Thursday, April 18, 2013

Psst: Have You Heard About the Allegedly Anonymous Rumor?


Dear Philip:
There’s a rumor going around town that –

Let’s stop.  Let’s stop right there.  Though the phrasing has varied, several folks over the last few months have sent emails starting with some version of, “Allegedly, (neighbor/town official/guy I don’t like) has been (lying/cheating/stealing/being downright rude), and I know it’s true because I talked to someone who knows someone, and it needs to be stopped!”
There’s the person in power who’s been bullying a subordinate to bend the rules for a friend.  There’s the neighbor with an official “in” that gets her kid out of all kinds of serious jams.  There are scores to be settled and justice to be brought, and all the letters describing these situations are different except in the most basic sense:
The writers want someone else to fix things.  Things they’re not even sure are happening.
Sometimes they believe I can do it, by answering their letter directly in a way that will “out” the wrongdoer.  Sometimes I think they just want me to pass along whatever they’re upset about to the paper I write for, in the hopes reporters will investigate; which will result in righteous firings, public humiliation, and a return to moral order, alleluia, amen.  Mostly, I suspect these folks have been watching too much television.
Things don’t often get solved because someone thrice removed from the situation makes an anonymous complaint.  When solutions are found, it’s usually because the people involved avoided shortcuts or fantasies that someone else would magically, quietly make it all better.



A friend once phoned to tell me about a young public school teacher who got a call from a member of her local Board of Ed, asking that she “reconsider” a grade she’d given a student who was looking to go to school on an athletic scholarship.  The Board member – somehow related to the student’s parents – didn’t get what she wanted, and then leaned on the student’s coach to lean on the teacher.  Eventually, the story went, the coach got strong-armed by the town’s Superintendent of Schools.
That’s what my friend had heard, anyway, and based on the rumors, she was loaded for bear.  “This stuff goes on all the time!” she assured me.  I listened, and then asked her four questions: Did she have first-hand knowledge of any of this?  Did she hear that either the teacher or coach had been fired, or threatened with firing?  Was the kid’s grade changed? Finally, what did she think should happen?  She answered the first three with a simple “no,” and to the third she said, “Well, someone needs to be told!  This has to stop!”
And I agreed: the person who had to be told, if the story was in fact true, was the direct boss of the teacher and the coach.  The principal.  The inappropriate phone calls would have then been a matter of record, and if either of their jobs subsequently became threatened, the teacher and the coach would have had grounds for juicy lawsuits.  If the principal wasn’t willing to help, they should have gone to his or her boss, and so on.  It’s how the process works.
The problem with anonymous vigilantism is that it tends to be all heat and very little light: in my friend’s little town (and here, too, judging by my inbox) there are more than a few angry people who aren’t exactly knowledgeable about the source of their anger.  That’s a recipe for unfairly damaged reputations and rampant cynicism…
…and ill-advised letters to your faithful advice columnist, who would really rather help you figure out how to deal with your pesky mother-in-law.