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(I used to teach the philosophy of rights -- and was appalled at the seeming ignorance regarding inalienable rights exhibited in those hearings.)
To paraphrase Mark Twain, rights are like the weather, everybody talks about them, but nobody gets them quite right.
Nowhere was that more evident than in the Supreme Court hearing on same-sex marriage, when the lawyers and the justices, tied themselves in knots discussing "inalienable rights."
The episode, painful to watch, ended with Ken Starr making the preposterous assertion that inalienable rights could be taken away -- as long as you had a process.
Throughout the hearing, the justices seemed to suggest that in previously acceding to the public’s wishes about capital punishment, the court had somehow allowed voters to do away with the "right to life" of criminals.
Nothing could be further from the truth, and it's appalling to think that the future of Proposition 8 could be decided based on erroneous ideas about rights.
Appalling, but not surprising. In a country where we seem to be talking about rights constantly, most "rights talk" is sloppy. In this case sloppy and dangerous. Rights can be divided into many classifications: legal and moral rights, positive and negative rights, claims, liberties, powers, etc. We need to focus on only two classifications: legal and moral.
Legal rights are granted by the Constitution, the legislature, or the courts. They may coincide with moral rights, but not necessarily. When they do, the legal right recognizes the moral right. It does not create the moral right, and while it can infringe the moral right, it cannot eliminate it.
Legal rights include such things as the right to drive at a certain age, the right to vote, or the right to drink alcohol or to smoke marijuana. These are defined by the people, the legislature, or the courts, and can be changed, expanded, or removed, as Starr said, with the proper procedure.
Moral rights, human rights, or inalienable rights are different. They arise from our status as human beings. They do not come from legislative bodies, courts, or even the voters. They are ours, do not change, and can never be taken away.
They can, however, be infringed. The most dramatic case in our national history was slavery. The slaves had an inalienable right to liberty. Individuals, legislatures, and courts conspired to infringe upon that right. Despite the infringement, despite the lack of a legal right, the moral or inalienable right never went away.
This, in fact, was what made slavery morally reprehensible and a national shame. The slaves had a right to be free. We, as a nation, infringed upon that right. There was the "process" of the type Ken Starr pinned his argument on, but that process never took away the slaves' moral right to liberty. Had it done so, slavery wouldn't have been morally reprehensible. That required the existence of the right.
The same applies with the right not to be killed. During the Prop 8 hearing, the justices kept referring to it as a "right to life," a heavily loaded term that is best avoided. What they were talking about, however, is a component of that -- the right not to be killed.
We all believe that persons enjoy such a right. We also believe that, like liberty, it is an inalienable right. Yet, we still maintain that we are sometimes morally justified in killing people -- whether in war, self defense, or as capital punishment. So, what happens to that inalienable right in those cases?
The common, inaccurate, assumption is that the "right to life is forfeited" or taken away. That, however, complicates the matter and forces people into all sorts of Rube Goldberg-style constructs to work around problems that arise. There is a simpler and more elegant explanation.
Suppose someone is attacking me with a weapon and intends to kill me. I have a gun and, for sake of argument, the only way I can stop my assailant from killing me is by killing him first. Most people would say I am morally and legally allowed to do that. Why? The easiest answer is that by attacking me, he gives me sufficient justification to infringe his right not to be killed. He still retains that right, but I now have the justification to infringe upon it.
Imagine that, while attacking me, he slips and falls, breaks an arm and leg, and his weapon falls into a sewer. He is immobile, writhing on the ground in pain, and I am free to either leave or immobilize him further before calling the police.
What I can't do, from the time at which he no longer is a threat to me, is kill him. This is what creates the problem for the "forfeiting his right to life" argument. They would have to argue that by breaking his arm and leg he somehow suddenly re-acquires a right to life, an inalienable moral right. That makes such rights seem capricious, transient, and arbitrary.
It's easier to argue that what's come and gone is my justification to infringe that right. That justification, always tied to the present circumstances, comes and goes as circumstances change. It is capricious, transient, and arbitrary, because circumstances are.
So, too, with capital punishment. The death sentence does not take away the prisoner's right not to be killed. That right endures. What really happens is that the court decides that the state has sufficient justification -- because of some overriding interest -- to infringe upon the prisoner's inalienable right.
If the prisoner did forfeit his right, or if the court did take it away -- as the justices seemed to think it did -- the prisoner would be fair game for anyone, since he would lack the right not to be killed. We don't believe that. Anyone who killed the prisoner -- other than the proper prison authorities -- would be charged with murder.
Consider cases where the governor intervenes at the last minute to commute the death sentence. If we follow the forfeiting-the-right theory, we're faced with the ludicrous proposition that the governor has the ability to confer inalienable moral rights with a mere phone call.
Governors have many powers. That is not one of them. What's going on is that the governor, as the chief executive, has decided that the state will not exercise its justified infringement of the prisoner's right not to be killed. That is more within the scope of a governor's abilities than conferring inalienable rights.
Thanks to Thomas Jefferson, we can all name, if not define, at least three inalienable rights -- life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But, the declaration says there are more, because it precedes the enumeration with "among these are." Proponents of same-sex marriage make the credible claim that the right to marry the person of your choice falls among those unnamed inalienable rights.
The task facing the court is deciding whether the state or a handful of citizens have sufficient justification to infringe upon that right.
The March 5 hearing was odious in the constant comments linking gays and lesbians with murderers, suggesting they were equivalent as minority groups. Murderers are in their class because of some specific act of theirs. And it is that specific act that provides the putative justification to infringe their right not to be killed.
Gays and lesbians are in their class because of their sexual orientation. What the judges need to decide is whether that orientation, not freely chosen, provides sufficient justification for the state to infringe upon an inalienable right.
If gays and lesbians are not allowed to marry, their moral and inalienable right to do so will not evaporate. It will endure, but it will be infringed upon -- and that infringement will be morally reprehensible.
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