Last August, my wife and I took our two grandsons, Evan and Lucas, to Fenway Park to watch the Red Sox play the Yankees. Evan, then 10, was already a die-hard Red Sox fan. Lucas, then 8, was not as sure of his allegiances.
On the first pitch of the night to leadoff Yankees batter Derek Jeter, Jeter smashed a home run to right center field off Red Sox pitcher Josh Beckett. Lucas immediately turned to the three of us and announced: “I think I’m a Yankees fan.” He has been one ever since.
That Derek Jeter was the impetus for Lucas’ newfound allegiance is no surprise. For years, Jeter has been viewed as an antidote to the number of stories of professional baseball players who took shortcuts to performance by taking steroids. He’s widely viewed as a leader respected by his teammates, competitors and fans.
A little more than a year after Lucas’conversion, I started receiving e-mails in my inbox from friends and readers of my column with variations in the subject line of “Jeter’s a Cheater.” All were asking whether I believed Jeter had crossed the line on that Wednesday night in mid-September when he acted as if a pitch by Tampa Bay Rays’ Chad Qualls had hit his arm. The umpire ruled that the ball did indeed hit Jeter and awarded him first base. The Rays manager argued the call with the umpire and was ejected from the game.
The Rays went on to win the game 4-3, but Jeter’s seventh-inning performance had the sports blogs buzzing. Jeter later admitted that he knew the ball had hit his bat and not him, telling reporters “He told me to go to first base. I’m not going to tell him I’m not going to first, you know.”
My readers wanted to know whether I believed Jeter did the right thing by acting his way onto base.
A bevy of sports analysts weighed in to say that what Jeter did was simply part of the game. “Gamesmanship,” sportscaster Bob Costas called it, arguing to The New York Times that it was of an entirely different ilk than taking steroids or “stealing signs with a pair of binoculars.” Feigning getting hit was, most analysts argued, a long-accepted part of the game.
If ethics is “how we behave when we decide we belong together,” as Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner Rogers argue in their book, A Simpler Way, then Jeter’s actions don’t appear to cross the ethical line in baseball. Cheating outside the park may not be acceptable, but by the norms of the game inside the park, what Jeter did could be seen as both acceptable and emblematic of his tenacious desire to win.
But Jeter had the opportunity to do more in this situation. Just because fudging or feigning is accepted as part of the game, he’s a strong enough player that he shouldn’t need to act his way onto first base by forcing a bad call by an umpire. It’s the rare coach or player who will point out a bad call if it goes against their team’s favor.
The right thing in such incidents as Jeter’s is for a player or coach to decide if they want to win on the merits of their play rather than their ability to cheat the truth. Deciding to win on the merits is a decision that I hope Lucas, who remains a Jeter fan, will make as he advances in his own athletic career.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today’s Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing(at)comcast.net.
© 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
Sunday, October 03, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
PUMP IT RIGHT
When I was about 12 years old, my mother used to do her grocery shopping at a supermarket next to a discount department store in Parsippany, N.J. The department store had an area with pinball machines. While my mother shopped, I’d use the nickels I saved to play as much pinball as I could.
On one occasion, I noticed that one of the pinball machines had free games indicated on its screen. I walked over to play the games and more and more free games registered, even though I hadn’t deposited any money and, near as I could tell, hadn’t scored high enough to win any free games. After about 20 minutes of playing, the guy who took care of the machines came over and told me that the pinball machine was out of order and he needed to service it.
“Did you put any money in that machine?” he asked.
Flustered — and 12 years old — I responded, “Yes.”
I followed his eyes as he looked at the coin slots. All of them were taped over with black electrical tape to keep people from depositing money. I was caught in a lie. I left, partly embarrassed and partly convinced he would ask me to pay for all of the free games I’d played.
The lesson that’s stuck with me since that day is that lying about the small stuff is wrong. If it’s not enough to know that it’s wrong to deceive someone, then rest assured that you never know when a little bit of electrical tape will trip you up.
On the Friday before Labor Day, at just about 6 in the morning, Bryan Drost, a reader who lives near Cleveland, found himself in a situation where he, too, was receiving something for less than he should have paid.
