All the world turns on an image
Commentary by ADAM TANOUS
The image most of us have of Laci
Peterson, a woman who disappeared on Christmas Eve and was found murdered months
later, is of her winning smile. A young woman pictured in the joyous flush of
pregnancy, Peterson could not be a more sympathetic victim of a horrible crime.
Much has turned on that photo first provided to the media.
At the time of her disappearance,
Peterson’s family was no doubt called on to make a thousand little decisions
like providing a photo of Laci to the police. Few of those decisions likely had
the effect the choice of that photo had on not only the level of national
exposure of the case, but also on the subsequent political debate it has
generated.
One might wonder how many women went
missing nationwide the week Peterson disappeared. I would bet there were many. I
would also bet that many of them were ultimately murdered.
The same question could be asked about the
Elizabeth Smart case. No doubt there were many children abducted or missing at
the same time the Utah girl disappeared. But again, there was a compelling
video. It was the short clip of the cute, blonde child playing on the beach.
Instantly she was a fixture on the national news.
In both cases, the overwhelming media
exposure had everything to do with apprehending a suspect. And the overwhelming
media exposure had everything to do with the images of the victims.
The one generalization it is safe to make
about the media is that it exerts tremendous pressure on cases like those of
Peterson and Smart. With that kind of a spotlight on them, police departments
suddenly materialize all sorts of resources. Cases tend to get solved, one way
or another, when everybody is watching.
Which brings us back to the image.
Everything hinges on it. If the victim of a terrible crime is a made-for-TV
victim—attractive, white, young, or compelling in some other way like being
pregnant—that case is going to end up on the evening news. The point is not to
begrudge the exposure those families get for their cases, but rather to realize
there are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of victims less compelling for the TV market
who are out there missing or dead. Our justice system does its best to apply
itself fairly across the spectrum of the population, but the fact remains there
are dramatic inequities created by other forces such as evening news editors.
These editors are constantly looking for compelling narratives and images—like
Peterson and Smart—to reflect a broader picture of America. Decisions by
editors, decisions by families as to what photos to provide the police or media,
what the victim looks like all contribute to an element of capriciousness in our
justice system.
Another factor to consider is that more
often than not the compelling victim is used for political purposes. After Smart
was returned to her home, her father pushed legislators for a national child
abduction alert network. Remarkably, an issue that had been hotly debated for
years with no clear consensus emerging, suddenly became law two weeks ago. While
I think the alert system may in fact be a good idea, I’m sure the bill’s
opponents had reasonable arguments that were brushed aside in the frenzy to jump
on the Smart media train. No one seemed to notice or consider that the Utah girl
was found without such a national system, and so the Smart endorsement had no
real probative value to the debate.
Perhaps a more distressing example of
political opportunism is the attempt by anti-abortion groups and the White House
to employ the Peterson tragedy in pushing through a federal statute called the
Unborn Victims of Violence Act. In essence the act would allow a violent crime
against a pregnant woman to be considered as crimes against two people.
At the state level, 26 states, including
Idaho, have adopted similar measures; 24 have not. California has such a measure
and, under it, Scott Peterson has been charged with two murders—those of Laci
and her fetus. The Idaho statute, which went into effect 11 months ago, defines
murder as "the unlawful killing of a human being including, but not limited to,
a human embryo or fetus." The law does not apply to individuals who obtain or
provide elective abortions.
Why should anyone care?
Because it is a fairly transparent effort
to get at a woman’s right to an abortion. If a fetus can be considered a victim
of a crime, independently of the mother carrying it, then logically it must have
certain, independent legal rights, whether or not the fetus is viable outside
the womb. Viability outside the womb is, of course, the legal standard the
Supreme Court established in the 1973 Roe v. Wade decision. The court ruled that
a woman has a constitutional right to an abortion before the fetus is viable
outside the womb.
The Idaho law was initiated and supported
by Idaho Chooses Life, an antiabortion group. David Ripley, executive director
of the group, said at the time in the Kaiser Daily Reproductive Health Report
the statute "bolsters the antiabortion movement’s argument against … Roe v. Wade
by creat(ing) legal tension within the court structure" regarding fetal
personhood … It would be a huge victory" if antiabortion groups were able to
"use fetal homicide laws to overturn Roe v. Wade."
The debate about abortion will likely
never end, because the fundamental hurdle to coming to an amicable consensus on
abortion is a conceptual one. The status of a fetus and its mother at any given
point in time cannot be readily defined. Is it a fetus or a person at week 12?
Is it an independent being at week 30? Where does the fetus end and the mother
begin? The answers to those questions may be philosophical, biological, or both,
and certainly are not universal.
One way out of this conundrum is to think
of a fetus as both a life and a non-life, something that is in two coexisting
states. Coexisting states are not something we are comfortable with—we crave
definition. It is analogous to the debate over quantum mechanics at the
beginning of the 20th century. How could matter be both a wave and a
particle? How could an electron zinging around a proton be at two places
simultaneously?
It took revolutionary thinking to cross
the span between classical mechanics and quantum mechanics, which we now know to
be the truer model. No less will be required to move beyond the abortion chasm
before us.