Experiences cloud views of the truth

Not one of us looks at the world through a perfectly clear set of lenses. Our view of reality is always clouded by the layer of dust that our own experiences have settled upon our sensibilities.

That doesn't mean there's no such thing as truth - or that Rudy Giuliani's bluster last month that "truth isn't truth" is anything other than a cynical excuse for distorting what's real. But it does mean that people of good will may see things differently, without evil intent.

Consider that, please, before you condemn either those who embrace the testimony of Christine Blasey Ford or those who say Brett Kavanaugh did nothing - or, at least, did nothing to Christine Blasey - that ought to stop him from becoming a U.S. Supreme Court justice. It's possible that both Dr. Ford and Judge Kavanaugh are telling us the truth as best they can perceive it, and that many of the people who have lined up behind each of them are motivated by honorable goals, acting on the closest they can get to truth.

If something that you've read here so far makes you angry, I'm not surprised. Americans are so divided right now that we can barely tolerate the suggestion that somebody on the other side of a contentious issue might not deserve scorn. We want less acrimony in our politics, we say, and we want big issues to be settled by reason rather than emotion, but we're too mad at the other side to want to give an inch - even an inch that would concede valid motives on the part of those who disagree with us.

Yet we have to try to see through other lenses, not to prepare us to yield to a conflicting viewpoint but simply to acknowledge that there may be more than one path to find truth.

From my perspective, there's no reason to doubt the recollection of Christine Blasey Ford, a research psychologist, that a 17-year-old Brett Kavanaugh, fueled by alcohol and adolescent testosterone, sexually assaulted her at a party in a Washington suburb in the early 1980s. Every part of her story has the ring of truth, and I can't imagine any benefit to her that would prompt her to lie about this.

Yet you also could imagine why Judge Kavanaugh, now 53, would insist he is not lying in asserting that what Dr. Ford has claimed is not true. It's not just that alcohol may have washed out his memory of that night 36 years ago, but also that his brain may have suppressed the memory of an event that is at odds with his self-perception as an upright, honest fellow. He may genuinely believe that this event didn't happen. Denial, after all, is a well-known defense mechanism, allowing our brain to suppress an unpleasant memory.

Beyond that - and maybe more relevant to those who say Dr. Ford's story should stop the appointment of Judge Kavanaugh - consider more broadly the carelessness that often characterized the life of an elite teenage American male in the 1980s. Such a young man may not have registered what is alleged by Dr. Ford as even worthy of note. Which you may conclude makes Brett Kavanaugh unworthy of a lifetime appointment to our highest court. And which you may pray isn't how a 17-year-old in 2018 would view an incident such as Dr. Ford describes.

Almost every woman I know will tell you that she has been a victim of unwanted sexual aggression, at least, or of sexual assault. But when men discuss the issue now at the center of national dialogue, some will say that "boys will be boys" in the heat of passion and that even if Dr. Ford's story is true, it ought not to matter; others will say they never did anything like what it's said Judge Kavanaugh did, and can't imagine that their friends did, either.

Those numbers don't square. Somebody isn't telling the truth - or perhaps doesn't see it.

But if you have kids or grandkids, you want to consider the lessons they may draw from this moment. Think of what this experience might imprint in their brains, affecting how they see what comes next in their lives.

You want your son to not be the one who jumps on a girl and holds her down. If he is, say, 17, you want him to learn now that such behavior at his age will have significant consequences.

You want your daughter to not be the 15-year-old Christine Blasey, her scream covered by an older kid's hand as she worries that he may accidentally kill her. You want your daughter not to have to carry the memory of an attempted sexual assault for decades, until it finally emerges in a marriage therapy session.

That is, you want to teach your children well.

Don't teach them that sexual aggression is the way things are, or that teenage misbehavior doesn't count. And don't teach them to denigrate those who see things differently from how they do.

Teach them that truth matters, and that sometimes finding it requires shaking the dust out of your eyes so that you can see what others do.

Rex Smith is editor of the Times Union. Contact him at rsmith@timesunion.com.