The Value of Life

Insurance companies make a living providing a service that places a value on things we feel are important. They value lives, material goods, and even perceptions. The dollar amount of a life is often accompanied by a vast set of calculations, actuarial tables and medical examinations. When the value of a life is calculated because of a death or injury, often those that are younger are valued higher because they have more years of lost earning potential than those that are older. 

Our society mirrors this value proposition. We value our sports athletes higher when they are younger. We revere the aged athlete, but they don't usually carry the same value for advertising, ticket sales or even points they can score. We also often value higher what is hip or young or new. The plaid bell bottoms that were all the rage in the 70s (thanks mom!) are simply not valued high enough for someone to wear in public today. If you can find them now, they are usually cheap and at a second hand store.

I feel I can say with certainty that my family and I value our children highly. They are young, they are dear to us and none would apply a monetary number to any of them. As Caitlin might say, I value my girls "infinity plus infinity!" They can be everything we weren't, or everything we wanted, or even surprise us with nothing we've dreamed about all on their own.

What does it say, then, about a society that doesn't value children? Are they less of a society? It's a difficult question to answer without arriving at a conclusion that is influenced by our own society and up-bringing.

I've asked myself about society here in Afghanistan and what it values after hearing some recent information on new tactics of insurgents. I have been going over the implications in my head trying to understand the incomprehensible. The insurgents know the Americans will pay "solatia," a payment to a family when an innocent Afghan is killed as a sign of good will regardless of fault. The insurgents also know that children injured or killed in fighting, regardless of who is to blame, is bad press for us and good press for the insurgents.

The new tactic was simple for insurgents. When the Americans come to a hostile area, they would send out children of the villages to open areas between where the Americans were and where the insurgents were hiding. The insurgents would then initiate a fire fight when the children were directly between the two fighting forces. The intent was simple. If a child was injured, the insurgents could use that as propaganda, and if the child was killed, propaganda and money for the village.

How can we fight this and have a hopeful future for Afghanistan? How do we even attempt to apply reason to an insurgency that places so little value not only on their lives, but on the lives of their children? Muslim men believe that they will be rewarded by Allah with virgins in heaven. What reward do they believe their children will be granted?

I am overwhelmed by fury, sadness and confusion. I simply can't understand it, and maybe it's because I've been fortunate enough to have parents that have always shown me love and support. Even when I was younger and not always making the right choices, I still couldn't imagine being sent into a field in the hopes that by my injury or death I could be used for propaganda or for a new wall around my home.

Since learning this, the number of emotions and memories that have reminded me of my girls are innumerous. I remember Marianne on my chest and holding her as she slept when she was only a few days old. I remember Caitlin's first smile when we didn't know if it was a smile or gas. Marianne's first tooth she lost, Caitlin's winter outfit on the swing in two feet of snow when her grandparents came to visit from Ohio. Marianne's first day of school, Caitlin's just two years later, cross country meets, dance shows, band concerts, software programs, videos, hikes up mountains, softball and soccer games, and going to see the Red Sox.

When I would talk to people returning from Afghanistan who ultimately came to detest Afghans, I always wondered if I would be able to give the Afghans the benefit of the doubt. I'd thought to myself, "They don't have the resources for education," or "They need to develop their economies to help people find jobs," and even, "They have been burdened by centuries of war and conflict." I had thought there would be a logical explanation and a logical path to a just and successful society.

As I laid there in the dark before falling asleep on the night I heard about this, I thought about my girls in their beds thousands of miles away. I thought about the night time tickle fights with Caitlin and the riddles with Marianne. I thought about how peaceful they look when they sleep, and how much I enjoy seeing them when they wake up. 

I thought about what it would take for the insurgents to recognize the joy they could have for their children, how I might help them understand. That was weeks ago. I still haven't a clue.