A slightly raised Stage was centered at the front of the room, a blackboard on the wall behind Maisy Andrus. She looked at her notes on the podium, then looked at us and said, "Welcome to the special session course, Ethics and Society."
Andrus came down off the stage and began moving around the room, a trial attorney opening to the jury. She was even more imposing at floor level. Nearly six feet tall in one-inch heels, she had auburn hair swept up from her ears and back behind her neck. sprigs of gray here and there. The face was boxy but attractive. Germanic or Scandinavian in cast.
Andrus wore a yellow sweater-dress gathered loosely by a teal sash at the waist, the hem riding a bit above her knees. She spoke about the required text, office hours, and other housekeeping details of the course. Her manner reminded me of a black Special Forces captain in basic training who ran the TTIS, the Tactical Training of the Individual Soldier, the most miserable obstacle course I ever experienced.
"… and regarding class hours, your attendance and punctuality are not just expected, they are required. Sufficiently severe absence, especially in a four-week course such as this one, will be grounds for barring you from the examination. Effective class participation can raise your grade. Ineffective, incompetent participation can have the opposite effect. Effective participation requires preparation of the written materials assigned for discussion as though you were the lead counsel litigating that case. You by now have the expectation of being treated like the budding lawyers you are. Appreciate that I will hold you to the standard such professionals are expected to attain and maintain."
Every head, male and female, followed Andrus. Each student had a notebook open and a pen or pencil in hand, but nobody took notes. No one even smiled or jabbed a neighbor in the ribs. All were focused on her.
A blocky man in a continental suit and old-fashioned pompadour had come into 205 with Andrus. Pompadour sat, arms folded and feet flat on the floor, watching her with the rest of us. Just occasionally he glanced over at me, seeming not to care if I noticed him doing it. I bet myself that Pompadour was the house servant Alec Bacall had called Manolo. If so, Manolo was acting very much like a bodyguard.
"… and now, a little warm-up for tomorrow's session." Andrus swung her head once in an arc of the room, then pointed to a gawky kid with blond hair. "Male student in the maroon shirt. Stand, please."
I'd never seen this before. The kid got to his feet.
"Your name?"
"Uh, Dave."
"Your last name."
"Oh, uh, Zimmer."
"Mr. Zimmer, do you believe in the use of torture to extract information from someone under governmental control?"
Zimmer blinked.
"Mr. Zimmer?"
"Could you repeat – "
"It's a rather simple question, Mr. Zimmer. Torture, yes or no'?"
"No. Uh, no, I don't believe in that."
"Why not?"
"Why?"
"W-h-y. Why don't you believe in it?"
"Well, because… it's not right."
"Why isn't it right?"
Zimmer took a quick look around the room. No volunteer sent up a hand to take the heat off him, and I sensed that none would.
"Mr. Zimmer. Today, please'?"
"Because it's an invasion of the right of a citizen."
"The right not to be tortured by one's own government?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Why is that an invasion?"
"Yes."
Zimmer seemed to rally a little. "Because the government's supposed to exist to defend a citizen from invasion of his rights, not to do – "
"His or her, Mr. Zimmer."
"Excuse me?"
"In this class, if you refer to a person who hasn't been identified as a man or woman, you will use 'he or she,' 'his or her.' In the real world, you must not run the risk of offending your audience. This is especially important if the 'person' involved is a client or an authority figure in the system, like a judge. Now, Mr. Zimmer, please restate your point."
Zimmer inhaled. "The government's job is to protect a citizen's rights, not to invade his or her rights itself."
"And, ultimately, why is that, Mr. Zimmer?"
"Why…?"
"Why is it that government is to defend its citizens from invasion of their rights?"
"Because everybody has the right to life."
"I see." Andrus turned and pointed to a brunette woman who had squirreled herself in the farthest corner of the room. "Female student, pink blouse. Stand, please."
Rising, the woman knocked her notebook askew, the pen rolling off the page and down onto the floor in front of her table.
"Your name, please'?"
The woman seemed to speak to her departed pen. "Queenan."
Andrus cupped a hand to her ear and said, "I can't hear you."
The woman lifted her head and boomed a little. "My name is Queenan."
Andrus nodded. "Ms. Queenan, do you agree or disagree with Mr. Zimmer's position?"
Hopelessly, Queenan looked at Zimmer, who had folded his hands in a fig-leaf pose of prayer.
"Ms. Queenan?"
"I agree that a government shouldn't use torture on its citizens."
"Just its 'citizens,' Ms. Queenan'?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Your rule of no torture would apply only to protect the citizens of the country involved, not visiting tourists or resident aliens?"
"No. I mean, yes, the government shouldn't use torture on anyone."
"On anyone. Mr. Zimmer, agree or disagree."
"Uh, I agree."
"Because you hold human life of any citizenship sacred, correct?"
"Correct."
"Ms. Queenan?"
"Right. I mean, I agree with that."
"Is that a pretty basic principle for you, Ms. Queenan'?"
"Basic?"
"Yes, basic. Bedrock belief. The sanctity of human life above all else."
"Well, yes, I guess so."
"You guess so."
"I mean, yes. Definitely."
"Definitely. Mr. Zimmer, definitely for you also?"
"Yes."
"Very well, then. Mr. Zimmer, a deranged man has kidnapped a four-year-old girl from outside a day care center. He has placed her in a homemade coffin, with only a limited air supply. By great luck, someone saw the man near the center, and the police have arrested him. There is no doubt the man in custody is the kidnapper. He even boasts that the girl has only three hours of air remaining. You are the highest-ranking police officer available, Mr. Zimmer. Do you authorize torture to extract from the man the location of the girl in the coffin'?"
Zimmer looked at Queenan, but she was staring at her notebook as though it were the Holy Grail.
"Mr. Zimmer, yes or no?"
"No. I'd have my cops search his house and all first."
"Excellent idea, Mr. Zimmer. Ms. Queenan. same hypothetical, only now you are the police commander and the search has come up empty. Any other suggestions. or is it torture?"
"No." Queenan seemed to spark a little, even copying the rhythm of Andrus' speech pattern. "No, it's never torture."
"Never."
"That's right."
"You'd never break your rule of no torture."
"That's right."
"And why is that, again?"
"Because human life is sacred."
"All human life."
"Yes."
"Including the little girl's?"
Queenan pondered that.
"Ms. Queenan?"
Zimmer spoke. "That's not fair."
Andrus turned on him, but more excited than angry. "What's not fair, Mr. Zimmer?"
"You're putting her in an impossible position."
"Am I?"
"Yes. You're asking her to sacrifice her principle."
"No, I'm not. I've been asking Ms. Queenan, and you, if you agree with a given rule of society, and then I've been asking you about the ethic you have that drives that rule, that justifies it. Both of you seem to think that the no-torture rule makes sense, and both apparently for the same ethical reason, the sanctity of human life. Now I'm just asking Ms. Queenan a simple question. Ms. Queenan, how about it? Is the kidnapper's life more important than the little girl's?"