For lifelong football fans, myself included, this might be a shocking question. Perhaps it seems like something only those in high academics would debate. But, with the recent death of Junior Seau, the ethicality of football has been front and center. For those of you who don’t follow the sports world, Junior Seau was a linebacker who played most famously with the San Diego Chargers, becoming a sports icon in the San Diego area. Seau retired in 2010, after playing since high school. In 2012, he committed suicide at age 43. Later, it was revealed that Seau suffered from chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE), a form of chronic brain damage that has been discovered in other NFL players who died, as well. For those who knew Seau, they say the last few months of his life were marked with abnormal behavior. Just this month, the Seau family sued the NFL over the brain injuries he sustained during his career as a linebacker.

My first reaction to hearing about Seau’s tragic suicide was probably similar to many others who followed the story. Though terribly sad, Seau chose to play football and knew the injuries were a risk. Sure, the NFL could have provided more medical and psychological help to its players once they retired, but it doesn’t seem like we can hold them responsible for his death, right? But, then I started reading more and more about the perils of professional football.

In 2010 Malcolm Gladwell penned what has since become a rather famous op-ed in the New Yorker comparing football to dog fighting. Gladwell recounted the story dozens of former NFL and college players who are, or were, suffering from brain injuries. Line players can suffer up to 1,000 hits in the head in just one season. All these head injuries seem to have a real and scary effect on the players. Seau’s suicide wasn’t the first, and certainly won’t be the last. In 2006, Andre Waters, a defensive back, shot himself; Owen Thomas, a defensive end and former UPenn captain, hung himself; retired safety Dave Duerson shot himself in 2011; and former safety Ray Easterling shot himself just a week before Seau did. This is not an isolated incident.

But, football players choose to play football. They are never forced to play, and in fact few who desire to play at the highest levels achieve it. Moreover, they’re getting paid a pretty good sum of money, so that makes up for possible injuries and risk…right? The flip side of this free will argument is that football is, as BuzzFeed writer Kevin Lincoln wrote, “the contemporary equivalent of gladiatorial combat…killing young men slowly…our loyalty condones this and makes it not only acceptable but wildly profitable.”

Do both these arguments have merit? Certainly, no one is ever forced to play, but the cult of adoration surrounding football creates a whirlwind that becomes hard to stop. Perhaps most alarming is that these dangerous hits don’t start at the college level, or even high school. It starts in elementary school with Pop Warner. Moreover, it’s not as if the trauma of multiple hits to the head begins when a player actually makes it into professional football. It begins all the way back in elementary school and slowly builds. College athletes aren’t even paid for the risks they are taking. Should we really let children play a game we know to be dangerous and have potentially life-altering effects? And, football hits have gotten more severe over time as players get faster and bigger. Even President Obama shared some concerns about this in a recent interview, saying that although the NFL players are getting paid, “as we start thinking about the pipeline, Pop Warner, high school, college, I want to make sure we are doing everything we can to make the sport safer.”

Moreover, why isn’t the NFL doing more to help the current players and those entering the game at a young age. Rather than address the physical and psychological traumas of football, the NFL constantly finds ways to obfuscate and ignore the issue. It will be interesting to see what their reaction to the Seau family suit will be

But, even if the NFL were more open with their players about the potentially behavior-altering, traumatic nature of football, what else could they do? Short of banning football or capping how long players can play (which seems unlikely given the extraordinary pay incentives and loyal fanbase), as long as people keep watching football, football will still be played. So, do we have an ethical imperative to stop watching football? Should we demand real change in the NFL’s policies and incentive system in order to protect the players? Are we contributing to the disturbingly long litany of former NFL players who have committed suicide or been seriously affected by brain injuries?

It’s hard for me to address these questions. I have always loved football. I’ve watched games with my dad since I can remember. I have many good memories of Duke Football game days, Super Bowl parties, and Friday night games in high school. It’s not something that’s easy for me to come to terms with—yet, I can’t deny how troubling I find all the evidence mounted up against the NFL. I don’t know what the answer is, but I do know that yesterday I was thinking about a lot more than what kind of wings I should get for my Super Bowl party.  

