Being an Active Bystander

BY CLAUDE DUCLOUX

Few activities have given me such joy and satisfaction as entertaining and educating those in my chosen profession with these 28 years of Entre Nous columns. We have found humor together in poking fun at our self-importance and sharing our frustrations with technology, legal process, and annoyances we face daily. Occasionally, important events have given me the opportunity to remind all of us of the legacy that our profession occupies in our most unusual circumstances. The disarray and confusion we find ourselves in as a nation rallies me again to that mission.

We face breathtaking divisions which challenge our professed desire for a “more perfect union.” While we may stumble, we must always be vigilant to the malevolent danger which lurks in abandoning the rule of law. Human history, old and recent, is marred by occasional descent into genocide: tragic periods where innocents are slaughtered in attempts to overcome serious societal issues that often have nothing to do with the victims, who are merely scapegoats. Each time, the societies claim that they “had no idea” what forces led to those horrible events. So, how do you convince one group to lose all sense of reason, conscience, and morality and murder their neighbors, or even turn away when it is happening? Enter Ervin Staub, a Jewish psychologist who narrowly survived the Holocaust in Hungary. Staub has devoted his life to studying the genesis of, and reasons for, these events.

There are common elements. Genocides do not start with one seminal event. Instead societies are slowly groomed in despair. The society almost always is suffering from massive depression, want, fear, and unanswered needs. Incessant toxic messaging often supported by faulty religious justification is a prime influencer. Demeaning insults and caricatures are created to target the group (in Rwanda, the Tutsis were constantly referred to as “cockroaches”). The anger builds slowly until it boils—then violence erupts. Psychologists then say, once you have committed heinous violence, it becomes easier…and finally—the norm.

So, what can a single person do? As it turns out: A LOT. Staub talks about the power of “active bystanders” who call out this hate, who protect others, who admonish demagogues, officials, neighbors, and people engaging in hateful acts. Thousands upon thousands of lives were saved by “bystanders” who would not be dissuaded by the Nazis’ threats if they helped Jews. Same in Chechnya, Rwanda, and Cambodia: One person made a difference.

So, could these lessons apply to our current events, where markers of the same conditions are unavoidable? We are experiencing unprecedented tribalism, adherence to group identities which morph our consciences and reasoning. Entire groups of immigrants are referred to as criminals and murderers. We shed our empathy. We surround ourselves with those who help suppress our better angels. If Staub is right, we’re clearly in dangerous territory.

Yes, we are all in a quandary: The country is divided, the economy under incredible stress. Tens of millions of people have uncertain futures. We are desperate for quick fixes. Moreover, as a society, we are now accustomed and anesthetized to the constant shower of lies filling every news cycle. We have lost that important sense of outrage. Talking heads tell us we have a constitutional right to ignore science, virology, and physics and to choose our own truths. Uncomfortable truths are dismissed as “hoaxes.” Worse, every day we see good people and leaders we admire become complicit and ignore their fiduciary duties to call out these dangerous trends. Rather, we weep as it becomes acceptable to hide behind lies which “don’t affect me.”

What stands between this and our ruination? The law. That’s our beat. That’s our deal. Every lawyer who values the Rule of Law, our sacred pact which promises to handle our disputes with rules and processes, must become an active bystander.

Have we lost that important sense of outrage?

Every single day, the members of the legal profession should have a credo:

• I pledge to make a difference wherever I can.

• I will not spread lies, nor suffer those who do.

• I will do my best to ensure that my actions are based upon the truth.

• I will not tolerate attacks on my neighbors, friends, or my community based upon race, status, or gender issues.

• I will be mindful that my refusal to call out injustice will be seen as complicity.

• I will use my voice and legal talents to assist, educate, and promote the general welfare of my community and country.

• I will not lose hope for this great country, nor empathy for those in need.

We must, above all, act with integrity, and ask ourselves, “How would I like to be remembered on this issue?” Some call that “being on the right side of history.” I call it having a clear conscience.

All of us wish we had all the answers. None of us ever will, but we cannot sacrifice the confidence that society gives us as attorneys and trade it for quick fixes, demonization, and divisive group identities which will always pose a danger to our survival as a nation. As we continue to engage the fight against COVID-19, the longer war we face is the disease of “hoaxicity”—that toxic ability to dismiss truth, decency, and conscience.

Lawyers around the world often risk their lives attacking injustice. But they persist in the belief that there is no other way forward. Now, it is time for us to be brave. Be there for your friends, neighbors, community, and profession as that safety valve Staub calls the “active bystander.” Make your voice heard, and your choices count. I promise, you will sleep better.

And (as always) keep the faith. AL