“Today,” I began, standing behind the podium at Santa Clara University’s Fifth Annual Sports Law & Ethics Symposium, “I am the moderator.”  I let the comment float amongst the audience as they looked at the empty seats on stage which had occupied panelists all morning.  “And you are the panel.”

As resident philosopher on the board of the university’s Institute of Sports Law & Ethics, I’d been slated to lead an “interactive session”—“A Big Picture View of Ethics in Sport.”  Throughout the day’s speakers and panels, I would sift through the myriad ethical issues to find a topic I believed would pique the interest of attendees and lead to thoughtful dialogue about ethics in sport.  This turned out to be a daunting task as the day was filled with titillating topics from such panels as, “Bullying and a Culture of Performance” and, “The Brave New World of College Athletics.”  I honed in on something that came up tangentially in a fascinating panel on “Trending Topics,” moderated by the astute ESPN Correspondent, Tom Farrey.  As the panelists discussed current topics in the sporting world, it led to a conversation about athletes as role models.  At that point, Stanford University Emeritus Law Professor, William Gould IV, mentioned the Richard Sherman “incident,” commenting that he was “blown away” by his antics.

In case you’re unfamiliar or have forgotten: in the 2013 NFC Championship game, following a defensive play by Richard Sherman which secured the win for the Seahawk’s, he made a “choking” gesture at 49ers quarterback, Colin Kaepernick, and then, moments later in an interview, asserted, “I’m the best corner in the game.  When you try me with a sorry receiver like Crabtree that’s the result you’re gonna’ get.”

A panel of tremendously thoughtful and intelligent experts then weighed in on the ethics of Sherman’s actions, all citing, in an off-the-cuff manner, that his behavior was “ok.”  Not being totally familiar with the philosophical relevance of “ok,” I could only assume that they meant, “ethically allowable,” in the sense that one might say, “I think framing pitches in baseball is ok.”  Their respective defenses of this moral conclusion came in three different forms:

1. Sherman—like all athletes—is an entertainer and was doing the job of entertaining;

2. His actions were “real” and “raw” and unscripted;

3. He made a name for himself (demonstrated by virtue of the panelist having recently seen Sherman in a peanut butter commercial with his mom).

While all true statements, they struck me as somewhat tangential—if not completely unrelated—to evaluating Sherman’s actions from a moral standpoint.  And so, I chose this as the discussion topic for my session.  Following a very brief introduction to sports ethics, including a favorite quote from Albert Camus—“What I know must surely about morality and the duty of man I owe to sport”—I gave the audience their task: How should we evaluate the behavior of Sherman in this instance?

Each table, seating six to eight people, had five minutes to discuss.  As the buzz of the room maintained a fevered pitch, I let the conversations continue before asking everyone to reconvene, at which point I asked my panelists to share their thoughts.  From the fourteen comments shared, a number of themes arose which I will highlight here.

While many agreed that Sherman behaved in an unsportsmanlike manner, they weren’t sure this translated to being unethical.  As one noted, “His actions were rude and shameful but not unethical.”

Another theme that arose involved trying to properly frame the role of culture in determining the ethical status of an action.  Two people mentioned the fact that the league didn’t fine Sherman and, thus, the act was then ethically allowable.  In addition, the question was posed, “Can athletes behave differently in a game by virtue of their being in that game?”  The question was pushed further by another commenter who then asked, “But when does the sporting ‘context’ end?  At the final buzzer?  Once off the field?  After the press conference?  After the season?”

Lastly, there was a general consensus that his actions were, in fact, unethical.  One argued that it was in opposition to the Golden Rule.  Another, that it disrespected others.  And a third, that it set a bad example for children watching the event.

Very often, seemingly simple transgressions serve as ideal catalysts for the most thoughtful discourse.  In doing so, this sort of dialogue then highlights how complex such an endeavor really is, if done earnestly.  At a dinner following the symposium, Tom Farrey commented that an entire book could be written about just this case.  He’d suggested that it might not be as clear-cut of an issue as I’d hoped, given that we must account for numerous factors from various disciplines.  He mentioned a few such as the role that race played in the public’s view of this as well as the fact that it happened in Seattle and the relevance that particular demographic should have.

On this point, I certainly agree with Farrey.  This, in part, is what makes sports ethics such a fascinating and rich discipline.  While this particular transgression may seem somewhat benign in the tapestry of the human condition, as our penultimate commenter suggested, it provides an ideal opportunity to discuss those issues we hold most dear.  And so, as per Camus, sport can continue to teach us about morality and the duty of humans to each other.