The Right Thing

Sunday, May 03, 2026

When fair isn’t equal in family giving

What’s the right thing to do when an aging parent, still mentally sharp and financially secure, gives one adult child tens of thousands of dollars over time, but gives nothing to another?

A reader we’re calling Louise says that for years her mother has been quietly handing her cash gifts: $1,000 here, $1,200 there, despite repeated objections. Louise estimates the total has exceeded $25,000. Each time she protests, telling her mother she doesn’t need the money. But her mother insists, sometimes angrily, that she wants to give it and expects it to be accepted.

Complicating matters is that her mother has chosen not to give similar gifts to Louise’s sister. When Louise has pointed this out, her mother responds that the sister is well-off and “doesn’t need it.”

Louise believes the arrangement is unfair. She also worries about the potential strain such gifts could create between her and her sister once they are discovered. If these gifts aren’t openly acknowledged to both Louise and her sister, they could result in misunderstanding or resentment.

She has considered returning the money without her mother’s knowledge or, after her mother’s death, trying to square things up so both sisters will have received equal amounts. That either action would go against her mother’s wishes gives Louise pause.

Louise’s mother has the right to decide how to distribute her money, even if Louise finds those decisions inequitable. Many families strive for equal treatment among children, but others define fairness differently, based on need, circumstance or personal judgment. Whether or not Louise agrees, her mother has been clear about her intent.

Louise may not be able to change her mother’s behavior, and it may not be her place to do so. She can, however, decide how to respond. If accepting future gifts feels wrong or potentially harmful to her relationship with her sister, she might choose to say so clearly and consistently, even if her mother disagrees.

If Louise feels strongly that accepting the money is inconsistent with her values, she might also choose to refuse future gifts. If she takes that path, the right thing would be to do so with kindness and directness. Her mother may respond that giving brings her joy. Louise can acknowledge that generosity with gratitude while still explaining that accepting the money does not bring her joy, but makes her uncomfortable.

Waiting to try to “fix” the imbalance later by redistributing the money after her mother’s death might result in causing her sister to resent that such an action needed to take place. It would also not honor Louise’s mother’s wishes. That’s why choosing to be honest and direct with her mother in refusing to take the gifts could be her best choice.

Perfect fairness might be impossible to achieve. But if Louise can find a way to respect her mother while being honest with her about her reasons for refusing these gifts, it could help get closer to the level of fairness Louise desires. It might not be a perfect response and it could result in some challenging conversations with her mother. But by being honest with her mother, she might come closer to a resolution with which they both can live.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com.

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin.

Sunday, April 26, 2026

Should you trust a 'one-of-a-kind' Facebook ad?

Should you be concerned if an advertisement on Facebook for a "unique" product seems to feature the same product from at least a dozen different companies?

That’s a concern for a reader we’re calling Nona. It’s a good question that raises a concern about the often murky ethics of online marketing.

Nona wrote that she noticed that not only were similar products being offered as exclusively manufactured for a store, but also that the stories being told about the store were remarkably similar. Recently, she’s noticed quite a few stories about a mother and daughter operation that is slashing its prices because it is forced to shut its (often virtual) doors after 10 years or five years or whatever.

There’s nothing wrong with the same or similar product being sold by different companies. Duplication is OK. But promoting the items as unique offerings crosses the line into being deceptive.

If a product is being promoted as unique or exclusive when it’s clear that identical versions of the product are available elsewhere under a different name, that can be deliberately misleading for consumers. Granted, companies have embellished stories about their products for years, like the fictional J. Peterman on the sitcom "Seinfeld." But they should never lie about their wares or the availability or exclusivity of them. Lying rarely builds trust with a prospective customer.

Given the prevalence of online scams, consumers would be wise to have a healthy skepticism of anything offered online that appears too good or too cheap to be true.

If a seller on Facebook claims to be shutting down a decades-old business, it’s worth checking to see how long ago its Facebook page was created. If reviews for products on sites other than Facebook don’t seem available, that too can be a sign that something fishy is up. If the reviews are all glowing and pretty much the same, be suspect.

It’s also possible to check websites like Trustpilot.com and look up a company’s name to see if there are reviews available. Consumers can also try to go to the merchandiser’s actual website. If one doesn’t exist, red flag alert. If one exists but there’s no physical address given and no phone number provided, another red flag.

