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.”

Playing Time

December 20, 2013

I spent just enough time sitting on the bench during my high school basketball and college football careers to know I hated it, and I hurt for those who sat on the bench all the time. Even as a headstrong, self-centered adolescent, it occurred to me that not being able to play as much as one might want, or not at all, had to be a terrible feeling.

This greatly affected my approach to coaching football. As defensive coordinator, I would see who was not engaged on the first two offensive units and begin to teach these “extras” defensive skills and strategies. Several players found their niche and contributed either as starters or key reserves on defense.

I made it a point at the subvarsity level to give playing time every week to every player who was on time to and active at every practice that week; and I tried to give a start to every player who met all our team rules and responsibilities for the season.

I know from the reactions of these players and their parents that their attitude about our program improved as they became increasingly engaged with our football team. I saw also that they seemed to support their classroom teachers more, as well as other aspects of our school.

I’ve lost track of them, but I suspect these players and parents continued to be positive voices for the school for many more years – among the loud voices who would not support the transfer of sports from schools to community groups and private clubs. They would advocate more opportunities to be a part of school teams, starting in earlier grades.