Mahatma Gandhi said, “The true measure of any society can be found in how it treats its most vulnerable.”
I wonder, is that true of a person? Is the measure of a person to be found in how that person treats the more vulnerable? If we applied that measure when evaluating our leaders, would we find worthier people to lead us, to judge us, to educate or preach to us?
Who are the more vulnerable: women, children, seniors, employees, immigrants, people of color, and the poor?
Grant no kudos for how we treat the rich and powerful. Out of fear or hope of favor, everyone treats them well. We give corporate welfare and a favorable tax structure for the richest among us without a murmur and hold the American economy hostage over a few food stamps so the poor can eat.
If we tip the scale in the other direction and judge the world as Gandhi suggested, as the Old and New Testaments suggest, are we able to avoid electing and appointing those who would undermine democracy, who would withhold rights from people without the power to demand them, who would withhold rights from people to whom those same rights were once granted?
June 24 was an anniversary. On that day in 2022, in Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization, the Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade (1973). It clawed back a right. For 50 years, a woman was guaranteed the right to an abortion, the privacy of decisions made with her doctor, and unfettered control over her own body.
What if we adopted the Gandhi measuring stick? Swore never to elect a man who beat his wife, raped, sexually assaulted, or harassed a woman? What if we never granted power to a man who mistreated someone more vulnerable? Is there a statistically significant correlation between how an individual treats those more vulnerable and how they govern?
In 1991, Clarence Thomas was proposed as a Supreme Court Justice by the Bush administration. Bush called Thomas “a true conservative.” If confirmed, Thomas would replace Justice Thurgood Marshall, a man whom many called the greatest civil rights Justice to sit on the bench.
On October 6, 1991, NPR Supreme Court correspondent Nina Totenberg aired information from a leaked Judiciary Committee/FBI report stating that a former colleague of Thomas, University of Oklahoma Law School professor Anita Hill, accused him of making unwelcome sexual comments to her when the two worked together.
Anita Hill testified before the Senate on October 11, 1991. She said she wished to testify to the “character and fitness of Thomas to serve on the high court.” No one sentient on that day can forget the Coke can, references to Long John Silver, or other details. For Anita Hill there was a significant correlation.
In his denial, Clarence Thomas cast himself as the victim. He characterized the proceedings as a “high tech lynching,” a national disgrace. In his adamant denial, he said he was “shocked, surprised, hurt, and enormously saddened” on learning of Hill’s charges. How could she when he had done nothing but try to help her in her career?
Thomas was confirmed to the Supreme Court of the United States by a narrow Senate majority of 52 to 48. He took the oath of office on October 23, 1991. And the rest is history: accusations of corruption, dishonesty, unethical behavior, and continuing to assert power over those more vulnerable. Is there a correlation?
Remarkable the similarity between the accusations of—and denials by—Donald Trump. Trump was found liable of defamation and sexual assault in a court of law.
What angst we might have saved the country, what stress we might have saved our democracy, what perversion of our law, if we had recognized men who prey on those more vulnerable. How more effectively we might go forward if we recognized the wisdom of Gandhi, and accept the correlation: Those who bully the more vulnerable govern in the same way.