In less than three weeks, Cameron will be awash with bobbing blobs of blue: a stampede of hopping feet vertically propels faces encrusted with paint. Behold the enduring war cry: “GO TO HELL CAROLINA, GO TO HELL!” And golly, we feel great banishing our neighbors to the infernal pits. We gleefully rejoice when our team’s foul goes unnoticed. A twisted Tarheell ankle wrings out hoots of delight from the Crazies, even as the player’s face writhes in anguish.

Such is the ethics of parochialism: the practice of prioritizing the happiness of a select few over the happiness of the many.

For those not familiar with Cameron Crazies, check out this video of parochialism in action:

This communal frenzy is not morally bankrupt. There are three reasons why a good person could, or even must, have a parochial moral compass.

First and foremost, a good person has to be a person. As people, we thrive on our social relations, be it the narrative of an imagined community, such as America or Duke, or the biological ties which tether a father’s affection to his toddler. We cannot be shorn of special obligations. Caring for a select group of people who are an integral, inextricable part of ourselves can be construed as ethical self-regarding.

Next, what constitutes the goodness of a good person? Goodness cannot be divorced from what it means to be a person. Nourishing the social identities we have either chosen or been bestowed with forces trade offs. A dollar spent on pediatric care could have provided Malaria vaccines that would have preserved more quality/disability-adjusted life years. However, being good involves being parochially other-regarding, selectively diverting our limited time, money, and affections to those who help us meaningfully flourish as a social being.

Finally, a healthy dose of parochialism can help us make decisions. A person cannot digest all necessary information to make a utility-maximising decision in every circumstance. Thus, parochialism helps us choose and lends clarity to the consequences of ethically-knotted decisions.

But note the caveat: “a healthy dose.” Dragged to the extremes, parochialism can be unbridled racism or a callous disregard for people considered the alien “other.” The idea of a person as a social being also expands the horizons of one’s moral considerations. As we bump, rub shoulders with, and converse with the “other”, more people trickle into our social life. However, come the 13th of February, the Grand Canyon between two shades of blue remains vituperatively, and quite ethically, profound.

___

Jing Song Ng (T’13) is a recently graduated Public Policy and Cultural Anthropology double major. At Duke, Jing Song was a dedicated member of Duke Debate and wrote a column for The Chronicle, “Jingapore Says.”

Why second? Because that’s what actually happened, and frankly, first will just be a bit too cliché.

As it turns out, Manti Te’o’s girlfriend was not real; in fact, the “girlfriend” might had been a boy. Many people are now “vaguely enraged” (phrase borrowed from Kolsterman in his letters to Gladwell) because they ended up on the receiving end of the “just kidding” story of the year.

As of right now, nobody knows whether Te’o was involved in this not-so-malicious hoax. In fact, I made a meme for the occasion!

(I actually think it is also incredibly stupid for trying to dupe everyone, but the meme works out better this way)

So why do we care so much about this?

Gladwell, in his letters back to Kolsterman, described this sentiment very adequately:

Earlier this fall, I read many stories about how Kansas State quarterback Collin Klein didn’t even kiss his wife until they were both on the marriage altar. The public reaction was pretty much, “That’s strange, but I guess that’s nice.” It was just a little romantic detail that was widely believed, despite its superficial implausibility. Nobody thought that much about it (and — as far as I can tell — it’s completely true). But imagine if this had been proved to be a conscious fabrication. People would suddenly be outraged that Klein had lied about something they’d never previously cared about.

And I full-heartedly agree. I think there is even a bit more as to why many people are angry – because we really believed the story.

We believed the story because we love them. We love it when a basketball star overcomes sickness to hit the game winning shot, we love it when a squirrel rallies a team from behind to win the championship, we love it when an Asian basketball player defies underdog status and racial prejudice, and we love it when a football player leads his team to prominence after the tragic death of his girlfriend.

We also believe it because the media is powerful. It is our only way of finding out the “truth” short of going to South Bend ourselves and searching through Te’o’s internet history (oh wait, the media basically did that for us).

Because we believed in this story, we feel betrayed when we find out that it’s not true. This reminds me of a Barney quote from How I Met Your Mother: “People like being lied to. They just don’t like finding out they’ve been lied to.” How mad will we be if we find out that Michael Jordon wasn’t sick at all that game? Or that the squirrel was released on purpose to boost popularity? Or that Jeremy Lin is…um…not Asian?

