Unlike petitions, life is seldom black and white

It was one heck of a busy week for the petition police in our city.

First, we had the skinny dipping fracas, when a bunch of folk wanted to hold a private, nudie swim at Southland Leisure Centre. That was followed by a move to stop a young man taking a course at the U of C because he’d recently been convicted of sexual interference, a crime involving a 13-year-old girl that took place about three years ago.

Both situations caused an upsurge in petition signing — in the nudist flap, we even had pro and con sign-up options, while in the campus case, the numbers wanting the man booted from class reached about 60,000 names.

As most know, the pool party was cancelled amidst security concerns, while in a convoluted way, the university decided not to ban the 21-year-old from class, but instead, told him he’d be escorted off campus if he turned up – similar security issues being raised as reason for that convoluted ruling.

So we had close to 100,000 people signing these three online demand notices over a period of a few days. That’s a lot of names, but you can’t help wonder how much thought went into some signatures.

Now, I’ve put my name on lots of sponsorship forms over the years, ones promising 10 bucks to some kid if she swims half a mile or some such worthy feat. But when it comes to petitions, I can’t recall signing a single one. Maybe it’s because I’m just too nosy.

Petitions always seem too black and white for me and there’s no one to answer questions about the grey bits.

It’s always a good idea to read the fine print if you sign any contract – but there’s no such information or detail in petitions, which are

Yet even here, I’d want to know more details before demanding someone be kicked out of university.

invariably initially penned by angry people. Thereafter, we are dealing with a plea to assign your own name, and there’s an argument that’s the most important thing you possess in this life, so be careful what you attach it to.

In the nudist pool caper, I can’t help but be flippant, always finding nudity in a group setting slightly ludicrous, and the perfect example of why we humans might indeed be at the top of the evolutionary tree for many things, but when it comes to a nude man versus a naked snow leopard, I know which one I’d rather watch run about.

Still, on balance, I’d be more in favour of letting people hold their private pool party than urging it be banned, even though some niggling concerns about kids being present linger. Simply put, any support of mine would have been lukewarm at best, and that isn’t the right temperature for signing anything so definitive.

There’s certainly no excuse for flippancy over the U of C situation. A sex charge involving a 13-year-old girl as the victim is indeed a serious matter.

Yet even here, I’d want to know more details before demanding someone be kicked out of university.

Why did the judge, who actually did hear the evidence, allow this man to continue his studies before going off to jail to serve a three-month sentence? And why was that sentence only 90 days, which is the absolute minimum that must be imposed under the law. The maximum is 14 years.

A publication ban limits what we’ve been told, only learning an 18-year-old had some type of sexual relationship with the girl and possessed nude photos that he tried to coerce her with by threatening to send them to her parents. That’s a damning indictment, and his punishment, on the face of things, seems lenient.

Wondering what else may have happened isn’t tantamount to aiding and abetting. Wanting more detail doesn’t mean excusing behaviour — it simply means trying to be 100 per cent sure what you’re urged to sign is something you understand completely and therefore back wholeheartedly.

Maybe that’s too high a bar these days.