The cornerstone of the English common law on which the
United States legal system is founded is the presumption that every single
person is innocent until he or she can be proven guilty. You may “know” in your heart that someone is
guilty of everything of which you accuse him or her, or of the vague rumors you
thought you heard somewhere or other, but if you cannot prove that someone has done something, then (as Mortimer Adler
pointed out in Ten Philosophical Mistakes)
all you have is opinion.
Here’s the catch — and the reason that every single man,
woman, and child on the face of the earth must be presumed innocent until proven guilty. Not merely suspected. Not expedient. Not convenient. Proved
as a matter of fact, either through empirical evidence or logical
argument. No ifs, no ands, no buts.
Opinion, you see, no matter how strongly you hold it or how
desperately you may need to believe it, is (obviously) a matter of opinion. It may be true, but it is not necessarily true.
In moral philosophy, spreading stories that you cannot prove
are true is “calumny,” a form of “detraction of another.” The Catholic Church classes calumny as a
“mortal sin,” meaning that if you die having spread unproved stories about
others in a serious matter, you go straight to hell for all eternity. (Even telling the truth in a way that harms
others when you have no right to do so or there is no need can get you into
trouble. It’s called “backbiting.”)
Calumny is a sin that “cries to heaven for vengeance,” and
for which reparation must be made.
Paradoxically, it is also virtually impossible to make reparation for
calumny. Ever try to convince your friends
that the stories you spread about your unfriends were (my bad!) not exactly
true? Oops.
If not worse, things tend to get a little more graphic when
you get away from religion and into the law and everyday life. Ever read the book by Walter Van Tilburg
Clark or see the film made from the novel, The
Oxbow Incident? They knew those guys were guilty, so they
hanged them. Only they weren’t
guilty. Oops. My bad.
On the good side, the sheriff helped them cover it up, or
the town would have looked really, really
bad. And a couple of people committed
suicide. No great loss. They were weak. These things happen.
We’ll stop the sarcasm now.
The absolute necessity of proof in determining guilt is why
the issue of the “buffer zone” around abortion clinics is a bit more visceral
than many appear to believe. Whether
you’re Pro-Life or Pro-Choice, you’ve got to be a little queasy at the way the
arguments are being framed. As Justice
Ruth Bader Ginzburg put it, the State,
“. . .
doesn’t know in advance who are the well-behaved people and who are the people
who won’t behave well . . . and after the disturbance occurs, it’s too late.”
Damn those inalienable rights! Why wait until something happens before
taking away someone’s rights to property, liberty — or life? An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of
cure, isn’t it?
Well, yes, many medicines are deadly poison if administered
incorrectly or to someone who isn’t sick, but isn’t that a price we have to pay
to prevent illness or maintain an orderly, well-behaved society? Better that a thousand innocent people should
suffer rather than one might-be guilty person go free.
It’s even in the Bible:
“Neither do you consider that it is expedient for you that one man
should die for the people and that the whole nation perish not.” (John 11:50.) There.
That proves it.
Some people must not be permitted to own capital because
they might not know how to own, and they might misuse their ownership. Some people should not be permitted to voice
their opinions or associate with others because they might do something wrong,
or that others find offensive. Some
people should not be permitted to live because they might not be good citizens
or they might become a burden on society.
Can you — or should you — take away people’s rights just
because you’re afraid of what someone might
do by exercising them? Can we even be
said to have rights if the State or
anybody else can take them away when they feel like it?
No, Justice Ginzburg.
You can’t take away someone’s rights because of what someone might do. In a just society (and as a judge you should
understand this better than anyone), a person can only be guilty of something
he or she has actually done, not something that you think he or she might do, however much that fact
displeases you.
Anything less is tyranny.
#30#