He had stopped at the gas station he frequently visits to fill up. The electronic sign in front of the station indicated that gas was $2.79 a gallon. While he was about to press the fuel-choice button, he noticed that the price at the pump was set to $2.57, the price from the day before.
“Was I obligated to let the management know that the prices were different?” Drost asks. “Would it have made any difference if there was a long line inside and I was late for work?”
The pricing mistake was the service station’s fault, so Drost could have left without saying a word. Proclaiming ignorance would have been a viable response had someone confronted him. (No electrical tape was marring his ability to pay for the gas he pumped.)
But the right thing to do was to let someone know that there was a mistake. If the service station attendant on duty was smart, he’d have thanked Drost but let him pay the lower price. Making the effort is the right thing to do, regardless of whether there’s a line.
And indeed Drost did venture into the small convenience store at the gas station to try to alert management to the price differential, but he couldn’t find anyone.
“It was pretty early in the morning,” he says, “and I’m guessing they only had one person who was working on something else.”
Though unsuccessful, Drost did the right thing by making a concerted effort to set the station right.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today’s Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
© 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
On one occasion, I noticed that one of the pinball machines had free games indicated on its screen. I walked over to play the games and more and more free games registered, even though I hadn’t deposited any money and, near as I could tell, hadn’t scored high enough to win any free games. After about 20 minutes of playing, the guy who took care of the machines came over and told me that the pinball machine was out of order and he needed to service it.
“Did you put any money in that machine?” he asked.
Flustered — and 12 years old — I responded, “Yes.”
I followed his eyes as he looked at the coin slots. All of them were taped over with black electrical tape to keep people from depositing money. I was caught in a lie. I left, partly embarrassed and partly convinced he would ask me to pay for all of the free games I’d played.
The lesson that’s stuck with me since that day is that lying about the small stuff is wrong. If it’s not enough to know that it’s wrong to deceive someone, then rest assured that you never know when a little bit of electrical tape will trip you up.
On the Friday before Labor Day, at just about 6 in the morning, Bryan Drost, a reader who lives near Cleveland, found himself in a situation where he, too, was receiving something for less than he should have paid.
He had stopped at the gas station he frequently visits to fill up. The electronic sign in front of the station indicated that gas was $2.79 a gallon. While he was about to press the fuel-choice button, he noticed that the price at the pump was set to $2.57, the price from the day before.
“Was I obligated to let the management know that the prices were different?” Drost asks. “Would it have made any difference if there was a long line inside and I was late for work?”
The pricing mistake was the service station’s fault, so Drost could have left without saying a word. Proclaiming ignorance would have been a viable response had someone confronted him. (No electrical tape was marring his ability to pay for the gas he pumped.)
But the right thing to do was to let someone know that there was a mistake. If the service station attendant on duty was smart, he’d have thanked Drost but let him pay the lower price. Making the effort is the right thing to do, regardless of whether there’s a line.
And indeed Drost did venture into the small convenience store at the gas station to try to alert management to the price differential, but he couldn’t find anyone.
“It was pretty early in the morning,” he says, “and I’m guessing they only had one person who was working on something else.”
Though unsuccessful, Drost did the right thing by making a concerted effort to set the station right.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today’s Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
© 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
GIVING ACCESS TO THE WRONG SIGNAL
Shortly after we made an offer to buy a house a few years ago, my wife and I were driving through the small village where the property was located. It was lunchtime and, given that we had already bombarded our Realtor with questions in person, we felt it was best to pose our remaining questions by e-mail.
I had my laptop with me and had read somewhere that the village had set up wireless hotspots throughout town for resident access. Unfortunately, I couldn't detect any of these spots with my laptop. But after we parked in the lot of a sandwich place for lunch, I did notice that there was an unsecured Wi-Fi connection available, presumably from a nearby business.
I connected successfully and sent off the e-mail to our Realtor before we headed in to grab a sandwich.
A recent e-mail from E.W., a reader from Ohio, reminded me of my parking lot Wi-Fi adventures.
E.W. recently bought a Wi-Fi capable laptop computer. "Right out of the box," he writes, "I realized that my apartment complex was a hot spot with three or four Wi-Fi connections to access around the complex. This got me thinking: Why pay for my own Internet service when I can sponge off of these folks?"
