Bully Pulpit

Phoebe Prince immigrated to the United States from Ireland last year. As a new girl at South Hadley High School in Massachusetts, she briefly dated the star of the football team, which seems to have incurred the wrath of some of the school's Queen Bees. They subsequently taunted and bullied Phoebe mercilessly. On January 14 of this year, apparently deciding she could stand it no more, Phoebe Prince, age 15, hanged herself.

Now nine students who bullied Phoebe are facing criminal charges. There are calls for the principal of South Hadley and other school officials to resign. Phoebe's family is considering a civil suit against the school district.

Is bullying a crime? Are school officials obligated to police it? To what extent?

To the first question, the answer is, "No." None of the students who took part in Phoebe's torment is being charged with "bullying." They face charges including statutory rape, violation of civil rights with bodily injury, harrassment, stalking, and disturbing a school assembly. (Disturbing a school assembly?) The "statutory rape" is somewhat indisputable; of course, no one claims that Phoebe was anything other than a willing participant in her affair with the football player. The other crimes may or may not have happened and may or may not lead to convictions, but let's face it: If Phoebe hadn't killed herself, these charges would not have been filed. They are a prosecutor's attempts to punish someone for something that cries out for punishment, but for which there is no specific legal remedy.

Nor should there be.

What did these students do? They engaged in the merciless and pointless taunting of a scared young girl. They are jerks. They are heinous. They deserve social ostracism. But what did they do that rises to the level of criminality? On the day of her suicide, one of her tormentors apparently threw a can of Red Bull at Phoebe: That is assault and battery and could be prosecuted as such. Bullying remains a non-crime.

What about the school's responsibilities? From what we read in the newspaper, they were not insensitive to the problems of bullying. Before the incidents involving Phoebe, the school had brought in a consultant to help them deal with the problem of bullying. At least some teachers attempted to reach out to Phoebe. Did they do enough? In hindsight, obviously not. But speaking as a teacher, we are loath to pass quick judgment. If a teacher overheard one of the Queen Bees calling Phoebe a slut, should he have intervened? Probably. But what should he have done? If it were the Solipsist, we would have pulled the name-caller aside and told her to cut it out. But that would be about it. And what if the word hadn't been "slut"? What if it had been "Bitch"? Or "Dumbass"? "Jerk"?

If a teacher sees one student shove another, she can rightfully step in; the pusher could possibly even be suspended--again, it falls under the general category of assault and battery. But what if one student simply knocks the books out of another student's hands? Or slams a locker shut?

We are not trying to be glib. This is a tragedy for Phoebe's family, and we sympathize. We don't have much sympathy for bullies. But teachers and school administrators have more than enough on their plates without having to serve as ad hoc policemen enforcing proper societal behavior. Particularly when the behavior doesn't rise to the level of criminality.

Back when we were in school, the standard advice for dealing with bullies was to stand up to them. This was not just the "code of the schoolyard," either; this was scripture, advocated by everyone from parents to psychologists to after-school specials. Sure, the culture of bullying has grown more extreme (and occasionally weaponized) in the decades since our elementary years. But we still think that, ultimately, the best solution for dealing with those who would demean is to not allow them the pleasure of success.

Phoebe's tragedy arose not only from the meanness of the pack animals who surrounded her, nor solely from the supposed inaction of the school authorities, but also possibly from the lack of a guiding voice--one that woiuld tell her to stand up to her tormentors and not allow them the pleasure of bringing her down.