It’s pretty crazy how much controversy a college football player can stir up nowadays, but really, why is this a big deal? Te’o is just a college student playing for his school. We shouldn’t even be paying that much attention to his personal life in the first place. Why are we giving SO much publicity to him? So what he was dumb and fell in love with a “girl” through texts and Twitter? Even if he did lie, is it worth broadcasting on national news over and over? Whatever Te’o did or did not do, it is better than Armstrong lying about doping, or Reggie Bush taking illegal benefits, or the Saints’ bounty program, or all the DUI and domestic violence stories we read on ESPN.

There aren’t any direct victims here, in fact, about $3,000 were raised for leukemia research in the girlfriend’s name. While it is not ethical to lie (if Te’o did lie), it certainly isn’t ethical either to construct this righteous image of a college football star and tear it apart in front of a national audience. The one thing we can be sure of is that the media is the winner. If there is a story that the media loves more than “new found strength due to death of a close one,” it is the fall of a hero.

Why is it that young adults have to give up their privacy when they choose to play for a popular sport in college? Or that they are assumed to be either flawless or dirty liars? These would not be issues if we just treat the athletes as who they are: college students playing sports. The Te’o hoax is funny and bizarre, but it really doesn’t mean much. We are mad because we bought into the system and it failed us, and if we zoom out to the bigger picture, that is exactly why being sports fans can be so devastatingly heartbreaking, so shouldn’t we be used to it by now?

Players being warned. (Photo credit: Reuters)

For those who don’t know, and that may be a lot of you given NBC’s atrocious coverage, eight badminton players were kicked out of the Olympics for “match-fixing.” It did not involve bribery or anything of that nature, and the players did everything that is within the rules, but they did try to lose on purpose to get the seeding they wanted (video here).

Unless I am mistaken, it is allowed to suck in sports (please look no further than the school eight miles down*), and as for intentionally sucking? People do it all the time.

Every year right before the massive sixteen teams playoff, there are NBA teams that wonder whether losing on purpose would give them an edge in seeding**. Professional teams in the NBA, NFL, and MLB all rest starters after realizing they are playoff-bound, and from a more personal experience, I once “guarded” Brian Zoubek in a game of basketball, and I am pretty sure he intentionally sucked to make me feel better because at one point, I somehow ended up with the ball.

In the Olympics, favored swimmers never go all out in the preliminary heat to save energy, and in this year’s Tour de France, Wiggins slowed himself down to let his teammate win a stage in the technically individual event.

Of course, there are other “negative tanking” examples in this year’s Olympics: Makhloufi from Algeria, who claimed he was hurt during an 800 meter heat, used his fresh hurt legs the next day to blow away the field in the 1500 run. He was originally expelled from the Olympics, but fortunately for him, he was able to find one doctor that says he knee was hurting. Also, the Japanese women’s soccer coach openly admitted that he instructed his team to tie South Africa so they can play in a more favorable location.

Some of these are considered acceptable (Wiggins was actually praised, and I appreciate Zoubek for letting me touch the ball), and some, not so much. So why are people so angry with these badminton players? And Makhloufi?

Because they took intentional losing to a whole new level? Because the fans who paid to go did not get to see what they wanted? Because it violated the sacred Olympics spirit? Because it was unethical?

They were just trying to win the gold medal while staying within the rules. Yeah, it was ugly, but the Chinese didn’t want to play the only other Chinese group so they can both medal, which is usually the case when it comes to badminton. As for Makholoufi, he just wanted to make sure he brings back the fifth gold medal in Algeria history. It wasn’t within the Olympics spirit, but it didn’t warrant being kicked out of the competition, it certainly wasn’t as offensive as the tweets (see here and here).

It can probably be argued that the badminton players had an obligation to make sure the fans get what they wanted, but by the same logic, they also have the same obligation to their country to try their best to win the gold. Yes, sports are all about trying your best in the events, but they are also about using strategies (AKA, smart ways to win within the rules).

So was it ethical for the badminton players to throw away matches like that? Probably not, but I also don’t think what they did was so unethical that they deserved to be expelled from the Olympics. Though I do think Makholoufi should get kicked out for lying, I do not think he should had been expelled in the first place for stopping in the race.

People may disagree, but we can all at least agree that NBC really should do better.

