This past week the California legislature, ever the harbinger of progress, passed a bill reducing, under certain circumstances, the penalties related to physical intimacy between adults and minors. It involves a reduction in (not elimination of) penalties for adults (18 and up) who engage in certain activities with minors (under 18), provided the age gap is 10 years or less and the minor is 14 or over; the upshot of the bill (if California governor Gavin Newsom signs it) is likely be unfortunate rather than dire.
This is not the bill to be worried about, if you are a social conservative. But it does raise questions, for — like all such bills — it relies on the notion of consent.
Consent is the sine qua non in extra-familial relationships: without it, the term “relationship” is rather meaningless. But though consent is necessary for a healthy relationship, it is insufficient.
Consider, for example, the analogy of finance, or labor, or sports. We might obtain verbal “consent” from 10-year-old Rupert to invest his inheritance in mutual funds; but the law generally does not accept that Rupert has the judgment to determine his investments, and so requires that his financial interests be vested in a parent or guardian until he “comes of age.” Again, 12-year-old Evangelina might want desperately to contribute to the family finances; but modern child labor laws frequently presume that her consent to a working arrangement should be overridden for her own good. And finally, 14-year-old Arthur, when he signs up for the competitive soccer team, signs a waiver about injuries and indemnity — but, critically, his parent signs too, because it is assumed that Arthur, being a tender 14 years of age, is not mature enough to sign away his own ability to sue the living daylights out of the soccer coach, should his malleus, incus, and stapes fracture in an ill-advised headshot.
There are plenty of other things government and society (let alone parents) do not think that children and teens are competent to decide: many medical procedures, whether and what school to attend, the right age for walking to the park or riding the subway alone or watching in a public theater an NC-17 movie (the very restriction is baked into the designation!). In all these cases the presumption is that a young person’s consent is not sufficient: and the implication is that there is a deep sense in which people do not always know what is good for them. Their consent, we might say, is uninformed — not simply because they lack information intellectually, but because their lack of emotional and life experience makes them necessarily less able to handle decisions that even adults can agonize over.
And yet — and yet — there is one area in modern life in which young people are supposed to be able to consent: the matter of SB-145. When it comes to intimacy, our culture accepts that a 14- or 15- or 16-year-old has the judgment and maturity to make decisions.
I would not attempt to argue that all teenagers are too immature to determine what constitutes a healthy romantic relationship; but such maturity is rare. In ancient and medieval times the nobility (but not, notably, peasants) were frequently married quite young — to people chosen by their parents. Nobody thought Romeo and Juliet were old enough for informed consent; and Shakespeare hints that they may have been the exception that proves the rule.
The same holds true today: I know of a few people who got together in their teens and are living happily ever after; but most people would agree that their teenage judgment about who constituted a worthwhile partner was atrocious.
So what gives? Why are we careful to protect teenagers from bad choices about money, work, safety, movies, and drugs, but casual about potential bad choices in the area of romance?
Read the rest at the Register: https://www.ncregister.com/blog/it-s-human-nature-to-believe-in-human-nature-even-if-we-re-wrong-about-it
No comments:
Post a Comment