Chasing Pokemon

Officials at the Taft Elementary School in Wyandotte announced a few weeks ago that they are considering a ban on Pokemon trading cards -- the latest fad among elementary school kids. Teachers complain that the cards are an on-going source of arguments and even thefts among the youngsters.

Banning Pokemon cards seems so trivial in a world in which a 6-year-old shoots and kills a classmate. But it is a perfect example of the contemporary pedagogic philosophy that makes these larger tragedies all but inevitable.

Previous generations of educators would undoubtedly have used such childish disputes as an opportunity to teach about voluntary cooperation and civil social interactions. Refraining from disruptive behavior has always been one of the first lessons learned in school.

I attended parochial schools and recall that gum chewing was, for instance, not allowed. But it was chewing gum during school that was prohibited -- not the mere possession of a pack of Wrigley's Spearmint (Juicyfruit for the girls). Violation of the rule could result in a trip to the principal's office and, perhaps, an after-school detention. I'm sure that today's politically correct, "progressive" school administrators would be aghast to see how the nuns at St. Jude's would have dealt with theft.

The contemporary approach is to preempt irresponsible behavior by the simple expedient of banishing the troublesome items. Coincidentally, there was another example of this kind of "protect kids from having to actually deal with the real world" philosophy the very same week in one of the daily columns by professional advice dispenser, Ann Landers. In that instance the offending objects were in fact guns. But the proposal was essentially the same: lock them up, hide them somewhere, hide the ammunition somewhere else, hide the key in yet another place, and to quote Ann, "teach kids not to touch guns."

This is incredibly stupid and dangerous counseling from someone who makes her living giving out advice.

Every parent knows that, given ten minutes of unsupervised opportunity, kids could work their way through every clever security measure protecting the legendary pirate booty in the "Money Pit" on Oak Island, Nova Scotia. And in another two minutes figure out how to get the treasure chest unlocked. Every parent also knows that kids find what is strictly taboo irresistibly appealing.

The wise parent who is a responsible gun owner will remove the mystery by taking their kids to the range, teaching them the fundamentals of gun safety, and letting them hold and fire a weapon -- so they can see for themselves the power and damage of which it is capable.

Of course, this would no more have prevented the tragedy of a six-year-old finding a stolen weapon in his crackhouse home than would President Clinton's proposal to ban high capacity clips and require trigger locks and background checks of legitimate buyers.

But Ms. Landers suggests instead that safety is somehow to be found in blind fear and deliberate ignorance (though, oddly, she doesn't espouse this philosophy when it comes to illicit drugs or sexually transmitted diseases).

It used to be that the widely acknowledged goal of child rearing was to prepare the naive and dependent youngster to face the world as a competent, independent, self-reliant adult. However, as we enter the 21st century it appears that has been replaced by the notion that children should be sheltered for as long as possible from learning that actions have consequences.

The traditional "reading and 'riting and 'rithmetic" focus of education, for instance, has now taken a back seat to obsessively promoting what is mislabeled "self-esteem."

Genuine self-esteem flows naturally from a sense of personal integrity, competence and accomplishment. What our society has actually ingrained in our children is not self-esteem, but self-importance -- it's perverse mirror image that is not earned but rather asserted as an entitlement.

The most obvious result of embracing this psychobabble is, not surprisingly, that scholastic skills have plummeted. Of course, on the plus side, the little dears are perfectly comfortable with that.

It puts one in mind of the old admonition: Be careful what you wish for, you might get it. Unfortunately for educators, there remains a stubborn 15% or so of kids who are restless and unhappy despite all the insulation and the ceaseless I'm-okay-you're-okay indoctrination. But, our culture has found away to deal with these problem kids, as well.

We drug them.

A daily dose of Ritilin or Luvox or Prozac and our Brave New World can be populated with nothing but contented little Alphas and Betas and Gammas protected from normal growing pains and convinced that they are destined to be the indispensable cog in society's machinery.

And isn't the Soma-sotted world a happy place?

Until a couple of them in Colorado shoot up a school like some non-virtual video game -- only without a reset button to bring all the fleeing targets back to life. Then everyone wrings their hands and pontificates about how we need to make even more laws to do a better job of keeping guns out of the hands of high school kids. But, it has always been difficult to control teenaged angst in any case. It would be far easier to nip this problem in the bud.

What we really need to do is keep Pokemon cards out of the hands of 1st graders. And hope that the ban is more effective than the one against handguns.

Tim O'Brien is the Executive Director of the Libertarian Party of Michigan.