*just kidding, Tar Heels, looking forward to another great rivalry year

** losing on purpose in basketball would be really comical if both teams tried – imagine flipping the court and many, many, fouls. I wonder which team would be the best at losing.

Image Credit: Fox Sports

Tim Tebow.

I’m sure starting this piece of writing with his name just ensured many people’s attention. After all, his overtime victory over the Steelers (I repeat, the Steelers!) blew America away. His unconventional style of play and his “shove-Christianity-in-your-face” attitude has won him just as many lovers as critics. One thing that is for sure: he is becoming a household name. In fact, I have just added the word “Tebow” to my Microsoft Word dictionary.

High school students have been suspended for “Tebowing,” Pro-Choice supporters have started a fundraiser that encourages $10 donations for every Tebow touchdown, and, since it’s 2012, Rick Perry has compared himself to Tebow in Iowa (did Tebow forget the third part of the Holy Trinity? I don’t think so. Bad comparison Governor Perry).

As the Tebow-mania becomes hotter and hotter, a topic starts to emerge: What if Tebow was Muslim?

Well first of all, some logistics: Would he be okay playing for the New Orleans Saints? And he sure can’t do Hail Marys anymore. Nor would he enjoy playing here at University of Notre Dame.

But all that aside, what will America think of him?

Sandra Fish from the Washington Post does not seem to think that it would bode well for the Christian poster boy and Engel from Fox News brings up a completely different spin, stating that Tebow would be respected, and that “all hell would break loose” (at least the Christian and Muslim hells I’m sure) if Muslim Tebow’s religious touchdown celebrations were mocked by the players (as Christian Tebow’s prayers often have been).

I agree with Engel that mocking anybody’s demonstration of faith is not a good gesture and yes, the reaction might be much more serious if the Muslim Tebow celebration were mocked. And like Fish, I do not think America would like Tebow as much if he started all his interviews with “Praise Allah.” Feel free to call me out, but for some reason, I just don’t think Tebow would simply receive just some eye rolls or thunderous cheers if after every touchdown, he pulls out his prayer mat and bows towards Mecca (it certainly won’t be an excessive celebration penalty according to NFL rules).

I think there’s something wrong about this. As a society that puts emphasis on freedom of expression and freedom of worship above everything else, why is it that our views on a person can change solely based on his/her religion, especially when the religion praises good values like all other major religions in the world? Just look at how much President Obama had to go out of his way to show everybody that he is not a Muslim. Perhaps we really do need a Muslim Tebow to come change things up a little bit.

I love college sports.

I love the energy, the passion, and the live-or-die association from the fans. I love the team oriented approach, the strategies, and the varieties of styles. I love the rivalries, the traditions, and the idea that these athletes are just students like us doing what they love.

Actually, I just came back from Tobacco Roadhouse Sports Bar and concluded a full day of college football, and it was nothing short of glorious (minus the devastating Duke loss).

Part of what I love is changing, however, with the recent realignments – with teams changing conferences to get better TV deals – and with the increasing number of scandals that has been exposed (illegal benefits offered in big time programs such as Ohio State, UNC, Miami, USC, etc). Though there is not much we can do about the first problem, there has been more and more talk on solving the latter problem by paying the student athletes. The proponents of this idea argue that by paying the athletes, we not only eliminate these scandals, we are treating the student athletes more ethically by giving them back some of the money they earned for their institutions. They ask why we as a society should ask the student athletes to not care about money when the schools itself are doing everything possible to secure a better TV deal. They question the ethics in the decisions of NCAA/NBA/NFL to block young people’s chance to make money for themselves and their families when many come from disadvantaged backgrounds. Furthermore, this party argues that by providing money incentives, college athletes are encouraged to stay in school instead of making a mockery of college education by bolting for professional sports early.

And I have big problems with that.

Starting with the logistics, the most obvious question that begs answers is who should get paid? Should field hockey players get paid? Or should only revenue generating sports pay their players? Should only revenue generating programs pay their players then? If so, wouldn’t the good recruits only go to revenue generating schools? Who makes all these decisions and how should they make them? Moving away from logistics, I am going to argue that the universities are making a bigger mockery of college education by paying “students” for their excellence on the field or court instead of academic excellence. By paying these “students,” the universities are essentially hiring athletes for money generating purposes. Fair, many athletes from these revenue generating sports come from disadvantaged backgrounds, but these athletes are getting a discounted if not free education, and perhaps this is just the bias of me being a college student, but I believe that is an unbelievable gift that most disadvantaged teenagers can only dream of and a gift that benefits for a lifetime.

