F

irst, it’s just a bit of 
light flashing in front 
of your eyes and a 

nebulous blue-black amoeba 
swimming in your 
vision. Then after 
a bit of clouding, 
your 
thinking 

begins to slow, with 
no particular pain. 
Your 
reactions? 

They’re 
just 
a 

millisecond behind. 
Your throw? Just 
slightly to the left. 
Your 
hearing? 

Just a bit muffled. 
Sometimes you stumble out 
of the area of play, wander 
over to put your head in 
your hands. Though it isn’t 
particularly painful, you’re 
taken aback by how dull 
everything feels, as if a fog 
descended over your face.

As 
someone 
who 
has 

experienced quick, powerful 
hits to the head in close 
succession, 
these 
are 
the 

immediate 
symptoms 
that 

arise. These types of hits to 
the head have brought about 
a commonplace discussion on 
the rise of Chronic Traumatic 
Encephalopathy 
cases 

reported in players of football, 
rugby, hockey, soccer and a 
variety of other sports.

CTE is a degenerative brain 

disease caused by a history 
of repetitive brain trauma. 
When too many hits are made 
to the head in one’s lifetime, a 
protein is produced in greater 
quantity than normal, causing 
the brain to deteriorate. It can 
lead to depression, psychosis, 
dementia and even death.

When 
Aaron 
Hernandez 

— the former New England 
Patriots football player who 
was convicted of murder in 
2015 — was diagnosed with 
CTE after his suicide, much of 
the world saw another reason 
to question football’s place in 
our society. Was the style of 
play too violent? Were there 
enough “checks and balances” 
to ensure player safety? Only 
27 years old when he died, 
Hernandez’s autopsy found 
he had already experienced 
very progressive CTE.

With such brain trauma, 

I 
certainly 
began 
having 

suspicions 
correlating 
his 

behavior 
to 
his 
diagnosis. 

From reports, his emotions 
fluctuated 
often, 
which 

certainly could lead to crime 
and 
suicide. 
Even 
more 

disturbing, previous players 
found with CTE were known to 
have erratic off-field behavior. 
I was taken aback that much 
of the CTE focus was directed 
at the sport. The demise of 
football 
isn’t 
the 
question 

we should be asking. CTE is 
opening the door to a realm 
of “neuroethics” that must 

be addressed; otherwise, our 
judicial system will be faced 
with an extreme ethics crisis.

A 
major 
aspect 
of 
the 

vast 
and 
quickly 

developing 
field 

of neuroscience is 
that it is still highly 
correlational. With 
that notion comes 
a 
foggy 
line 
on 

what brain patterns 
and 
chemical 

interactions 
exactly 
yield 

certain 
behaviors. 

Nevertheless, even 

without total and complete 
justification for the actions, 
its presentation has certainly 
already made its appearance 
in 
courtrooms 
across 
the 

nation. 
Since 
2005, 
the 

appearance 
of 
arguments 

based 
on 
neuroscience 
in 

courtrooms has more than 
doubled and is quickly rising. 
More importantly, it shows a 
major flaw in how we approach 
science in the courtroom.

John Oliver’s latest piece on 

forensic science highlighted 
this flaw, and it certainly has 
alluded to the neuroethics 
that should be highlighted 
in cases about CTE. The 
legal practice has progressed 
(in 
my 
opinion, 
through 

a realization of collective 
mistakes) 
developments 
in 

our society’s conscience that 
can be highly inconsistent and 
rather subjective. By contrast, 
the field of neuroscience is 
far more absolute, looking 
for concrete statements and 
conclusions based on highly 
developed 
and 
systematic 

approaches. 
I 
posit 
that 

we find the latter far more 
appealing, which is why, even 
with the fogginess in the 
correlation between behavior 
and 
neurological 
makeup, 

it is rather convincing to 
demonstrate that “science” 
is 
the 
reason 
why 
such 

abhorrent actions occurred.

The problem with CTE 

arising in the case of Aaron 
Hernandez 
might 
not 
be 

entirely obvious, but where 

exactly 
does 
one 
place 

blame? Is it the NFL? Is it his 
environment off the field? Or 
is assigning blame even what 
we should be considering? 

