Last Sunday night, Red Sox pitcher Ryan Dempster intentionally threw at Yankees third baseman Alex Rodriguez four times in a row because he disapproved of A-Rod’s steroid use. Dempster plunked him with the fourth one, yet the umpire failed to eject Dempster. Yankees manager Joe Girardi charged onto the field to defend his player and got himself ejected. Dempster, like many other players, found A-Rod’s illegal use of performance-enhancing drugs deplorable. But he was not right to throw at him.
Just war theory distinguishes between jus ad bellum and jus in bello criteria for waging just war. The former involves one’s reasons to go to war, while the latter evaluates one’s conduct within the war. Since the criteria for each type must remain distinct, jus in bello analysis should not incorporate the jus ad bellum assessment of justness. So how does just war theory factor into this debate? Categorizing baseball as the “war,” Alex Rodriguez is justified in playing. He has appealed his suspension and can legally play until Major League Baseball reaches a verdict in his case. In short, he is jus ad bellum justified to play. Within the game, then, he deserves the same treatment as any other player. Intentionally throwing at a hitter violates the league’s code of conduct (i.e. its jus in bello criteria). Thus Dempster did not have jus in bello justification for his actions and deserves the five game suspension he received.
Dempster did not have just ad bellum justification for his actions either. In this example, the “war” is not baseball, but rather A-Rod’s potential punishment. In jus ad bellum terms, a country may go to war if it has just cause. The MLB possesses the authority (just cause) to punish wrongdoing. Dempster does not. Thus he did not have jus ad bellum or jus in bello justification for his actions.
Framing Dempster’s action in this way explains the seeming paradox that a recent New York Times article poses: why would Girardi, a man who despises cheating more than anyone in baseball, rush to the defense of his obviously guilty player? The writer concludes that he “gains a lot by rallying his team together.” But I don’t think his reaction was calculated or utilitarian. He defended his player because his player had every right to be on that field at that moment, and, in light of that fact, he deserved the same treatment as every other player.
For the complete New York Times article, see “Girardi Stands, and Jumps Up, for What’s Right” (Tyler Kepner, August 19)
