Making a Monster


Content Note: this article includes discussion of child pornography, quotes from illegal online activity, and links to articles that describe graphic and disturbing descriptions of child pornography, incest, rape, and suicidal ideation.
Holt Parker, who according to his curriculum vitae has taught at UC since 1991, admitted using the email “daddy.cruel@yahoo.com” to collect hundreds of videos and images of child pornography, the documents say, many involving prepubescent boys and girls.
“FBI: UC prof admits trading child porn every day”
If a friend tells me he is straight, and I later find out he has been sleeping with a man, I may even feel betrayed. How could he have lied to me about what he really was?
Holt Parker, Myth of the Heterosexual or The Anthropology of Sexuality for Classicists, p. 323
It is very difficult for us to ignore our own prejudices and realize that what may be literally a matter of life and death in our culture would have been a matter of indifference or bewilderment to the Romans.
Holt Parker, “The Teratogenic Grid”, p. 48
Very difficult indeed. I first read about classicist Holt Parker’s arrest on charges of distribution and receipt of child pornography when a friend (who had read about it on the anonymous gossip site Famae Volent, known colloquially as the “Classics Wiki”) forwarded me a link, sans comment.
As I read the descriptions of child pornography and Mr. Cruel Daddy’s online activity I felt the immediate and visceral disgust that I imagine most members of our culture feel when a fundamental taboo is transgressed. A selfish thought soon joined my feelings of revulsion, however, bringing with it a feeling of guilt that I can’t entirely shake: “But his scholarship is so good! How am I supposed to cite it, let alone assign it to students?” I had never read the Classics Wiki before, but now I found myself refreshing the page in an effort to reconcile my conflicting emotions.
Bring on the damnatio memoriae!
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 3:55 AM
You see, I have utilized Parker’s scholarship on ancient sexuality and medicine, both in my own research and in the classroom. In particular, his article The Teratogenic Grid has been considered more or less necessary reading for any discussion of Roman sexuality. Parker highlights how the Romans schematized sexuality. Unlike our classification of “hetero or homo”, which focuses solely on the object of sexual desire, Romans instead classified sex (and sexual participants) along a grid that juxtaposes agency (active or passive) with orifice (mouth, anus, or vagina). Understanding this schema is crucial for our interpretation of much of Latin literature. The title of the piece (and this one) refers to this system and the fact that anyone who didn’t fit into the realm of “normal” delineated by the grid was considered by the Romans to be monstrous (“Teratogenic” = “monster-making”).
Now, however, I am so repulsed by what I have read of the man’s actions that I’m not sure I will ever be able to read his words without juxtaposing them with his other monstrous utterances:
… all of us do not, in fact, want to have sex with all men or all women.
Holt Parker, Myth of the Heterosexual or The Anthropology of Sexuality for Classicists, p. 337
when asked by bugsbunny19682006@yahoo.com “what age woudl you cvum in?”(sic) CRUEL responded “6–16,” “actually 6–36.”
Criminal Complaint against Holt Parker
“By the very act of classification, any cultural system not only defines ‘normal’ and ‘abnormal,’ but also creates anomalies that are perceived as monstrous because they cross the boundaries of defined categories.” “The Teratogenic Grid”, p. 49 (emphasis mine because, to quote Parker again, from the same work: QED.)
It’s telling, perhaps, that discussion of this incident is most robust in an online forum where people feel free to voice their bitterest (and often nastiest) opinions. News broke at the beginning of one of the big yearly Classics conferences (CAMWS) and I’ve heard from friends that Parker’s arrest was the topic of many hushed conversations. That these conversations were whispered, or anonymized, likely evinces the profound discomfort and shock most are experiencing.
Part of me wants to perpetuate the silence and argue for a true damnatio on Parker’s works. And I should be clear here that anything I say below that seems to advocate against damnatio is not intended to invalidate anyone who wants or needs to take this approach owing to their own biography: survivors are everywhere, including in academia. At the same time, before I personally choose silence, I want to consider first whether that choice will cause additional pain, or perpetuate other kinds of oppression.
In reading the reaction of the Classics community (at least, the dubious sample size of those who participated at FV) and in one-on-one discussions with colleagues and friends, I’ve come to realize that Parker’s arrest and alleged crimes touch on several issues with which academia as a whole is in dialogue. I want here to start an open discussion about these larger issues, but I confess to being deeply ambivalent about how to answer most of the questions raised in this article and, frankly, about the value of this piece to the community relative to the professional risk I assume by discussing these issues openly.
I do think there is value in an open discussion. As classicists, we research, teach, enjoy, and promote the value of studying the products of cultures that are most decidedly un-PC. Nearly all of the ancient authors we enjoy either condoned or committed acts of slavery, pedophilia, rape, and various unjust -isms and prejudices. The legitimizing patina of antiquity was/is often used as a justification for immoral practices. And the field of Classics itself has a troubled history (that, unfortunately, continues to the present) of participation in various oppressions.
