The Gold Standard

My motivation is twofold: I write both to stay within range of public opprobrium, hoping beyond hope that it does not flame out like all the others have, and to encourage insightful criticism, as opposed to the sort of fulminating that has compromised journalistic integrity in recent weeks.

After a quiet week, it appears the Ray Rice scandal lies fallow -- just how the NFL prefers it. The shock value of that harrowing video has worn off, so all is right -- or still wrong -- in the world again. Hackneyed though it may be, however, we cannot let this tragedy out of our grasp, for we would risk permitting the NFL to run rampant with impunity. And we all know how hard it is to slow down, let alone stop, a juggernaut.

Let us begin by identifying the culprit. Ray Rice? Well, of course -- the video released by TMZ is sufficiently incriminating. But the NFL Players' Association (NFLPA) filed an appeal of Rice's indefinite suspension and will likely have it overturned. They're not wrong to do so, nor would it be wrong for an independent adjudicator to honor the collective bargaining agreement between the NFL and its players, who are represented by the NFLPA. After all, not doing so would set a nasty precedent, opening the floodgates to double jeopardy and an imbalance of power that would certainly harm future negotiations. Even if Ray Rice were made an example of, these problems would persist. His actions are merely symptomatic of a pervasive disease.

Roger Goodell?

The face of the nearly $10 billion a year industry that is the NFL, he earns a shade under $45 million a year, by corporate standards a salary commensurate with his job performance. Under his leadership, the NFL has become more lucrative in each successive season. Goodell is a titan of industry who presides over the most powerful sports organization -- or cartel, a more apt designation of late -- in the world.

Yet all that success and more could not have staved off the spate of incidents that has befallen the NFL these past few weeks. First there was Rice, then Adrian Peterson, then Jonathon Dwyer. This phenomenon is nothing new: There will always be another Ray Rice, perhaps many more.

For years, the NFL has dealt clandestinely with incidents perpetrated by its players, proving adept at weathering outrage. It recycles these incidents under the guise of "never again," as if each seemingly new one were not prefigured by an endless supply of past analogues. What's more, the NFL has the ability to erase them from the public consciousness, a result infinitely worse than superficial hand-wringing or apathy. It is by forgetting that we enable the NFL to uphold the status quo and thus become guilty of injustice.

To nip the problem in the bud, which no legion of angry commentators has yet seriously proposed, start with the NFL organizationally. Call it house-cleaning. Start with a safety net, a real one, not the hodgepodge of programs the NFL currently has in place. Establish a rigid set of demands of each player to ensure his physical and emotional well-being. Instruct them in healthy habits, focusing primarily on mental health and financial literacy, neither of which the NFL broaches in any depth with its players.

Lastly, know the employees. Know where they come from, their paths to fame and fortune, and what makes them tick. Know their tendencies, their likes and dislikes and their family histories. If we could suss out and deal properly with the underlying causes of these incidents, then and only then would we be able to nip them in the bud. Then and only then would we be truly surprised and horrified when a Ray Rice reared his ugly head.