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Barring the Gauntlet

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I'm sorry, but--yes, Virginia, there is a Unabomber**

In 1897, a little girl named Virginia O'Hanlon wrote to the editor of the New York Sun asking if there really were a Santa Claus. "Dear editor," she wrote. "I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, `If you see it in the Sun, it's so.' Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?--Virginia."

Newspaper editors do not make a habit of answering fantasy mail from little kids, but Francis Church apparently decided that Virginia was on to something bigger than a simple Yuletide myth, and wrote an editorial reply that has become one of the most famous pieces of journalism ever written.

"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus," Church wrote. "He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! How dreary life would be if there were no Santa Claus. It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias.... Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else as real and abiding. No Santa Claus? Thank God he lives and he lives forever. A thousand years from now, maybe 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood."

Eighty-one years later, in 1978, a psychotic with a knack for explosions sent his first lethal bomb. After a few more people had died or been mauled by his toys, the suspect became known as the Unabomber, since most of his targets at that time were people and property associated with universities and airports.

One of the most difficult aspects of being a journalist is trying to tread the line between objectivity and responsibility. What, after all, is the role of a newspaper? Is it simply to let people know what happened without asking the whys and wherefores? Or is there more to it than that? Perhaps it was wrong for Church to remove the protective and objective mask of journalism and say "Yes, Virginia." But something deep inside me says otherwise, that a little girl's innocence is worth more than an old man's objectivity. Sometimes, journalistic intervention is simply right--even if not necessarily journalistic.

That said, I want The Times and The Post to publish the manuscript. But I know they can't. No organization--be it The New York Times or the United States government--should concede to the demands of terrorists. To do so would only legitimize their actions and let other potential megalomaniacs know that the way to get what you want is to threaten violence. A society that listened to terrorists would be anarchical, ruled by those with the biggest bombs and the smallest minds. Intellectually, I understand, accept and agree with this.

I can't help thinking, however, that we're killing Virginia, sacrificing innocence for principle. By placing principle above human life--which, if you believe that the Unabomber is a credible threat, is exactly what we're doing--we as a society are losing something precious. We do it, of course, all the time: We let murderers off on technicalities because we believe in the sanctity of the Fourth Amendment and think that the scales of justice will balance out in the end.

There's still something that gets lost amid all the posturing about Justice and Journalistic Ethics and Not Giving In To Terrorists. That's what we have to remember--the "shoulds" are a hell of a lot more complicated than our pithy principles, when thrown around without serious consideration, make them out to be.

Maybe we'll all be better off in the long run if The Times and The Post don't print the Unabomber's manuscript. Someone, however, may have to die for that decision. Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus--but he's afraid to open his mail.

Justin Dillon is a Trinity senior and editor of The Chronicle.