Knew or Should Have Known: A Question that Arises Far Too Frequently

So, stories take on a life of their own to be sure. And, over the passage of time, stories can take new twists and turns. Memories get lost or sharpened (sometimes with help from PR or legal or psychological professionals). And, to be sure, we know that even the same experience can be remembered differently by different people, as aptly described in a recent article about Sophia and Simone Elliott appearing on NPR on April 13, 2024. Each remembered their childhood and molestation differently.

We are repeatedly confronted with reported instances or instances we actually personally encounter that shock us, surprise us, leave us asking questions. We look at human behavior and ask whether we are the outsiders and the world is behaving in ways we simply do not recognize. We ask: what is going on in the world writ large?

And, in the midst of all this, I want to share two examples of situations where folks are in a position to answer and did answer: “I did not know.” These are usually situations involving something untoward or gossipy or unusual or even criminal. In these situations, one is often asked this question: Did you know? While many answer that question in the negative, I have a different question. Might it be wise to reframe the question to ask: Should you have known? That can be applied to parents, bosses, co-workers, partners. When bad things happen, should we have foreseen these events or happenings?

In other words, we may not have known certain things consciously but the better, more probing question seems to be one that posits a different obligation: an obligation to inquire, to be vigilant, to be aware, to be context- sensitive, to be wise or to be curious or to believe in one’s capacity to ferret out the truth. One could be self-reflective too. Other items can be added to encouraging certain inquiring behavior.

Let me explain.

Two recently articles in PUCK got me thinking about this situation in the context of Leon Black. Then, the media storm about gambling and Shohei Ohtani’s translator added to my queries. Here is a summary of these examples stated most simply.

Leon Black paid some $158 million to the now deceased convicted pedophile Jeffrey Epstein. Black claims that he had no idea how much he had paid Epstein over time. In essence, Black’s claim is that the amount of $158 million was a mere rounding error and not noteworthy given his (Black’s) enormous wealth. He simply did not know or care how much he paid Epstein.

Now, we are not asking in the abstract what $158 million could buy to improve the world. We are asking what exactly did that $158 million buy for Leon Black? Leon Black claims it was for “trust” advice from Epstein to save taxes upon Black’s death. Perhaps. Might it have been for added things like access and opportunity of a wide ranging sort? Might it have been for friendship? Who even knows? One of the parties is dead. The other is surrounded by advisors.

Here’s what I think. Give this idea a whirl. Maybe Leon Black did not know how much he gave Jeffrey Epstein, a convicted pedophile. That might just be true. I’d ask this question instead: Should he have known?

I understand that the wealthy act differently. Money has different meaning to those worth billions. But surely, $158 million paid to a pedophile is worthy of added scrutiny by the giver. Might one actually want to ask oneself whether paying such a sum made any sense in some objective, moral sense? Some situations call for us to ask for questions, to probe possible meanings, to reflect on perceptions of one’s family, one’s workplace, one’s own identity. At the time, Black was having an affair, his wife was recovering from cancer and investigations of Epstein abounded. Might any of that make one pause and ask and reflect?

Ignorance is Leon’s Black’ defense. Of course, that depends on how one defines ignorance. “Knew” or “should have known” are not the same. Conscious ignorance is one thing. But, how about the subconscious knowing? Or how about simply deciding not to know?

Now, the number of missing dollars from Shohei Ohtani’s accounts were smaller: only $16 million. And yes, the baseball player trusted his interpreter who used the money — it seems — to make and pay off his own (the interpreter’s ) gambling debts. And, it seems the interpreter had control of the baseball player’s bank accounts, with or without permission. So, at least the argument goes that Ohtani actually did not know. He was ignorant.

But here’s my question: might one want to take a glance at one’s own personal bank account statements periodically? Might one want to peruse where one’s money was going? Might one want to question certain payouts? If the answer is yes, then the question is about whether Ohtani should have known. Might one’s accountants have asked questions? Yes, CEO’s of big and small businesses do not look at each bank statement for sure; instead they rely on their CFO’s and their auditors.

And both of these situations (Black and Ohtani) raise “trust” questions: not as in trusts to protect money from taxes but trust in others to be doing the right things. Black seems to have trusted Epstein. Beats me why. Otani seens to have trusted his translator. Makes more sense.

Other Situations and the Dilemma

There are many situations where ignorance is bliss and our faulty memory can help us achieve that state. We don’t remember how we treat people — when we treat them badly. We don’t remember quirks that might have seemed strange but we didn’t pause to ponder or probe them. We have a habit of ignoring red flags, even those flying right in front of us. Maybe we don’t see them or maybe we don’t want to see them.

But, should we see them? Should we be distrustful? Should we question and be concerned about odd situations and odd individual relationships?

How often do we ask, AFTER bad things happen, didn’t the person see this coming? And, with 20–20 hindsight, we offer the advice that what was happening was clear to everyone except the persons in question.

Of course, we can be hoodwinked. Of course we can be deceived. Of course we can be living with an abuser or a thief or just a bad person and not see it at the time. We can be dealing with a psychopath and the FBI even have trouble detecting their lies.

Distance does give us remarkable insight as does the passage of time. And our minds allow us to give flex and leeway when it suits us or when we have trust.

So What Does All this Mean and Not Just for Black and Ohtani?

I think I come at this from a reverse angle. I wonder about some people who are abusers and do not notice or consider their behavior. These people proceed along as if all is well. And even if others (their children or families or co-workers) wonder about them, they proceed with conscious ignorance. They are oblivious to their behavior and its impact on others. They just behave and treat their behavior as perfectly normal.

I wonder. I wonder why folks are not more self-reflective. I guess I am really wondering why people do what they do or don’t do what they should do. Forget Epstein for a moment. Might Leon Black have reflected on how his behavior in many realms affected those in his family and business? Might Ohtani have liked being isolated from his peers by having an interpreter and never thought about the consequences? Might he have been so focused on his athletic success that he let himself be totally bamboozled?

I wonder about parents who abuse children and spouses who abuse each other or one abuses the other.

Is the excuse: I did not know. I wonder whether they should have known. Lots of folks should have known their behavior would affect others. Perhaps we should consider that question — the shift from I did not know to I should have known.

Might it make all of us pause where we did not pause before? Might it encourage us all to think more before we act? Just saying: we can look inward and in so doing, might we just come up with different answers and behaviors?

Just asking. Your thoughts are welcomed.