Monday, February 9, 2009

Michael Phelps and Ambivalence: The Public Paradox

Michael Phelps, the most decorated Olympian from any single staging of the games, was recently photographed hitting a bong at a frat party. In the days of steroids and other performance enhancing drugs having taken center stage in the world of sports, the Ricky Williams and Rex Huddlers of that world have taken a backseat. Well, given the brightness of Phelps’ star since his amazing performance at the 2008 summer games, it’s pretty difficult to ignore marijuana’s prevalence in culture, both in sports and outside, at this point.

Recently Chuck Culpepper published a brilliant article in the LA Times deconstructing the issues at hand in terms of Phelps relative guilt in the eyes of Americans. While I will be focusing more on people’s actual reactions from here on out, there are still a number of pieces of speculation in Culpepper’s article which prove invaluable to an informed discussion on that topic. But for the moment, the question remains: have the public and professional reactions to Phelps’ behavior been appropriate?

As Culpepper points out in his article, marijuana is a very prevalent drug in sports, appearing “this week in the suitcase of an arrested college basketball point guard at an airport, and this winter in the possession of a former Dallas receiver, and a Seattle linebacker, and a Florida State receiver, and a retired NBA forward/center, and amid a Japanese sumo wrestling scandal if you can believe such, and in November with a New York Jets defensive end, and last spring in that bellwether moment on talk radio, when Dallas Mavericks forward Josh Howard readily said he enjoyed an inhale.”

This raises two questions: 1) how prevalent is marijuana use on the whole, and 2) what does this do to the traditional perception of marijuana’s mutual incompatibility with physical and intellectual skill? For those who have even casually indulged, or have been around those who do, the answers are fairly simple: 1) very, and 2) it doesn’t change perception much, because only the incredibly ill-informed actually believe in that mutual exclusion. However, except for the most unabashed drug users, would anyone really feel comfortable with someone of the stature of Phelps making no attempt to hide, or perhaps even flaunting, such behavior?

Just under a year ago, Arizona Cardinals quarterback Matt Leinart hosted a party at his Chanlder, AZ home comprised mostly of students from Arizona State University, some under 21. Now while Leinart did provide alcohol to underage kids, this would seem less of a perceptual big deal than being caught smoking marijuana. Leinart wasn’t that far removed from college himself, and underage drinking isn't exactly a rare occurrence at ASU. However, after pictures of the incident leaked out onto the internet depicting him, among other things, holding a beer bong for one of the partygoers, it ended up costing Leinart his chance at the Cardinals’ starting QB position, with coach Ken Wisenhunt deriding his lack of leadership.

Now of course that move allowed Kurt Warner a clear path to the starting job, and that seems to have worked out alright for Arizona. But the question remains, did Leinart deserve to have all of the hard work he had done erased simply because of one poorly conceived party? And while I am sorry to disappoint, this is something I’m not going to take an opinion on, but it does provide a precedent for the Phelps case.

While I don’t know if Leinart's actions deserved to cost him an athletic opportunity, I do think it is a worse infraction than Phelps’. Both cases turned out to be well publicized, with pictoral evidence to match. Both cases fail the ‘role model’ litmus test, an issue I will return to. But the difference between them is that while ultimately Phelps’ actions can hurt only himself, providing alcohol to a mass of minors is a much more dangerous proposition.

All that being said, publicly, both cases played out exactly as they should have. I don’t know how an incident such as Leinart’s affects the inner workings an NFL clubhouse, but, as an employee under contract -- one who has the burden of being a public figure -- it is clear that he is held to a standard of conduct that most people are not, and his coach has the right to make whatever decision he feels is best for the team. As for Phelps, one of his sponsors, Kellogs, has already dropped him, citing that smoking a bong is not consistent with their image. And while there are probably people out there with the munchies reaching for that box of cereal who would beg to differ, the fact is Kellogs made a business decision well within their legal rights.

Neither of these cases, of course, are so cut and dry. Each one has their own nuances that make them a unique scenario. However, in terms of public perception, they are lumped into the category of ‘athletes behaving badly.’ So in terms of public perception, complex, multi-faceted answers simply aren’t an option. What exactly is the US Olympic Committee supposed to say and do regarding this matter? How does anyone deal with the paradox of agreeing that role models should not be seen smoking marijuana because of those role models’ effect on the young and impressionable, while understanding casual use is prevalent and relatively harmless; at least no more so than other, legal, vices?

Culpepper muses that an appropriate response on the part of Phelps’ sponsors might be something like “We realize he's a role model. We don't believe children and adolescents should smoke marijuana. We also realize Phelps is an adult. We recognize that adults often smoke marijuana without being harmed. We also recognize that because he's a role model, we support his attempt not to repeat this.” But of course, this is too straightforward, too honest, and not enough of a soundbite for public consumption.

So, Phelps financial supporters have little choice but to stand behind him or leave him behind, not fool around philosophizing on grey areas. While this incident has shown that public perception of marijuana has moved far beyond the days of Reefer Madness, it has also pointed out that, at least with supposed role models and public entities, people are not ready to accept ambivalence. We can handle it when we learn of the latest evidence against Barry Bonds, because every shred of it makes him more guilty, and it’s comforting to distinguish between right and wrong, guilty and innocent.

What we can’t handle is when there isn’t such an easy answer, when there is no good and evil, no clear right or wrong.

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