If someone does something 

abhorrent, 
certainly 
there 

must be some blame assigned. 
As a part of our societal 
makeup, too often I find the 
need to blame is written into 
our culture. Nevertheless, I 
counter that it might not be 
the best way to see “justice” 
in 
our 
legal 
system. 
As 

David Eagleman, a leading 
neuroscientist at Stanford, 
explains, “The choices we 
make are inseparably yoked 
to 
our 
neural 
circuitry, 

and therefore we have no 
meaningful 
way 
to 
tease 

the two apart. The more 
we 
learn, 
the 
more 
the 

seemingly simple concept of 
blameworthiness 
becomes 

complicated, and the more 
the foundations of our legal 
system are strained.” The rise 
in conversation surrounding 
CTE, and how the disease 
might have affected Aaron 
Hernandez’s behavior, will 
soon 
be 
confronted 
with 

questions of what and who to 
blame, and a collective debate 
must ensue.

Along with “blameworthiness,” 

another 
issue 
is 
that 
CTE 

— as well as many other 
brain disorders — are found 
only 
after 
the 
perpetrator 

was 
deceased. 
Certainly 

advancements in neuroscience 
technology 
might 
fix 
this 

issue, but at the moment 
it leaves a possible hole in 
how the legal arguments are 
framed and designed. When 
the 
perpetrator 
commits 

the crime, what activity in 
their youth could contribute 
to issues in brain function, 
leading them to commit a 
crime? Did they have a disease 
that has not been diagnosed?

With more flaws rising 

in the legal structure, the 
questions on CTE certainly 
make me question the future 
design of law. To address 
these 
issues, 
one 
must 

recognize that the law is 
currently 
designed 
as 
an 

adjustment to the present. 
The structure of our legal 
system is to take an issue that 
is presently occurring and 
push the discussion through 
the courts until the doctrine 
modifies to the norms. Let me 
suggest that the legal system 
begin questioning ways it 
can adjust its viewpoint from 
adapting to the present to 
developing for the future: 
to the questions of free will, 
what or who is to blame and 
what it means to be human.

R

ecently, U.S. Attorney 
Joon 
Kim 
dropped 

a 
bombshell 
on 
the 

college basketball world. Four 
assistant coaches from Power 
Five 
programs 
— 
Auburn 

University’s 
Chuck 
Person, 

the 
University 
of 
Southern 

California’s Tony Bland, the 
University of Arizona’s Emanuel 
“Book” 
Richardson 
and 

Oklahoma 
State 
University’s 

Lamont Evans — were charged 
in 
various 
cases 
involving 

corruption and bribery. Six 
other 
individuals, 
including 

an Adidas executive, financial 
planners and agents were also 
implicated. Federal authorities 
allege the men negotiated deals 
designed to illegally funnel 
recruits 
to 
specific 
college 

programs, then to agreed-upon 
apparel companies and agent 
services 
once 
the 
athletes 

turned professional. 

While some have been quick 

to point fingers at individuals 
and programs as roots of the 
problem, 
it’s 
the 
ultimate 

failure of the NCAA that has 
enabled such alleged rampant 
corruption to take place. Not 
only has the NCAA created a 
system that empowers higher-
ups to exploit college athletes, 
but its capability to efficiently 
regulate the system has proven 
borderline anemic.

Throughout 
its 
history, 

the 
NCAA 
has 
remained 

steadfast in its commitment to 
“amateurism” and the concept 
of a “student-athlete,” often 
taking unpopular measures to 
preserve their reputation. For 
instance, in the past month 
alone it suspended a Central 
Florida backup placekicker and 
a freshman Texas A&M cross-
country runner for using their 
athlete “likeness” to profit off 
their 
respective 
images 
on 

personal YouTube channels.

Such 
nitpicky, 
trivial 

rules have come under fire 
from players, coaches, fans 
and pundits alike. Even Jim 

Harbaugh, 
University 
of 

Michigan football coach, got in 
on the action after unknowingly 
committing a minor infraction 
in 
2015 
— 
dismissing 
the 

violation 
by 
quoting 
Oscar 

Wilde in a tweet that stated, 
“Thought of the day: ‘No good 
deed goes unpunished.’”

Concurrently, the landscape 

of collegiate athletics has been 
rife with scandals of massive 
proportion. 
Most 
recently, 

the University of Louisville’s 
basketball 
team 
employed 

strippers on recruiting visits 
(and 
subsequently 
forfeited 

the 2013 national title). And for 
decades, the Ed Martin booster 
situation has plagued the Fab 
Five’s legacy. There have been 
countless other cases which 
have highlighted the pervasive 
use of illicit recruiting tactics 
to garner commitments from 
high-profile players. Therefore, 
it was alarmingly ironic to 
hear William Sweeney Jr., the 
assistant director of the FBI’s 
New York office, refer to the 
Bureau’s Sept. 26 charges as 
contributing to “a ‘pay-for-
play’ culture that has no place 
in college basketball.” Clearly, 
such a culture has already 
manifested itself deep within 
the sport’s identity.

