A SERIOUS CASE

When evaluating an explanation of something – anything – one is naturally concerned with how extensive the explanation is. But an explanation, no matter how “factual” it purports to be, usually can't help to at least hint at an editorial comment. That is, the explanation nudges us toward forming a moral or biased position over the topic. Let us say I write that the reason the Trayvon Martin jury found George Zimmerman not guilty is that the state didn't prove his guilt. Many readers would be disposed to believe that I hold racist attitudes or that I pine for the “good old days” when people knew their places. Whether you, the reader, are a racist – a person who attributes human qualities on the basis of socially designated racial categories – or anti-racist, you will likely feel I am either a sympathizer or an antagonist to your beliefs, respectively. This is especially true of such topics as the trial where there are emotional positions either way. Each side of this case has built a narrative of what is believed to have gone down that night in which the teenager, Martin, was shot and killed.

One story centers on the idea that a well-conditioned youth pounced on an innocent man who was following the youth to find out what he was doing. Was the young man stalking about with criminal intent? That was, it is believed by Zimmerman's defenders, to be the concern of the neighborhood watchman. When pounced upon, punched in the face, and with his head being driven down to the concrete sidewalk, Zimmerman pulled out his gun – legally carried – and shot the youth in self-defense. This incident demonstrates why we need “stand your ground” laws.

The opposing narrative holds that this youth, with Skittles and a drink, was just walking around the neighborhood – in which he lived, at least part-time – and was accosted by this over-zealous, want-to-be cop. Tempers escalated, an altercation ensued, and, because of his prejudices, Zimmerman pulled out a gun and killed the young man. He might have believed Martin was about some criminal intent, but this was due to his bigoted attitudes.

The details of both of these narratives are sketchy at best since the only witness is the defendant. His story has not been consistent on all counts which his defenders claim is normal given the trauma of the incident but, to his detractors, demonstrates he is not telling the truth. What we know for sure is that a young person is dead at the hand of an armed man and that this youth was unarmed. We also know that the shooter had head and facial injuries that were not serious and that he had bits of grass along his backside and that his clothing on his backside was moist at the time he was questioned at the scene of the incident. Zimmerman is recorded voicing prejudicial comments when he called the police and he was instructed by the police person on the phone to not follow the young man. We know Martin was shot through the chest – one fatal shot. Except for the exact location of the incident, all the other “facts” were bits of interpretive analysis by “experts” of the physical evidence.

This case is ideal for the purposes of teaching about several federalist principles. One is local involvement by citizens; two, is the principle of equality and to the degree that citizens hold other citizens within a sense of “partnership” in a federal arrangement; three, the adversary model of trials in our judicial system, and four, the belief in innocence until proven guilty beyond a reasonable doubt – of particular interest here would be the relatively high bar such a standard represents.

For example, if I were teaching this topic, I would stress that a “not guilty” verdict does not mean that the members of the jury necessarily believe the Zimmerman narrative, but only that the Martin narrative was not proven by the prosecution beyond a reasonable doubt. This latter point is important because common punditry on TV seems to emphasize that the jury did not believe the state's contention against Zimmerman. This is not necessarily true. Using a lower standard of belief, the jury might very well believe in what the prosecution presented. But when they applied the “beyond a reasonable doubt” standard, they could not in good conscience accept that narrative. This understanding is essential if we are to hold to our belief in the reasonable doubt standard. This whole concern points out how unnatural it is for us to live by such a standard. We naturally want to either believe or disbelieve in a narrative. But, as Plato reminds us, belief lies somewhere between ignorance and knowledge. We should remember, in all of this, that it is possible to be wrong even when we believe in something beyond a reasonable doubt. The history of overturned convictions provides testimony to this probability.

I am glad to see that the case has been the stimulus for a national consideration of our attitudes toward race. I appreciate President Obama's language the other day emphasizing that the trial is over and that it was conducted according to our established procedures. Given this and given the fact that the trial has generated such an emotional response, we should take the time and effort to discuss our racial beliefs and attitudes. If the shooter were black and the deceased white, would we honestly believe in the narrative we have chosen to believe? This is a good test of how non-racial our attitude is about the case. As a matter of fact, a good way to introduce the topic in a classroom is to present a news report of the event with the race of the subjects reversed and see how students initially react to the shooting. Perhaps some time needs to pass for this bit of classroom trickery to work.