Total Pageviews

Pictures of the Day: Germany and Elsewhere

#flashHeader{visibility:visible !important;}

Photos from Germany, Israel, New Jersey and France.

Follow Lens on Facebook and Twitter.



Who Does the Ethicist Think He Is?

Is it ethical for a student to submit the same paper in two college classes? That was the question posed to the Ethicist in last Sunday’s Times Magazine. His answer, in brief, was yes. It may be lazy, he concluded, but it’s not unethical.

The Ethicist, also known as Chuck Klosterman, wrote: “I don’t think this is cheating. I wouldn’t say it qualifies as ‘genius,’ and it might get you expelled from some universities. Yet I can’t isolate anything about this practice that harms other people, provides you with an unfair advantage or engenders an unjustified reward.”

A number of readers were quick to object. Michael J. Murray, an assistant professor at the University of Houston, described himself as “deeply disappointed and somewhat offended.” He said that at his university, this would be seen as a form of plagiarism, and certainly as academic dishonesty.

Another reader, Sandra Wilde of the City University of New York, suggested that by any measure â€" university rules or the common-sense use of one’s conscience â€" Mr. Klosterman was off base.

“I often think he gets it wrong, but today’s column crosses a line,” she wrote. “Academic integrity is an explicit set of expectations that provide ground rules for those at universities. A good rule for judging the ethics of your own behavior is whether you’d admit to it upfront, not whether you can do it well enough to get away with it.”

I asked Mr. Klosterman to explain his thinking beyond what he said in the column and to respond to the critics. He wrote:

I understand people’s response to this, and it’s not an unreasonable argument to make. But my opinion remains (essentially) identical to what I first wrote. Many of the people responding to this column are working from the position that this is unethical because it goes against whatever the university policy or honor code specifies. However, those specific policies don’t factor into this determination. The honor code at Brigham Young University outlaws homosexual behavior â€" does this mean having a homosexual relationship at B.Y.U. is unethical, simply because a rule exists? Does it mean that it’s not unethical to have a homosexual relationship at Utah State, but it somehow IS unethical the moment you transfer to Provo? There is a difference between something being unethical in a natural sense and something being unethical because an arbitrary ethics policy states that this is the case. I don’t care what the University of Houston has decreed. Moreover, would the writer of that lette agree with my response if â€" for whatever reason â€" the University of Houston suddenly amended their policy? I don’t think he/she would. This kind of contradiction happens all the time with this column. Legislation does not define ethical behavior. For example (as one commenter noted), it’s illegal for a United States citizen to visit Cuba â€" but it’s not remotely unethical. It’s unlawful to drive 56 mph on a deserted state highway, but it’s clearly not an unethical practice. This column is not titled “How to Avoid Jail” or “Is This Sanctioned?” It Is about how things ought to be â€" considered in a vacuum, but applied to practical living.

Many readers who write to me about the Ethicist â€" and I hear a lot of complaints, as does Mr. Klosterman â€" challenge his credentials. For example, Thomas D. Harter of La Crosse, Wis., objects to Mr. Klosterman’s lack of credentials in ethics, a field in which Mr. Harter has expertise. “To allow him to dole out ‘advice’ under this false designation is a shame, and, ironically, unethical,” he wrote.

I asked Mr. Klosterman about that, as well. He readily admits that he has no such degree and says that he finds the question a little bizarre.

As for what my “credentials” for this job are … that’s always a strange question. The idea that I would need a degree in ethics to do this job is extremely strange. Is the assumption that all the film critics for The New York Times have film degrees? Do all the music critics have degrees in musicology? Would The Times not hire a business reporter because she didn’t have a J-school degree and an entrepreneurial background? You’re the public editor, and you seem good at your job â€" but do you have a degree in public policy? Perhaps you do, but I don’t see how that would be essential. The wonderful thing about the Ethicist position is that no one is truly qualified and everyone is partly qualified. The experience of living, the experience of considering life’s problems, the ongoing experience of trying to place an objective reality into an inherently subjective world â€" these are as close to “credentials” as I possess. It’s the same reason this column generates so much resonse: It’s not distant from anyone’s life. When someone asks, “Well, what are your credentials for this position?” it’s no different than if I responded to that question by saying, “Well, what are your credentials for asking that question?” Neither sentiment is meaningful. I’m not claiming to be more ethical than other people. I’m just a guy considering problems. (And if it matters, I have a degree in journalism.)

