“And I’m a human being. I’m a man just like everybody else. I
mourn, I cry, just like everybody else.”

–Kobe Bryant

July 18, 2003

And, just like everybody else, Kobe Bryant is a member of the
only known species with the capacity to know what might be
problematic about a famous, married athlete choosing to have sex
with a teenage concierge worker. Bryant is part of the only known
species for whom ethics is intelligible; for whom right and wrong
have meaning. Responding to his sexual excursion with something
along the lines of “I’m only human” only makes his act worse: it
means he shut down the very thing–his conscience–that makes man
different from beast.

Committing adultery (never mind the more serious charge of rape)
means that one gave into the appetite of lust. Man sees woman, man
and woman get turned on, man (in Bryant’s case) commits adultery.
Simple chain of events. But what about that chain of events is
different from what happens in the jungle?

Animals are partly distinguished by their instinctual and,
unless trained otherwise, perpetual obedience to their appetites.
Kobe Bryant’s foolishness was not, therefore, the result of being
“just a man” or “only human” but instead resulted because he, like
all other homo sapiens, especially our 42nd president, among
others,is part animal.

To be human means to have rationality, conscience, judgement. It
means the ability to restrain the force of instinct, however strong
the pull. When humans indulge their appetites and shun the sobering
thoughts produced by the exercise of reason–that is when we are
least human; that is when we are most like the creatures who stare
at us blankly from behind the cages of the local zoo.

It doesn’t mean that we must become computers, mere processors
of information. It doesn’t mean we strive to be some bizarre type
of creature that doesn’t feel–and feel deeply–love, sadness,
happiness, joy, fear, shame, and compassion. And it doesn’t mean we
are never entitled to make mistakes–big, huge, irreparable
mistakes.

It means, rather, that we are endowed with the ability to feel
and do all these things in moderation: at the appropriate time, in
the appropriate place, under the right circumstances. Finding this
moderation, finding this mean, as Aristotle said, is what
constitutes the virtuous life. And it is this, not adultery, that
distinguishes us as men, as women, as human beings.

The human mind, when confronted with a great wall of shame,
performs a variety of linguistic gymnastics in the hope of finding
that one mighty phrase that will catapult one’s self over the
scrutiny. The “I’m just a man” line carries with it the implication
that you too, you other humans out there watching that wounded soul
at the hastily called press conference, are just as susceptible.
You too, being a mere human, could find yourself in a hotel in
Vail, Colo., the night before surgery, breaking the Seventh
Commandment and undergoing a false accusation of rape. And if it
could be you or me sitting on the podium, would we not want someone
to show us some compassion, some forgiveness, some benefit of the
doubt?

Of course. But then, at this point, we have begun to
rationalize. Once we have firmly placed ourselves in Bryant’s
position, we are frightened to make any judgments about him that we
would not want on ourselves. In short, we have begun to
rationalize.

But perhaps we should keep in mind Ayn Rand’s warning that
rationalization is the root of evil. Perhaps we should reconsider
what “I’m just a man” means, and whether Kobe Bryant’s definition
is something we are willing to live with.

Matt Emerson is a senior studying philosophy and political
science.