved. There are plenty of failures worth examining, and I likely will do so
as the cases unfold. For now, though, I will focus on Paterno, whose outcome
was so greatly at odds with his image. Let’s start with a recap of the case.
Case Review
On February 9, 2001, assistant coach Mike
McQueary went to Paterno’s home and revealed that he had observed sexual abuse of
a youngster by Sandusky in Penn State facilities the evening before. (The exact
language McQueary used is in contention, with some suggesting that he wasn’t
explicit in his explanation to his elderly mentor, and others maintaining that
the message was sufficiently clear). Paterno reported
it
to his supervisor, Athletic Director Tim Curley, and appeared to leave it in
his hands. Ultimately, with the consent of the University President, the
leaders merely forbade Sandusky future access to PSU facilities. In November,
2012, grand jury findings alleged years of sexual abuse by Sandusky, including
at least four cases that occurred following the 2001 case. Joe Paterno told the
PSU Board that he would resign at the end of the football season but was fired
immediately, as was PSU President Graham Spanier.
At least part of the continuing outrage
at Paterno’s termination is based on the belief that he was made the scapegoat
for the failings of his superiors. Many contend that he did what was right in
reporting it and had no legal or organizational responsibility to pursue it
further. Others feel he had a moral responsibility to assure that proper steps
were taken, in light of his power and position and the victimization of
vulnerable youths. The Coach himself said in November, "This is a
tragedy".
"It is one of the great sorrows of my life. With the benefit of hindsight,
I wish I had done more." Recent developments in the case suggest that
Paterno did continue to be involved beyond his initial report to Curley, and
that his actions contributed to the cover-up. Reports released
yesterday
reveal that administrators initially agreed upon a three-step remedy to the
assault, including confronting Sandusky and banning him from campus, notifying
The Second Mile charity, and reporting the case to child welfare authorities.
Following a meeting with Paterno, the third step of the plan was dropped. The
leaders suggested they would encourage Sandusky to get professional help and
that this would constitute “a more humane and upfront way to handle” it.
Whether the errors were in what he did
or what he failed to do, the roots of Paterno’s lapse of integrity are germane
to all of us. For starters, perhaps he could have done better if he had known
more.
Failure of
Knowledge
Though school administrators and
teachers are mandated reporters in Pennsylvania, college coaches are not. Nevertheless,
anyone is entitled to report their suspicions of abuse or
neglect to child protective services. Child abuse was probably not a common
part of Joe Paterno’s lexicon or life experience. The coach admits as much in a
January 2012
interview
with The Washington Post. “I didn’t know exactly how to handle it and I was afraid
to do something that might jeopardize what the university procedure was,” he
said. “So I backed away and turned it over to some other people, people I
thought would have a little more expertise than I did. It didn’t work out that
way.”
Despite the
widespread publicity about pedophilia in the Catholic Church, the notion of
sodomy was even more difficult for the 85 year old to reckon with. In
addressing the ambiguity over McQueary’s report to him, he told the Post, “You know, he didn’t want to get
specific,” Paterno said. “And to be frank with you I don’t know that it would
have done any good, because I never heard of, of, rape and a man. So I just did
what I thought was best. I talked to people that I thought would be, if there
was a problem, that would be following up on it.”
In addition
to the lack of knowledge about procedures for addressing abuse and the harm
such abuse causes victims, Coach Paterno and the PSU administrators also appear
to have lacked knowledge of the characteristics of pedophilia. A stern talking
to or a close call with reporting is insufficient to curb the assaults. Sandusky’s
continued exploitation of youth following the 1998 investigation serves as
evidence of that.
There
are many remedies for failures of knowledge: to be aware, to learn more, to
avoid willful ignorance, and to seek out those who can educate us when we
ourselves lack the knowledge to act.
Coming up in the next blog, the powerful
combination of denial and loyalty.
