The question of whether to turn in one’s family is not new. It goes back at least as far as Sophocles’ Antigone. In the play, Creon, king of Thebes, ordered that Polynices, who had attacked the city, could not be buried. Antigone defied him and buried her brother anyway, saying her duty to her family and the gods outweighed any law of the state. Creon argued that loyalty to the city must come first.
Modern examples show the same tension. David Kaczynski, brother of the Unabomber, eventually gave information to the FBI that led to his brother’s arrest. Many praised him for putting public safety above family ties.
Others have gone the opposite way. Whitey Bulger’s brother William “Billy” Bulger, a longtime Massachusetts legislator, refused to cooperate with the authorities when they wanted his help locating Whitey. Billy’s reasoning seemed to be that it was not his duty to solve crimes he was not involved in. That was the job of law enforcement.
The law itself has sometimes carved out protections for family. As early as the seventeenth century, courts recognized the principle that “husband and wife are one,” leading to spousal testimonial privilege. Even in modern times, the Supreme Court reaffirmed the idea in Trammel v. United States, 445 U.S. 40 (1980), though in limited form. These privileges show that the law, at least at times, has valued family loyalty as much as civic duty.
No one wants to be in the position of Antigone, or David Kaczynski, or Billy Bulger. These are impossible choices. When duties conflict, we are forced to decide which matters more. In western democracies, many say law and order must come first. Other societies may put family first with equal force. The question remains: would we turn in our closest family member, and more importantly, should we?