Last week, an infant died in a car due to a miscommunication between its two parents, both of whom are physicians.
Sylvester Brown had a column in yesterday’s paper that I was at first inclined to dismiss as a silly playing of the race card but has stayed with me. The point was that the media, law enforcement, and public reaction to stories like this seems to be dependent on the social status of the parents.
Before I get into that, let me address one passage:
We live in a world where “experts” must tell us to place a teddy bear close by while we’re driving to remind us of a child in the back seat. They suggest we stash our cell phones and wallets next to our toddlers. Unlike our children, I suppose, these are essential items we won’t leave behind.
Wow. As a parent, the idea that I would need some sort of ribbon around my finger to remind me that I am completely responsible for the well-being of two mostly helpless human beings is just astonishing. Moving on…
I think our compassion is governed by how much we relate to this statement:
As far as I’m concerned, there is no greater punishment for a parent, any parent, than knowing that your mistake resulted in the death of your own child. I can only imagine the nightmare this Richmond Heights couple and their 5-year-old son will endure after such a monumental loss.
I think we have a much easier time believing that is true for parents whose social status matches our own. For the redneck couple from out in the woods, or the inner city mom, we have a sneaking suspicion that this isn’t the case. (I’m not saying this is a good thing). And since reporters and police officers and prosecutors are from relatively upper social classes, upper class parents get sympathy while lower class parents get the book thrown at them.
Seems like a case of social inequality.
Which reminds me of the discussion (video) Mickey Kaus and Robert Wright were having last week on bloggingheads about whether technology-driven separation is a threat to social equality. It seems to me It can’t help but be one.
If intead of exchanging pleasantries with the store clerk I’m lost in my MP3 player, it seems like it would be easier for me to categorize her as Other, as the type of person who wouldn’t be too upset if she left her baby in a closed car on a hundred degree day. Which would lead to the disparate treatment.