It’s no surprise, then, that Parker’s arrest has me thinking about how I might navigate these oppressive waters: should I consider the biography of a scholar relevant to an evaluation of his or her scholarship? Is it possible to cite or assign the innocuous work of any scholar who has participated in noxious acts without also somehow condoning those acts? To what extent — if at all — ought our personal moralities play a part in our scholarship and pedagogy? Does the field of Classics have a moral obligation to address this scandal? If yes, does it follow that we have a moral obligation to condemn similar practices in antiquity?
I am having this same internal battle right now. His scholarship has been really influential to my work, and as I sit here working on an article for which his work is highly relevant, I keep wondering: do I cite him? omit it? dance around it? change my argument entirely? As another commenter pointed out, the scholarship is still valid. The arguments are still sound. The evidence is still good. I just can’t bring myself to write his actual name on the page. I have several projects in progress, and three days ago I was excitedly citing his work. But everything is different now.
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 1:58 PM
How are we to evaluate Parker’s scholarship in light of these biographical details? The marginal identities of, say, female-identifying scholars who work on women in antiquity, queer scholars who do queer studies, or scholars of color who write on race or slavery in antiquity are often unfairly considered relevant to an evaluation of his or her scholarship or scholarly validity. This unjust connection is usually implicit and unexamined, although most of us have probably heard explicitly egregious examples as well. (Mine: the very famous and prominent Professor Emerita who loudly complained that she was “sick of these female scholars who insist on ruining Classics with their feminist scholarship”).
While some scholars may find it academically beneficial to utilize their own personal identities and experiences explicitly in their scholarship, others, who might prefer to keep the personal and professional spheres separated, may not be given a choice in the matter. Scholars with marginal identities whose studies focus on similar identities are just not afforded the free pass that Parker, as a (presumed non-pedophilic) heterosexual white male scholar, received when he published on women and sexuality in antiquity. In fact, one could argue that his work may have been considered by some to be eminently or pristinely scholarly by virtue of his status as a straight white male; with such a normalized identity he could have been presumed to have nothing but unadulterated scholarly interest in his subject. Indeed, his work has been highly lauded: among numerous other awards listed on his CV are included two Women’s Classical Caucus prizes.
On the one hand, it strikes me as hypocritical to insist that the gender, sexual preference, or race of a scholar should be irrelevant to an evaluation of said scholar’s product while at the same time refusing to assign or cite Parker’s work in light of this new, monstrous, information. There is, perhaps, no greater pariah in modern Western society than the pedophile, after all.
On the other hand, I’m very hesitant to equate these situations. Our culture has a troubled history of pathologizing homosexuality or gender non-conformity, and any comparison of pedophilia with homosexuality feels especially like a step backwards. Perhaps it is a more equitable solution to consider how the identity vectors of all scholars might influence scholarly product?
… I’m sorry, there is a connection between his scholarship and his “extracurriculars.” It couldn’t be more obvious. It’s not like his day job was homer’s use of the metaphor. You want to get your hands dirty in that sh**?
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 2:31 PM
Because a good deal of Parker’s scholarship deals with the topic of ancient sexual mores, I think people will find it even harder to separate the man from the work. In fact, several of the anonymous commenters on FV seem very comfortable with connecting the topic of Parker’s scholarship with his alleged pedophilia. This strikes at the heart of what all classicists must confront, particularly in the classroom: why study antiquity at all, given that many ancient practices and mores are morally repugnant by today’s standards? One answer — the easiest answer — is of course to take a morally relativistic approach to antiquity:
An ancient ethnographer, Tacitus say, is transported here. He begins to describe our society, particularly our sexual customs. At first he is simply appalled. On our streets perverted pathici openly flaunt themselves, wearing T-shirts that boast of their disgusting oral submission to women (“Muff-Diving Instructor,” “Free Mustache Rides”); they advertise their loathsome services in the personal columns of newspapers. Then he is bewildered. On the other hand, we treat as the vilest of criminals perfectly normal men whose only crime is the perfectly normal action of buggering boys. Some pathici we persecute, others we allow in public. Some viri we consider normal, others we incomprehensibly incarcerate.
Holt Parker, “The Teratogenic Grid”, p. 62
… Morality is not relative. People don’t get a pass because the standards of their time were different. They don’t need to get a pass for our purposes though, because engaging with their works does not imply endorsement of their characters.
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 3:12 PM
… According to you. There’s plenty of people who subscribe to the idea of moral relativism. It’s ludicrous to project present-day standards onto people who lived hundreds or thousands of years ago and complain about how terrible or problematic they were. Societies differ spatially and temporally and attempting to apply some one size fits all metric to their morality is tone deaf.
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 7:25 PM
Even if one takes such a relativistic approach to antiquity, does it follow that we can or should apply the same relativism to modern scholarship? I doubt anyone would assign scholarly work that reflects an author’s obviously racist, anti-semitic, or otherwise prejudiced viewpoints, unless the goal were to expose the extent to which classical scholarship is a product of contemporaneous views more than a reflection of historical truth. I seriously hope no one has cited or assigned, say, The Authoress of the Odyssey for an alternative reason!