If it seems like a photo of an “exclusive” product shows up from more than one company, it’s simple enough to do a reverse image lookup on Google to see where else the same item appears. It’s also simple enough to search for the company’s name along with the word “scam” on a search engine to see if others have reported on the company’s legitimacy.

If you find something you truly like online that is offered elsewhere, you don’t have to rule out purchasing it. But the right thing is to be careful when doing so and do as much due diligence on a company before you hand over your credit card information.

Again, it’s OK if many companies sell the same item at various prices. If they are misleading about who they are, that’s when it’s worth asking if they might be misleading you about other aspects of their business, such as quality and customer service.

Sunday, April 19, 2026

Are you just paying for service, or for attention too?

When you pay for a personal service, are you only buying the result? Or are you also buying attention from the provider while it’s happening?

A reader from California, whom I’m calling J.J., believes the answer is obvious. If someone is cutting your hair, treating an injury or doing your nails, they should focus on you, not chatting with coworkers.

Is it wrong, J.J. asked in an email, to feel that not focusing on the customer is rude and unprofessional?

J.J. does have a point. In such personal services where human physical contact is essential, you are paying for competent, safe and professional service. That should include enough attention to do the job well and respond to your needs. If distractions affect the provider’s work, that’s not acceptable.

We should not, however, expect that our providers will engage in lively conversation. Some clients want chatter while others crave silence. A good service provider often will try to gauge a client’s preference. They might even ask. But just because they don’t engage in conversation while doing good work doesn’t violate any rules.

Chatting nonstop with a coworker, however, rather than paying attention to a client may send a message to the client that you’re not paying attention to him or her or them, even if the provider does an OK job. When someone has a scissors or a straight razor working in the vicinity of your head, it’s fair to expect their undivided attention. A quick exchange with a co-worker is OK. Engaging in a heated discussion as if the client is invisible goes too far.

If J.J. wants more engagement, he should say so. If he prefers to be told about the work the provider is doing, it’s OK and good for him to indicate such. If he prefers quiet, it’s OK for him to tell the provider that. He should not, however, expect the provider to read his mind.

A provider should not be expected to entertain his or her clients, but they should be expected to acknowledge the person in their chair. Some eye contact, occasional check-ins, or a brief explanation of the work being done might show respect without slowing down the work.

In the end, you’re paying for a service. But you’re also paying to be treated like you matter—at least a little—while it’s happening. That doesn’t require constant conversation, but it does require some awareness.

Ultimately, clients such as J.J. have a right to choose service providers based on whether the service they receive is the type of service they want. If someone gets a great haircut but can’t stand how he’s treated while in the barber’s chair, he’s unlikely to return. Some clients stay loyal to a barber or a therapist for years based on the quality of service. Some move on after a single visit because of how off-putting they found it.

Finding someone who provides a comfortable level of attention can build loyalty and trust. Total absence of attention is unlikely to do either. It’s fair to judge a service, particularly a hands-on type of service, on more than just results.

The right thing is to tell your service provider what you want. If he or she can’t deliver, then find someone who can.

Sunday, April 12, 2026

How much nonprofit follow-up is too much?

Is it wrong for not-for-profit organizations to send volumes of follow-up mail and overwhelm inboxes with messages after a donor has given their first donation?

That question comes from a reader we’re calling Sheila who recently made a cash donation to a group she admired and soon found her mailbox and inbox flooded with follow-up solicitations.

My first response to Sheila’s question was: What did you expect?

Nonprofits want your money. That’s not a character flaw. It’s their operating model. If someone gives once, it’s not surprising for the organization to ask again.

At first glance, Sheila’s concern seemed a nonissue. A donor gives. A nonprofit asks for more. End of story.

Then I thought more about what happened to Sheila. Within minutes of her donation, her inbox alerted her with a thank you. Appropriate. Then came a message suggesting she could make even more of a difference with a second gift. By nightfall, she’d received a survey, a newsletter she hadn’t known she’d subscribed to, and an invitation to join a circle of larger, more consistent donors.

By week’s end, Sheila wasn’t feeling appreciated. She was feeling pestered.

The issue isn’t whether nonprofits should follow up. They should. Donors are their lifeblood, and building relationships is appropriate. A thank you, updates on how contributions are used, and occasional appeals all make sense.

But when does “follow-up” become “flood”?

Organizations rely on data that encourages more outreach, not less. If repeat donors are more valuable, and engagement increases retention, the temptation is to communicate frequently. It’s easy to send a stream of messages without asking how it feels on the receiving end.

