Rushing to judgment

Some things are just right, or wrong. Some things, it's not quite so clear-cut.

Take, for instance, criminals. You've heard of them. They're bad people. They do bad things and they go to jail. They break the laws of our land, and they get their just punishments, and they deserve our contempt.

But: Let's say you know the person behind the rap sheet. Does that make things any different?

Let's first walk through a completely hypothetical situation.

Nasty car accident. Other person dies. Sad all the way around, isn't it? We're not talking about an out-of-the-ordinary car accident; just your basic collision, but at just the exact miles-per-hour or angle that caused one of the drivers to die. We feel terribly sorry for the surviving driver; imagine bearing that guilt? In some ways, he or she is a victim too.

OK. Now let's look at the surviving driver's driving record:

4/85: Failure to yield, non-injury accident
4/87: Speeding
4/87: Speeding
6/87: Speeding
10/88: Failure to yield, non-injury accident
6/90: Speeding
10/93: Speeding
9/96: Failure to yield, no accident
6/97: Speeding
4/00: Speeding
10/01: Lane usage violation
11/05: Failure to change lanes when officer is on side of road
6/06: Speeding, construction zone.

Suddenly, that's no accident. That's vehicular homicide. This driver was clearly a menace and probably should never have been on the road. Sumbitch should be locked up and never allowed behind the wheel again. Perspective changes a bit, yes?

Well, now, let's change the perspective again: That's my driving record.

Those who know me know that I'm not a dangerous driver, other than that I've had a lifelong tendency to view speed limits as guidelines. But those who don't know me would not give me the benefit of that doubt. They'd want me locked up.

You, who know me, would argue vigorously against locking me up. After all, it was an accident, and excessive speed wasn't even involved. But somebody reading about my hypothetical wreck in the paper -- or in a manila folder on a bench wearing a funny robe -- would hypothetically recommend I spend some time in a hypothetical prison.

Now let's walk through a real situation.

In a really cryptic post below, I refer to a "good person who's done a bad thing." The good person is a former co-worker of mine. He was the person assigned to make me feel at home when we first moved to the Edge of America 11 years ago. He did the same job as I did at the paper, and did it pretty well. He was extremely helpful, and became a good friend. He was funny and talented and fun-loving, and kept the entire department laughing even during times of the highest stress.

I haven't talked to him in years; we each moved on in our careers, in different directions.

He stands today accused of a pretty heinous felony. Nobody got hurt, and there was no real possibility that anyone would have been hurt, but it was likely very scary for the victims just the same.

I knew he treated himself occasionally to substances that were a bit stronger than Bud Light. Word is he's been treating himself lately to substances stronger yet, substances that have ruined his career and are likely responsible for the position he's in today.

I want him to get help. I know he needs to be punished. I know the general public thinks he's just another criminal. I think that sucks. But I can understand why.

If you've known somebody or had a family member who found himself on the wrong side of a correctional facility, you understand the conflict in emotions it causes. It throws off the whole right-and-wrong, don't-do-the-crime-if-you-can't-do-the-time simplicity of it all. I have some pretty solid ideas on right and wrong; I still stand by my contention, for instance, that anybody who does hard drugs deserves whatever he or she gets, whether it be rehab, prison or untimely death.

And maybe it all really is that simple. But I'm not convinced of that.