Yet it does seem, per Anonymous@2:31pm, that it would be easier to rehabilitate Parker’s scholarship if it were on Homer’s use of the metaphor. But should we? How much of the seemingly neutral scholarship that is still cited and assigned today itself cites — or was even authored by — members of the Nazi Party or Hitler Youth? Just as it seems logically inconsistent to refuse to consider the influence of normativity on someone’s scholarship while at the same time allowing for such influence when an aspect of a scholar’s identity is marginalized, so too does it seem illogical to reject scholarship as illegitimate only in those cases where the subject matter overlaps with a troubling aspect of the scholar’s life.
The role of identity, bias, and contemporaneous cultural values is increasingly considered relevant to an evaluation of cultural products, including academic scholarship. As scholars, our goal is often to eradicate as much personal bias as we can, but we deceive ourselves if we think it isn’t still there. Rather than ignore this problem, it may be more salutary to confront this issue head-on, as Jim Porter suggests:
In a world in which classicists are facing huge challenges of a very practical kind — challenges reflected in ever-dwindling enrollments, job prospects, funding, and symbolic resources (prestige and cultural capital) — it is incumbent on classicists to reassess themselves, their relevance, their place in the world, and their future. Penetrating into the history of a discipline is the most natural point of entry to self-reflection and self-examination one could ask for. But perhaps the most fruitful way to start — the place where the most immediate gains are to be had — is by studying the history of the history of classical studies.
Even if the consensus is that we should evaluate all scholarship on its own merits and in a contextual vacuum, I’m not sure it is even possible to take a neutral stance on Parker’s scholarship — at least not during this generation — given that anyone who avoids citing Parker, at least in terms of situations where citation would otherwise be natural, may just make his absence an equally ominous presence; anyone who cites him, on the other hand, will inevitably be considered by many to be indicating acceptance, or at least a troubling lack of condemnation of, his activities. It’s a conundrum. This is not the exact same conundrum bioethicists face when considering whether or not to advance the field of medicine by utilizing the results of unethical studies (Dr. Mengele’s work, for example), but it does strike me as analogous, even, perhaps, as existing on the same continuum.
There is a modern trend to practice one’s politics (often seemingly inseparable from morals) via consumerism. Witness the boycotts of: halloween candy, Roman Polanski films, Chick-Fil-A, Hobby Lobby, among others. Have our dollars (perhaps “cents”, if we’re to be honest about how remuneration for academic scholarship works) supported the child pornography industry?
… I think I will cite the work if it’s relevant. I’m still not sure about assigning the work to students, though. That seems too much like, if not endorsing, then at least tolerating monstrous acts.
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 2:50 PM
Whatever solution one proposes, instructors who assign Parker’s work to students should be prepared for a discussion of his arrest — hopefully because such an instructor would want his or her students to explore these issues. Even a reluctant instructor, however, will not be able to avoid such a conversation, since any student Googling Parker’s name could easily come across the news articles about his arrest. It strikes me that this is then an issue of content warnings. Those who stand on the anti-TW side of this issue will probably lament that the fragile millennial has reached such a state of infantalization that ze must now be warned about the potentially triggering biographical details of secondary authors!
Yet the kind of course that would include Parker’s work on the syllabus should already be having these very discussions. You cannot teach a myth class without encountering rape, incest, and pedophilia. You cannot teach a history class without describing slavery, genocide, and oppression. You can’t even teach an Introductory Latin or Greek course without textbooks that include sentences like, “the angry master beats the lazy slave.” We need to be sure we have ways to discuss how and why we study — maybe even appreciate — works by people or cultures we consider despicable.
In the debate over content warnings in academia, I have never once witnessed an academic advocate for the silencing of discussion. Rather, the debate seems to be over when and how to introduce a potentially triggering topic: do we inform students of the content of an assignment or discussion before they encounter it? Or will students derive a greater pedagogical benefit from encountering a topic unchaperoned? In either case, I believe professors have as their pedagogical goal the desire to foster respectful debate and discussion. With that goal in mind, we should be prepared for classroom discussions of this topic to reveal a variety of opinions, including those of students for whom the inclusion of Parker’s work on a syllabus will evoke painful feelings.
… I think we can all agree that there are some absolutes: for instance, preying on children is wrong, at any time, and in any place.
Anonymous, March 17, 2016 at 8:49 PM
We all may be able to agree on this point, but I’m not sure we can agree on where to go from here. This is a situation, however, in which confronting the issues at stake, and going public with our own struggles to reconcile our moral truths with the problems inherent in studying Classical Antiquity, in working in a field with a troubled history, and in participating in an enterprise (the academy) which is coming increasingly under scrutiny for various unethical practices will at least move us away from aporia and towards some kind of solution.
We need to talk about this.


Sarah Scullin received her PhD in Classical Studies from the University of Pennsylvania in 2012. Her research focuses on comparing ancient and modern concepts of culture as a means of understanding values and beliefs about the natural world and human behavior.