Unfortunately, this underbelly 

largely stems from the NCAA’s 
staunch 
unwillingness 
to 

allow athletes to tap into the 
billion-dollar 
college 
sports 

industry, 
thus 
generating 

incentives to facilitate back-
channel 
transactions 
with 

third parties. Because recruits 
cannot profit off their name by 
signing autographs, receiving 
a portion of jersey sales or any 
other endeavor that leverages 
their athletic status for financial 
gain, the door is wide open for 
organizations to capitalize on 
a player’s long-term potential 
by compensating them now. By 
making a relatively small bet, 
whether it be through a bribing 
a coach or directing payments 

to the recruit and his or her 
inner circle, companies can 
secure future gains with the 
promise of returning the favor 
in the form of lucrative apparel 
deals, sponsorships or mere 
association when the athlete 
eventually turns professional. 
Right or wrong, the unpaid 
collegiate system has produced 
this opportunity, and as long 
as it’s available, people will 
take advantage.

What’s more is that even 

with a system whose flaws are 
widely recognized, the NCAA 
has limited abilities in how it 
can actually pursue wrongdoing. 
As a private institution, it has 
no subpoena power or formal 
legal authority, thus severely 
hindering the extent to which it 
can acquire necessary and useful 
information to aid investigations.

This weakness was exposed 

by 
the 
FBI’s 
process 
of 

gathering facts to formulate its 
allegations. The FBI used a pro-
athlete financial planner who 
was close to the scandal “to get 
an undercover agent into hotel 
rooms, meetings and deals.” As 
a result, it was able to record 
intimate 
conversations 
and 

confidently implicate numerous 
figures. 
Such 
an 
operation 

is squarely outside the legal 
jurisdiction of the NCAA, and 
epitomizes its inherent inability 
to take necessary measures to 
purge the system’s offenders.

Therefore, 
though 
the 

ongoing FBI investigation may 
topple some notable coaches, 
programs and other entities, 
its implications may also have 
long-lasting effects. Perhaps 
when it’s all said and done, 
after realizing how much the 
system perpetuates a pay-to-
play and then fails to regulate 
it, people will finally demand 
real change in the NCAA. Until 
then, we can at least enjoy 
watching it crash and burn 
before our very eyes.

N

early two weeks after 
Hurricane 
Maria 

hit 
Puerto 
Rico, 

destroying much of its critical 
infrastructure — most notably, 
95 percent of the electrical 
grid 
— 
President 
Donald 

Trump 
visited 
the 
island. 

His statements there, which 
should have contained at the 
very least traces of empathy, 
were as ego-driven as usual.

Almost 
immediately 
upon 

arrival, 
he 
complained 
the 

territory 
had 
“thrown 
our 

budget a little out of whack” 
and lauded island officials for 
the relatively low death toll — 
which, at 16 deaths, was much 
lower than Hurricane Katrina’s. 

Later, he praised Ricardo 

Rosselló, governor of Puerto 
Rico, saying, “He’s not even 
from my party, and he started 
right 
at 
the 
beginning, 

appreciating what we did … 
Right from the beginning, this 
governor did not play politics. 
He didn’t play it at all. He 
was saying it like it was, and 
he was giving us the highest 
grades. On behalf of our 
country, I wanna thank you.” 

I’m not sure what complete 

failure of conscience causes 
someone 
to 
see 
a 
natural 

disaster in terms of “grades” 
or — as he did with U.S. Rep. 
Jenniffer González-Colón, the 
territory’s 
Republican 
non-

voting 
representative 
— 
to 

request further praise, now that 
he and the media were there:

“Jenniffer, do you think you 

can say a little bit (of) what 
you said about us today?” 
Trump asked. “And it’s not 
about me. It’s about these 
incredible people, from the 
military to FEMA to first 
responders. I mean, I’ve never 
seen people working so hard 
in my life. Perhaps you could 
say, congresswoman?” 

I’m not sure why, at this 

point, I find myself freshly 
disgusted with each instance 
of cold-blooded narcissism. 
What else, from a former 
reality television star? The 
drive to seek attention is 
threaded into the deepest 
parts of his personality and, 

for Trump, there has ceased to 
be a line too far. Everything — 
even a major natural disaster 
that affected more than three 
million U.S. citizens — is a 
chance to capture a few more 
seconds of media spotlight.