That’s when the question of how much is too much arises.

A single donation is not the same as consent to ongoing, high-volume solicitation. Yet many organizations act as if it were. The line between stewardship and saturation gets blurred, and donors who intended to support a cause find themselves managing an unexpected relationship with their inbox.

Organizations might start by asking themselves if they would be up front with prospective donors about their communications practices, including their email habits. Would they really want to tell a donor that they will be in touch every day or so whether the donor likes it or not? If not, nonprofits may want to reexamine the frequency of their solicitations.

Beyond being thoughtful to donors, nonprofits should recognize that donors who feel overwhelmed may unsubscribe, disengage or decide their initial act of generosity has come with too many strings attached. In trying too aggressively to secure a second gift, organizations risk losing the donor altogether.

My initial instinct reaction may have been to shrug off Sheila’s question as the natural order of fundraising, but I’ve come to appreciate her concern The right thing isn’t for nonprofits to stop communicating, but they should do so by being clear with donors how they will communicate and then do so with moderation.

Tell donors what they can expect. Give them choices about how often they receive solicitations. Nonprofits may be wise to resist treating every act of generosity as an invitation to inundate a donor’s inbox.

Sheila still supports the organization. But she also has unsubscribed to their emails that simply took up too much of her inbox and her day.

Nonprofits depend on donors. Donors like Sheila depend on nonprofits to know when enough is enough.

Sunday, April 05, 2026

Is it ever OK to name a building after yourself?

When does recognition become a reward, and when does a reward begin to compromise judgment? Based on a recent email from a reader we’re calling Naoise, it’s a question that highlights how public institutions can earn, and sometimes lose, the trust of the communities they serve.

Naoise, who monitors his local junior college district, emailed that the community had overwhelmingly approved a $400 million bond to repair and build campus facilities. The district, he explained, has had a policy since 1985 that buildings could be named for past directors who had provided exemplary service. By limiting naming rights after those who had already served, it sent a signal that the honor was earned rather than bought or self-awarded. The recognition for past contributions celebrated service already rendered.

But the current board did something different. It decided to name some buildings after current board members. Donors also could buy naming rights: $500,000 for a lobby, $1 million for a residence hall. These were not merely ceremonial gestures. They were public assets, tangible and valuable. The move struck Naoise as wrong not only because it went against a longstanding policy, but because now those charged with overseeing construction, approving budgets and evaluating the college president were publicly associated with specific buildings.

Naoise raised the issue at a bond oversight committee meeting. His concern was that the new naming policy raised a clear conflict of interest. In response to his comments, Naoise reported that the board chair berated him for questioning his motives.

Honoring service can be commendable, although naming buildings after people can often result in unintended consequences. We see plenty of examples of this in the current news, but it’s long been an issue. (I and others spoke about such challenges as it relates to naming college buildings in a segment on "CBS News Sunday Morning" 19 years ago.)

Even if board members genuinely believed they could separate pride from judgment, the optics were clear. By placing a current board member’s name on a building, civic engagement and personal recognition have been intertwined. Members of the public might assume that the board’s oversight responsibilities have been influenced by self-interest. The public’s response might result from its perception rather than the board’s intention, but if that perception eroded trust in the board’s motives that trust would be hard to rebuild.

The right thing is for the board to acknowledge that the longstanding naming policy shift raises the possibility of conflicts of interest. Engagement in public service should be driven by wanting to do good for the community, not to boost one’s ego with public recognition.

The board should also honor the naming policy that has been in place for the past 40 years and stick to limiting naming of buildings only to past board members, if they were deserving. If board members want to stray from that policy, they should review the policy and perhaps set up an independent committee to review future naming rights. Through the process, they should make their decisions and rationale clear to the public.

The board chair should also learn to appreciate the role of members of the community like Naoise. Naoise showed courage by insisting on accountability from the board.

Honoring oneself while in power is hardly commendable. Striving for personal prestige should not get in the way of commitment to doing good public service.

Sunday, March 29, 2026

How loyal must a long-term friend be?

At what point does kindness become too much to sustain?

That’s a question facing a long-time reader we’re calling Elvis.

For more than 50 years, Elvis has stayed in touch with a woman he met while serving in the military overseas. They were briefly romantic, but their relationship quickly became a long-distance friendship sustained mostly by monthly phone calls.

Elvis writes that the woman has endured a lifetime of hardship. She has shared those hardships with him for decades. She tells Elvis he is her only friend.