My dad and I were discussing today’s U.S. social mobility during fall break due to Occupy Wall Street, and he mentioned how the most visible social mobility in American society today is the professional athletes. This may be sad but it can be very true. I personally rather hear more stories about, say, Dr. Ben Carson. Education is important, and we should not mock it further by paying athletes to go to school when we rarely as institutions pay college students extra based on merit alone. Besides, this romantic idea of student athletes is what makes college sports so great. So let’s at least try to keep it that way.

*iThink has actually done a discussion on this topic before. And The Atlantic also has a good read on the topic.

For the record, Texas Tech’s football went 8-5 last year.

But who knows? Maybe the man’s family is starving with his measly $1.5 million salary from last year. Don’t worry though, both Coach Tuberville and the athletic director declined to comment when inquired by the press.

The university president Bailey says he is “sympathetic,” but they are keeping a promise they made last year (what a man of his word! but don’t they have contracts for professors to honor as well?).

To expand more on the topic, here’s an interesting video featuring Coach Calhoun, the head basketball coach of the University of Connecticut, if you haven’t seen it yet:

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xokthY5zuPU]

He did bring up a good point though: the UConn basketball program does bring in lots of revenue and I’m sure, good images for the university. But should an academic institution really decide that an athletic program is worth more for the university? What message does that send to its students? Who gets to decide that? I’m not a big fan of picking quality of instructions on the field over quality of instructions in classrooms. Besides, who is it to say that a presentation made by a professor in an academia conference is less important than a win on a football field, and how do you measure that? Yes, athletic programs generate much more money for the university, but a university is not a for-profit, and I’m sure the majority of the profit generated doesn’t go to academic programs but stay in the athletic departments.

So should the university honor Tuberville’s contract? Is it unethical for Tuberville to accept the raise? Should we really take this kind of utilitarianism approach when it comes to deciding where funding goes in a university?

Here are two links that have some stats about average college professor and football coach salaries.

P.S. For those wondering what my “sports loyalty bias” is, I am a die-hard Duke and Auburn fan (my school and my hometown), who I am happy and proud to say are the reigning champions in men’s basketball and football. I know I have some questions to answer as well, and I am very well aware of the fact that Tommy Tuberville coached my beloved Auburn football team just three years ago.

First, I’ll set aside all jabs about Duke’s athletic superiority over that of the Jayhawks. Now, let us break down where two ethical questions may arise: one, should these athletes be tracked and two, why do the trackers have to be elderly people?

When I think of college, I think not of more rigorous academics, learning to live with another person, or consuming disgusting amounts of pizza: I think of freedom. Included in my freedom is the choice to attend – or not attend – class. By hiring trackers to check up on these athletes’ attendance, KU is eliminating a fundamental component of the college experience. Should they stigmatize these students on the basis that they are athletes? They forfeit many freedoms when becoming a student athlete, should the liberty to skip class and catch up on sleep every now and then be one of the opportunities forgone?

The plight of student-athletes and their ‘special treatment’ is not as fascinating as my next point: what’s interesting is that KU has set up a game of cat and mouse where the cat happens to have arthritis and the mouse happens to be one of our nation’s top athletes. The decision to hire seniors – as opposed to any other demographic – does logically make sense: the athletes do not easily manipulate them. Sixty-plus years have apparently calloused them from the temptation of free tickets, autographs, etc. Moreover, in theory young people will feel the need to be more morally upstanding when around elders (you steal from your mom’s cookie jar, not your grandmother’s).

Regardless, I maintain that it is awkward – athlete or not – to have a gray-haired man peeping in your class periodically. Also, to what degree does the age of the trackers transform the attendance game into a joke to the athletes? The article illustrates some of the tricks that the athletes pull in attempts to cut class either altogether or to take off shortly after being accounted for. Would they try to slip away if they weren’t dubious about the trackers’ sight and hearing capabilities, issues some of the trackers say make their task more difficult?

I find the program a little too absurd for comfort. Added to the list of reasons why I’m happy to be a Blue Devil: Kyrie Irving can get himself to our Psychology lecture without a senior citizen spying on our class.