For some time now, I’ve 

debated whether or not the 
media’s critique of Trump is 
useful in any concrete way — 
if it’s actually accomplishing 
something, or if it simply 
exists to validate the opinions 
of 
people 
who 
have 
long 

since 
come 
to 
hate 
him. 

This particular instance of 
ineptitude, though, leads me to 
believe that the media has been 
forced into a role it hasn’t held 
since the advent of 24-hour 
cable news: that of an educator.

Much in the same way 

“The 
Learning 
Channel” 

stopped learning quite some 
time ago, our major cable 
news networks have drifted 
further 
and 
further 
from 

actual news. No one wants to 
pay for dry analysis and Wolf 
Blitzer reading sleepily from a 
teleprompter, but they’re more 
than willing when it’s coverage 
of scandal, the horserace or 
political squabbles.

Even 
our 
president 
isn’t 

immune to this effect. He 
reportedly loves the television, 
with 
the 
Washington 
Post 

estimating that, on an average 
day, he consumes five hours’ 
worth. 
Furthermore, 
unlike 

former 
Presidents 
Clinton 

and Obama, he watches it for 

current coverage of himself — 
not as an escape from it. Our 
media institutions are thus 
faced with the unfortunate 
task of educating the president 
through the only thing he has a 
sustained attention span for.

If President Trump prefers 

to 
receive 
intelligence 

briefings condensed to one 
page with “killer graphics,” 
it may be useful to take 
those lessons to heart when 
tweaking 
news 
broadcasts 

for 
one 
vitally 
important 

viewer. 
Commentators, 

instead of scoring unnecessary 
extra 
points 
with 
viewers 

who 
already 
share 
their 

political alignment, might try 
coaxing Trump into learning 
something. Fox News and CNN 
seem to have a united interest 
in ensuring that the president 
is minimally educated for the 
job, even if they have to go 
about it in different ways.

Cable news pundits rarely 

do 
original 
journalism, 

preferring to repackage the 
work 
of 
print 
journalists. 

They are thus enabled to 
participate in our national 
effort to soothe the president’s 
wildly 
unchecked 
ego 
by 

providing careful discussions 
that guide him toward more 
stable, researched positions. 
His advisers might not be able 
to make him read more than 
a page, but I certainly believe 
Sean Hannity, Wolf Blitzer and 
other journalists are capable of 
reading to him.

Whether 
it 
bruises 
our 

national pride or not, we owe 
it to Puerto Rico and those 
who will face similar and 
greater struggles in the future 
to make sure the president 
knows how to act in his office. 
With any luck, he’ll eventually 
internalize 
the 
ideas 
that 

people are not responsible 
for 
natural 
disasters, 
aid 

distribution is not a proper 
method of winning support and 
that we expect him to pursue 
praise through competence, 
not performance.

Opinion
The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
 4A — Monday, October 9, 2017

REBECCA LERNER

Managing Editor

420 Maynard St. 

Ann Arbor, MI 48109

 tothedaily@michigandaily.com

Edited and managed by students at the University of Michigan since 1890.

EMMA KINERY

Editor in Chief

ANNA POLUMBO-LEVY 

and REBECCA TARNOPOL 

Editorial Page Editors

Unsigned editorials reflect the official position of the Daily’s Editorial Board. 

All other signed articles and illustrations represent solely the views of their authors.

EDITORIAL BOARD MEMBERS

A report card for Trump

HANK MINOR | COLUMN

Neuroethics changes the game

DAVID KAMPER | COLUMN

Hold the NCAA accountable

RYAN WOOCK | OP-ED

Carolyn Ayaub
Megan Burns

Samantha Goldstein

Caitlin Heenan
Jeremy Kaplan

Sarah Khan

Anurima Kumar

Max Lubell

Lucas Maiman

Alexis Megdanoff
Madeline Nowicki
Anna Polumbo-Levy 

Jason Rowland

Anu Roy-Chaudhury

Ali Safawi

Sarah Salman
Kevin Sweitzer

Rebecca Tarnopol

Stephanie Trierweiler

Ashley Zhang

Ryan Woock is an LSA freshman.

 Hank Minor can be reached at 

hminor@umich.edu.

David Kamper can be reached at 

dgkamper@umich.edu. 

DAVID 

KAMPER

Everything... 
is a chance to 
capture a few 

more seconds of 
media spotlight.

SUBMIT TO SURVIVORS SPEAK

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Michigan Daily for first-person accounts of sexual 
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and legal implications. Submission information
can be found at https://tinyurl.com/survivespeak.

CTE is opening 

the door to 
a realm of 

“neuroethics” 
that must be 
addressed.

