Joe Paterno, the long-time head football coach at Pennsylvanian State University, died this morning; he was 85.
Coach Paterno’s legacy should be one of greatness: he won more games in Division I College Football than anyone in history. He coached at Penn State for 62 years, the lass 44 as head coach. This article is not a eulogy for a great coach; I leave that to Jack McCallum, whose article you can read here.
Coach Paterno went out on a sour note, because of a decision he didn’t take: when told of a locker room incident involving a former assistant coach, Jerry Sandusky, and a boy the witness, assistant coach Michael McQueary, described as looking around ten years of age, an incident Mr McQueary said he told Coach Paterno was a rape, and which Mr Paterno says he heard as inappropriate touching — and only they know what was really said — JoePa didn’t go to the police, but to his supervisor.
What Coach Paterno did was consistent with the law in Pennsylvania, but it wasn’t consistent with the law of public opinion, and the Penn State Board of Trustees fired him. Joe Paterno’s legacy will always be tarnished by a decision which didn’t involve football at all. If someone had asked Coach Paterno, before he had ever heard the first thing about his close friend’s alleged sexual perversion, whether he would report anybody he caught raping a child to the police, he would have said, “Of course, I would!”
And if someone had asked Francesco Schettino, captain of the cruise ship Costa Concordia, whether he would flee his ship and passengers and crew in a time of danger, he would have said, “Of course not!” In fact, he did say just that, in an interview with a Czech travel writer with the wonderful name of Dana Emingerova, in December 2010. From the Mirror:

Francesco Schettino, Captain of the Costa Concordia, with Czech travel writer Dana Emingerova, December, 2010
Costa Concordia captain: I wouldn’t have wanted to be in charge of the Titanic
Francesco Schettino, 52, nicknamed “Captain Coward” for abandoning his passengers, also hinted at a selfish side as he laid bare the philosophy he lives by.
“I like to make people happy,” he said. “But at the same time I realise that every person lives in this world by himself alone and dies by himself. That’s why everyone goes his own way.
“I wouldn’t like to have been in the position of the captain of the Titanic, who navigated the ship through a sea full of icebergs.
“Nowadays the important decisions are made by more people to help the captain, so he doesn’t carry all of the decisions. But the final word is always given by the captain.” . . .
In the interview he said he felt immune from tragedy at sea. “With good preparation you can deal with every situation and avoid possible problems,” he said.
“The safety of our passengers is our highest goal. I have never been in a dangerous situation I haven’t managed. It is essential to be prepared for everything.”
But he said he would enjoy the challenge of a potential disaster.
“I like moments when something unpredictable happens, something that kicks you off the standard procedure. It is a challenge which entertains me,” he explained.
In words that may come back to haunt him, he told writer Dana: “Today everything is safer than it was in the past and we are better prepared… the navigation is more simple, we have perfect technical equipment. When a failure or defect happens, it isn’t as fatal as it used to be.”
Boasting of running his ship like a sergeant-major, he went on: “Because of safety on board it is run with almost a military discipline. The demands on the people on board are high.
“I get up each day at 5 or 6am. When the weather is bad I don’t sleep because as the captain I have to be on the captain’s bridge.
“When a situation more serious occurs, the captain has to have everything under his control.”
Would it ever have entered his mind that, faced with a real crisis, he would abandon his ship and crew and passengers to their fates? Probably not. But the captain who didn’t go down with his ship, being excoriated across the world as a coward, the man who gave the wholly lame, and universally unbelieved excuse that he tripped into a lifeboat, never really knew, never faced that decision before; when he was, suddenly his life and his safety became more important than his duty.
The vast majority of us have all taken decisions, in advance, the consequences of which we never had to face. Bernard Cardinal Law took decisions he probably never expected he would, protecting a sexually abusive priest rather than reporting him to the law, not because he didn’t care for the victims, but because, when the situation arose, he found protecting his friends and the Church more important. Coach Paterno probably never anticipated that, if he had ever been asked if he would report such a rape to the authorities, that the rapist involved would be his close friend. How many of us have said, to ourselves and our friends, “I’d rather be dead than a paraplegic,” or something along those lines? That is an easy thing to say, when the consequence of such a statement is not a decision to commit suicide; among people who really are significantly handicapped, the suicide rate is higher than the general population, but the vast majority of paraplegics do not kill themselves. Faced with the type of decision that so many of us talk about, the decisions taken by the handicapped are very different from what people think they would, or should, be.
How would I react if I were a soldier, and found myself in combat? I can say now, unhesitatingly, that I would do my duty with courage. But I have never been a soldier, never been in combat, and once the bullets started flying, once having to be brave in combat actually faced me, it’s possible that I would cower under cover, or flee. If someone asked me if I would turn in a man I discovered to be sexually abusing a child or had robbed a bank or had sold drugs, my answer would be an unquestioned, “Of course, I would.” But if I discovered that my best friend had been sexually abusing a child, or that my daughter has robbed a bank, or than my sister had been selling drugs, such a decision would send my best friend or my daughter or my sister to prison. Could I do it then, would I do it then?
If I decided, heck, I can’t send my best friend to jail as a pedophile; I’ll talk to him, and try to get him some help, so he doesn’t do this again, I would be responsible for that decision. And so the late Coach Paterno was responsible, even though he did act precisely in compliance with the law. Such decisions have consequences, and even though Mr Paterno’s decision was completely legal, it wasn’t one which could stand public scrutiny, and he paid for it with being fired from the position he loved, from the school he loved. We all bear the responsibility for our own decisions. Perhaps we can understand why some people wind up taking decisions we see as baffling, due to their circumstances, but the responsibility for those decisions remains.