I read my first Malcolm Gladwell book over the holiday break (Outliers). Fascinating reading! I'm adding his other books to my reading list.
So imagine my delight in discovering that John Marshall (Atlanta) law prof Lance McMillian (pictured) recently posted an article to SSRN entitled Atticus Finch as Racial Accomodator: Answering Malcolm Gladwell's Critique. Here's the abstract:
Atticus
Finch – the fictional hero of Harper Lee’s 'To Kill A Mockingbird' – is
a legal icon. The legendary status of Finch is confirmed by his
standing in the non-legal world of broader culture. In 2003, the
renowned American Film Institute deemed Atticus the greatest movie hero
of all-time. That a lawyer would be worthy of this honor is nothing
short of remarkable and demonstrates that the stature of Atticus Finch
has assumed mythic proportions in American culture. Atticus is not just
a lawyer; he is justice in the flesh.
Enter best-selling
author Malcolm Gladwell. Last year, Gladwell made waves in The New
Yorker by arguing that, far from being a bright spot of racial
enlightenment in a time of darkness, Atticus Finch instead made an
immoral peace with the world of Jim Crow Alabama. While Gladwell is not
the first to criticize the Atticus myth, he is the most culturally
influential person to do so, which is an important development. The
Atticus-As-Racial-Accommodator charge essentially posits that Atticus
was all-too-comfortable with the racism (and racists) that surrounded
him every day. Gladwell wonders: Where is the moral outrage? In
response, I argue that Gladwell misdiagnoses Atticus because he
neglects the important role that Finch’s Christian faith plays in who
he is as a person. To understand Atticus, one must first understand
Jesus and his teaching. Finch is a New Testament-style prophet whose
worldview propels him to this truth: Love and understanding open doors;
judgment and condemnation close them. Consequently, his quiet and
gentlemanly interactions with the racists in his midst suggest neither
passivity nor appeasement, as Gladwell contends. Instead, they are a
form of character and strength – derived from Finch’s faith in Jesus –
that imbue Atticus with moral authority in the eyes of the community.
Moreover, while Gladwell rightly stresses the need of legal change in
bringing equality to the South, the kind of moral change led by Finch
was likewise necessary. Law is only half of the equation.
This
year marks the 50th anniversary of To Kill A Mockingbird. Combined with
the cultural significance of Gladwell’s recent revisionist foray, this
milestone means that now is a particularly apt time to look at Atticus
with fresh eyes and assess his character anew.
Finch – the fictional hero of Harper Lee’s 'To Kill A Mockingbird' – is
a legal icon. The legendary status of Finch is confirmed by his
standing in the non-legal world of broader culture. In 2003, the
renowned American Film Institute deemed Atticus the greatest movie hero
of all-time. That a lawyer would be worthy of this honor is nothing
short of remarkable and demonstrates that the stature of Atticus Finch
has assumed mythic proportions in American culture. Atticus is not just
a lawyer; he is justice in the flesh.
Enter best-selling
author Malcolm Gladwell. Last year, Gladwell made waves in The New
Yorker by arguing that, far from being a bright spot of racial
enlightenment in a time of darkness, Atticus Finch instead made an
immoral peace with the world of Jim Crow Alabama. While Gladwell is not
the first to criticize the Atticus myth, he is the most culturally
influential person to do so, which is an important development. The
Atticus-As-Racial-Accommodator charge essentially posits that Atticus
was all-too-comfortable with the racism (and racists) that surrounded
him every day. Gladwell wonders: Where is the moral outrage? In
response, I argue that Gladwell misdiagnoses Atticus because he
neglects the important role that Finch’s Christian faith plays in who
he is as a person. To understand Atticus, one must first understand
Jesus and his teaching. Finch is a New Testament-style prophet whose
worldview propels him to this truth: Love and understanding open doors;
judgment and condemnation close them. Consequently, his quiet and
gentlemanly interactions with the racists in his midst suggest neither
passivity nor appeasement, as Gladwell contends. Instead, they are a
form of character and strength – derived from Finch’s faith in Jesus –
that imbue Atticus with moral authority in the eyes of the community.
Moreover, while Gladwell rightly stresses the need of legal change in
bringing equality to the South, the kind of moral change led by Finch
was likewise necessary. Law is only half of the equation.
This
year marks the 50th anniversary of To Kill A Mockingbird. Combined with
the cultural significance of Gladwell’s recent revisionist foray, this
milestone means that now is a particularly apt time to look at Atticus
with fresh eyes and assess his character anew.
I'm looking forward to reading this!