I asked him to elaborate on his background, and he wrote:

I grew up on a farm outside of Wyndmere, N.D. (very small town, fewer than 500 people). My dad was a farmer and my mom taught in a one-room schoolhouse before becoming a housewife. I have four sisters and two brothers (I’m the youngest of seven). I went to the University of North Dakota and graduated with a communications degree in 1994. I worked at the newspaper in Fargo (The Forum) from 1994 to 1998, covering popular culture. I then worked for The Akron Beacon Journal from 1998 to 2002 (initially as a pop culture reporter, then as the film critic, then as the music critic). My first book came out in 2001. Spin magazine hired me in May 2002, and I moved to New York. I was a columnist for Esquire for four years (roughly 2004 to 2008). I taught American Studies at the University of Leipzig in Germany during the summer of ’08. I am currently a consultant and writer for Grantland, as well as having the job at The Times. My eighth book comes out this July.

Here’s my take: Mr. Klosterman’s column is always an interesting read in The Times. It’s thought provoking, it often challenges conventional wisdom, and I’m sure it ignites conversations and arguments everywhere. (At last count, there were nearly 400 comments on the “two papers” column.) That’s all good.

But calling him “the Ethicist,” with no other explanation, certainly does imply that he has some special expertise.

Granted, renaming the column “Just a Guy Considering Problems” is probably not quite catchy enough. But, as usual, I think transparency with the reader points the way. Some explanation each week â€" even a single line, in a light tone â€" of who Mr. Klosterman is and the intentions of the column would help readers know that this isn’t the word from Mount Olympus. Nor is it intended to be. It’s just one man’s opinion.



The Woman in a Jim Crow Photo

#flashHeader{visibility:visible !important;}

When Joanne Wilson stepped out to enjoy a balmy summer afternoon with her niece in 1956, she stepped into history. The two stood in front of a movie theater in downtown Mobile, Ala., dressed in their Sunday best. But the neon sign that loomed overhead â€" “Colored Entrance” â€" cast a despairing shadow.

“I wasn’t going in,” Mrs. Wilson recalled. “I didn’t want to take my niece through the back entrance. She smelled popcorn and wanted some. All I could think was where I could go to get her popcorn.”

That moment was captured by Gordon Parks, who was working on a Life photo essay that documented everyday life among an extended African-American family in the rural South. Although it was not among the final selections published in September 1956 as “The Restraints: Open and Hidden,” the photograph of Mrs. Wilson and her niece, Shirley Diane Kirksey, is among the most compelling of the project.

We usually associate civil rights photography with dramatic scenes of historic events. But this image helps us to understand that the battle for racial equality and justice was waged not just through epic demonstrations, speeches and conflagrations, but also through the quiet actions of individuals.

More than half a century later, the Gordon Parks Foundation honored Mrs. Wilson with a gift of that color print during its celebrity-filled annual awards dinner at the Plaza Hotel in New York City. Speaking in a lilting but strong voice, Mrs. Wilson recounted on Tuesday night what it was like to encounter and work with Mr. Parks â€" how comfortable he made her feel and her need to teach him, the Northerner, “the things we could do and the things we could not do” under the watchful eyes of segregationists.

White supremacists understood the power of the camera to expose their violent prejudices and turn the nation against them. As Mr. Parks recalled later, the risk of retaliation for participating in the Life story was great, both for the photographer and for his subjects. But neither he nor Mrs. Wilson would be intimidated.

DESCRIPTIONGordon Parks, courtesy of the Gordon Parks Foundation A black classroom in Shady Grove, Ala., 1956.

“My family saw the photo essay as an opportunity to advance the cause of civil rights,” said Michael Wilson, Mrs. Wilson’s son and the family historian. “These pictures were going to be published in a national magazine. People across the country would clearly see the problem. They could see our plight. Maybe then we could get help.”