Elvis has tried to be supportive. He helped her navigate the immigration process after she moved to the United States. But the calls, he says, have always been emotionally draining, and lately have become more difficult, partly because his hearing is not what it once was, and he finds it harder to understand her. Their most recent conversation left him exhausted.

He worries that ending contact would devastate her. But he wonders whether continuing the relationship indefinitely—when every conversation leaves him distressed—is the right thing to do.

Longstanding relationships often carry a sense of moral obligation. When we’ve been present for someone through difficult times, it can feel wrong to step back later, especially if that person appears to depend on us. Loyalty and compassion matter.

But so do limits.

Doing the right thing does not require someone to endure endless emotional strain. Elvis has a responsibility for his own well-being. Since helping his friend causes persistent distress, it’s reasonable for him to reconsider if or how he offers help.

But Elvis does not need to limit himself to either continuing the relationship exactly as it was or to abruptly cut off contact.

Perhaps Elvis can try to reshape the relationship in ways that make it sustainable. He might shorten conversations, speak less frequently, or be candid with her that the long phone calls have become tiring and difficult because of his hearing problems. He can be clear but kind in trying to transform their relationship.

He might also encourage his friend to reach out to others. Community groups, neighbors or local activities might offer more support than any one person can be expected to provide.

Continuing a relationship while quietly resenting it rarely helps either party. Resentment tends to erode goodwill and makes conversations feel like obligations rather than acts of kindness.

Elvis has already demonstrated remarkable generosity. Maintaining contact with someone for more than six decades — long after the original circumstances of the relationship changed — is no small thing.

Adjusting the terms of that relationship now would not erase the care he has shown. Instead, it may allow him to remain present in a way that respects both his friend and himself.

Recognizing our own limits can be as much of a virtue as compassion for someone else.

The right thing may lie somewhere between abandoning his friend and sacrificing his own peace of mind forever. Finding a place where kindness and self-care can coexist is not a failure. It just might allow Elvis to continue to be the generous person he has shown himself to be.

Sunday, March 22, 2026

Should consumers be outraged at paying more for less?

Should consumers who eat more at an all-you-can-eat buffet or those who wear a larger size piece of clothing be expected to have to pay more than those who eat less and wear smaller sizes?

Variations on these two questions continue to arrive in emails from readers. They’re also on online discussion boards where someone is incensed that someone is getting more for the same price.

In all cases, it’s up to the retail establishment or restaurant to be clear with prospective customers about the rules of engagement.

Straying from the food or clothing examples for a moment, let’s look at buying a piece of furniture online. Often, you might find a chest of drawers for sale and see a price for it that seems attractive. The item also comes in different finishes and colors. When you click on the finish or color you want, you notice the item is several dollars more expensive. No reason is given for the price variation. It could be based on consumer demand. Perhaps the finish you want costs more to apply. Maybe it’s simply the whim of the retailer. Even if it was the lower price that drew your interest, as long as the retailer is clear about price when you choose the particular item in the style you want, that retailer has done nothing wrong. Hidden prices that are charged after the fact are bad. Upfront prices that a retailer makes known from the outset are fair game.

For all-you-can-eat buffets, a similar rule applies. As long as the restaurant is clear on the rules of the buffet, there’s no harm done – aside from perhaps the food consumed. Some establishments place a time limit on their all-you-can-eat buffet and insist that you can only partake for a set number of hours. Again, that might not seem like it’s really “all-you-can-eat” but as long as the restaurant makes those rules clear to the diners from the outset, it’s done nothing wrong. That some people can eat more at one of these buffets than others has more to do with appetite than fairness. If you’re someone who doesn’t like to eat a lot of food in one sitting, that should be your guide in deciding whether these buffets are really a bargain.

The clothing size conundrum likely falls more into the camp of a retailer deciding that the extra money it costs for materials for a sweater or other garment is nothing compared to the labor and overhead that goes into making and stocking all items. Typically, it costs more to make the clothes than it does to buy the material to make them. Or at least that’s the common argument made. But again, as long as the retailer is clear on its pricing from the outset, there’s no deception involved. Sure, some items might be overpriced for all sizes offered, but consumers have the capacity to decide when something simply costs too much for the perceived value.

In all cases, the right thing is for anyone selling something to be as clear as possible in how much the item will cost the consumer. Consumers do the right thing by deciding how much they are willing to pay for something or when they simply should walk away.