Limitations of Rules
November 15, 2013
Those who make rules ought to have knowledge of the limitations of rules, lest they overreach and over-regulate.
Dov Seidman writes in how: Why HOW We Do Anything Means Everything: “Rules fail because you cannot write a rule to contain every possible behavior in the vast spectrum of human conduct. There will always be gray areas, and therefore, given the right circumstances, opportunities, or outside pressures, some people might be motivated to circumvent them. When they do, our typical response is just to make more rules. Rules, then, become part of the problem.”
The NCAA is under constant criticism for its voluminous rule book which seems to pry into myriad of daily activities of athletes, coaches, boosters and others with so many rules it’s impossible for people to know them all. So university athletic departments must hire compliance officers to guide people – effectively absolving the people in the trenches from knowing the rules and committing to their adherence; and the NCAA office must hire investigations to sort through all the allegations of wrongdoing.
While much trimmer than the NCAA Manual, the MHSAA Handbook is much larger today than its original versions. Still, every year in December when the MHSAA staff conducts a series of meetings that kicks off a six-month process of reviewing theHandbook, there is a concerted effort to “make the rules better without making the rule book larger.”
We know that unless the rules address a specific problem and are written with clarity and enforced with certainty, rules do more harm than they do good. “This,” according to Seidman, “creates a downward spiral of rulemaking which causes lasting detriment to the trust we need to sustain society. With each successive failure of rules, our faith in the very ability of rules to govern human conduct decreases. Rules, the principal arm of the way we govern ourselves, lose their power, destroying our trust in both those who make them and the institutions they govern.”
Vern Norris
February 20, 2018
For more than two decades, I’ve kept a photograph of Vern Norris on my office desk. I’ve intended this to be a daily reminder that much of what we are able to do now is due at least in part to people who have come before us.
Vern died recently at the age of 89, nearly 32 years after his retirement, having served on the MHSAA staff for 23 years, including as executive director from 1978 to 1986. He had been in declining health during the past year, but not declining spirit. Many people remember Vern as one who would be willing to help almost anyone at any time.
When, in Kansas City, I read his retirement announcement early in 1986, I sent him a congratulatory note. He responded with a personal call during which he asked of my interest in the job. Given my situation at the time – not on staff, not in the state and not in a school or sports administration – this seemed like a wild pitch. But he encouraged me to think about it and, well, the rest is history.
When I leave this job that I have now held and mostly loved for nearly 32 years so far, I intend to follow Vern’s lead. His was a most graceful exit. We spent only five days together in the MHSAA office; and while his advice since then has been rare, his support has always been well done.
I will miss seeing him at this winter’s tournaments and at the Officials Banquet May 5, an event that he began in his first year as MHSAA executive director, an event where we will honor another of Michigan’s officiating leaders with the “Vern L. Norris Award.”