Despite the poverty and racial enmity all around her, Mrs. Wilson endeavored to make life for her family as normal as possible. In 1956, she married Troy Wilson, a longshoreman. They had two children. After receiving her college degree, she taught American government and economics for 36 years at Mattie T. Blount High School, which served a predominantly black and low-income community in Prichard, Ala.

Like her father, Albert Thornton Sr., she believed in the power of education to uplift African-Americans and prepare them to overcome racism and segregation. Each year, she organized a bake sale to finance a trip to Atlanta for her female students and introduce them to the city’s historically black colleges.

Mrs. Wilson, who was not featured in the final photo essay, survived its publication relatively unscathed. Her sister and brother in-law, Allie Lee Causey and Willie Causey, were less fortunate. Mrs. Causey, a teacher in a ramshackle one-room schoolhouse in Shady Grove, Ala., was quoted in the piece as advocating integration as “the only way through which Negroes will receive justice.” One of the most outspoken members of the Thornton family, she helped to organize voter drives and teach community members the Bill of Rights, the recital of which from memory was a prerequisite for African-Americans to vote in many Southern states.

As Life later reported, Mrs. Causey’s candor and activism infuriated white supremacists, who taunted the couple about their participation in the photo essay. Service stations refused to sell gas to Mr. Causey, a woodcutter and farmer. He was soon accused of owing money on his truck, which was seized by alleged creditors. Without it, he was unable to work. Two weeks after the photo essay was published, Mrs. Causey was fired from her teaching job. Unable to make a living and fearing for their safety, the couple moved out of Alabama.

Mrs. Causey, who died in 2006, never taught again.

Despite these setbacks, the family had no misgivings about appearing in the piece. “Everyone was very impressed with the article,” Mr. Wilson said. “They felt that they had made a friend. Gordon had become part of the family.” After the essay was published, Mr. Parks would periodically check in with Mrs. Wilson’s parents.

Mrs. Wilson’s only quibble with the photograph of her and her niece was that Mr. Parks did not tell her the strap of her slip had fallen. “I always wanted to look neat and nice,” she said. “I did not want to be mistaken for a servant. Dressing well made me feel first class. I wanted to set an example.”

But Mr. Parks may have had a reason for the oversight: a desire to stress the human side of an image that, in its refinement and flair, could at first be mistaken for one of his fashion photographs. In this context, Mrs. Wilson was not just challenging racism and stereotypes through meticulous self-presentation. She was also going about her daily life, like millions of women, black and white â€" tending to the needs of an energetic young child, but in a hostile environment.

The price she paid for meeting this responsibility, as anyone who has cared for a child knows, was the distraction that made her overlook the fallen strap. Yet, it is this poignant detail that helps us to identify with her. And it is this appeal to empathy, a central goal of Mr. Parks’s civil rights work, that helped him to challenge racism’s abiding myth: that we are fundamentally different.

The decision of the Gordon Parks Foundation to honor Mrs. Wilson challenges another misconception: that history is principally the domain of the famous and powerful. As the Life photo essay shows, history is also made through the daily, unheralded acts of ordinary people. What we see in Mr. Parks’s image is a determined and self-possessed woman, challenging stereotypes and fortifying herself against the poisonous tide of oppression that threatened to engulf her and her family.

Mrs. Wilson’s humanity was under assault, and she chose, in her own way, to fight back. Fifty-seven years later, that moment is potent proof that even the smallest gesture, seen through the right eyes, can change the world.

DESCRIPTIONGordon Parks, courtesy of the Gordon Parks Foundation Shady Grove, 1956.

Maurice Berger is a research professor and the chief curator at the Center for Art, Design and Visual Culture at the University of Maryland, Baltimore County, and a consulting curator at the Jewish Museum in New York. He is the author of 11 books, including a memoir, “White Lies: Race and the Myths of Whiteness.” He curated a show, “For All the World to See: Visual Culture and the Struggle for Civil Rights,” and contributed essays to “Gordon Parks: Collected Works” (Steidl, 2013).

Follow @MauriceBerger and @nytimesphoto on Twitter. Lens is also on Facebook.



Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)