To: Mary Schmich
From: Eric Zorn
More than ever, we need a Bygone Line: An established time in the past before which, we all agree, everything a person did–bad or good–is officially ancient history and doesn’t reflect in any way upon his character today.
Did illegal drugs? Won the national merit scholarship? Cheated on a lover? Scored the winning touchdown? Drove drunk? Saved a drowning man? Had wrinkles in your military service record? Won the Nobel Prize? Shot a man in Reno just to watch him die?
All bygones after a certain point, with the exception of the last two, which are among the sort of accomplishments or deeds that mark a person forever.
What inspires me to propose this, of course, is all this unseemly and I believe irrelevant discussion about the actions of our major presidential candidates in the Vietnam War era some 35 years ago.
Whether they were heroes or bums then, time and experience have totally changed them. And it’s only our culture’s faith in the predictive power of youthful indiscretion that inspires both men to be, I believe, less than candid about what really happened back then.
With the media strictly observing the Bygone Line, all queries dealing with apparent inconsistencies in the record would be dismissed with a curt, “bygone!” and we would have regarded John Kerry’s “reporting for duty” act at the convention with the same get-over-yourself weariness we’d have regarded him if he’d shown up wearing his high-school letter jacket.
I’m not saying that the past is unimportant–it’s better to evaluate a person by yesterday’s deeds rather than today’s words. I’m saying there’s a limit. I’m saying there’s a point at which the years and circumstances have so changed us that to discuss anything before that point is very likely to be misleading.
I propose we draw the line at 15 years ago or age 21 (whichever is greater) if you’re older than 30; 10 years ago or age 16 if you’re 21 to 30; 3 years ago or age 14, if you’re under 21.
Tell me you love the Bygone Line, Mary.
To: Eric Zorn
From: Mary Schmich
What an absurd idea.
Absurd because it assumes that only youthful indiscretions should be wiped off the public board when, in fact, many people commit some of their worst youthful indiscretions later in life.
It’s often later in life when stress–over money, careers, kids, relationships, the whole existential muddle–lures people down dark paths. It’s often in middle age that otherwise fine people become addled and, like any otherwise good performer who’s exhausted, prone to mistakes.
A moral error made at 58 is not necessarily more revealing of character than one made at 28. It shouldn’t necessarily be a bigger cloud on a life or an ambition.
So why should people who front-loaded their bad behavior be more exempt from scrutiny than the middle-age wretch whose record was golden until he fell off the balance beam because he was plain old tired?
I do believe, though, that in politics we obsess too much over single events in a person’s life. A person isn’t the sum of one bad call. Some system should be devised to spare us these distractions.
In fairness to older people, I’d propose two alternative systems to yours.
One: A person would get to pick, say, three years of his or her life that would be sealed from public view. Any three.
You, for example, might expunge 1978 from your record, along with 1986 and 2003. Can you think of three years of your life that contain some behavior you’d rather not hear about on Rush Limbaugh? Even Rush could benefit from this system.
Two: In general, patterns of behavior tell you more about a person’s character than a single incident. So I’d assign points to certain especially bad (though non-criminal) behaviors. Do it once, one point. Twice? Five points. Three times, 20 points.
Your points in various categories would be combined. A score of seven or more would allow your full file to be opened to the public.
It does make you wonder how the candidates would stack up against each other, even with the indulgences granted.