When E.W. surveyed his friends about tapping into the available Wi-Fi spots, the reaction was decidedly mixed. Some thought it was OK, while others told him it would be dishonest.
Ultimately, E.W. says he "minimally" borrowed his neighbors' Wi-Fi access for the week it took to get his own wireless service installed.
Still, he wants to know if it was wrong to tap into other's unsecured Wi-Fi signals.
I wrote about the Wi-Fi issue several years ago and still maintain that it was perfectly fine to tap into an unsecured Wi-Fi signal. Planning to do so for the long term may be impractical since you never know when neighbors may decide to make their signal secure and leave you without a connection. But my take -- much to the chagrin of many readers -- remains that the right thing for Wi-Fi users to do if they don't want others using their signals is to take the simple steps necessary to make it password protected. It's never OK to try to gain access to a signal that is clearly identified as secured.
Of course, some municipalities may have regulations forbidding users to access any signal that is not their own and users should abide by these laws. But absent these, I believe it is the Wi-Fi signal owner's responsibility to shut the door on others using his signal if he doesn't want them to.
One thing has changed since the last time I responded to a reader's question about using someone else's signal. At the time, I hadn't set up my own Wi-Fi signal as password protected. Now I do . . . because I'd rather not have visitor traffic slowing down my access. If you don't want others accessing your Wi-Fi signal, it's your responsibility not to invite them in by having an unsecured signal.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
(c) 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.
I had my laptop with me and had read somewhere that the village had set up wireless hotspots throughout town for resident access. Unfortunately, I couldn't detect any of these spots with my laptop. But after we parked in the lot of a sandwich place for lunch, I did notice that there was an unsecured Wi-Fi connection available, presumably from a nearby business.
I connected successfully and sent off the e-mail to our Realtor before we headed in to grab a sandwich.
A recent e-mail from E.W., a reader from Ohio, reminded me of my parking lot Wi-Fi adventures.
E.W. recently bought a Wi-Fi capable laptop computer. "Right out of the box," he writes, "I realized that my apartment complex was a hot spot with three or four Wi-Fi connections to access around the complex. This got me thinking: Why pay for my own Internet service when I can sponge off of these folks?"
When E.W. surveyed his friends about tapping into the available Wi-Fi spots, the reaction was decidedly mixed. Some thought it was OK, while others told him it would be dishonest.
Ultimately, E.W. says he "minimally" borrowed his neighbors' Wi-Fi access for the week it took to get his own wireless service installed.
Still, he wants to know if it was wrong to tap into other's unsecured Wi-Fi signals.
I wrote about the Wi-Fi issue several years ago and still maintain that it was perfectly fine to tap into an unsecured Wi-Fi signal. Planning to do so for the long term may be impractical since you never know when neighbors may decide to make their signal secure and leave you without a connection. But my take -- much to the chagrin of many readers -- remains that the right thing for Wi-Fi users to do if they don't want others using their signals is to take the simple steps necessary to make it password protected. It's never OK to try to gain access to a signal that is clearly identified as secured.
Of course, some municipalities may have regulations forbidding users to access any signal that is not their own and users should abide by these laws. But absent these, I believe it is the Wi-Fi signal owner's responsibility to shut the door on others using his signal if he doesn't want them to.
One thing has changed since the last time I responded to a reader's question about using someone else's signal. At the time, I hadn't set up my own Wi-Fi signal as password protected. Now I do . . . because I'd rather not have visitor traffic slowing down my access. If you don't want others accessing your Wi-Fi signal, it's your responsibility not to invite them in by having an unsecured signal.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
(c) 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
WHY CAN'T I PAY FOR THIS DIAMOND?
Forty years ago, J.B., a reader from Columbus, Ohio, was a newlywed happily beginning married life. One day, J.B. received a distraught call from his wife. As she was sweeping some flower trimmings into the garbage disposal, she inadvertently swept her engagement ring into it, as well.
J.B. told his wife not to run anything else through the disposal — including water — until he could get home to take a look at it. “When I pulled the debris out of the disposal,” he writes, “the mangled mounting was recovered, but the one-carat flawless center stone was missing.”
J.B. completely disassembled the disposal, but could not find the missing diamond. Fortunately, the ring was insured and he notified the insurance company, which paid them to have the ring replaced.
Two years later, as his wife opened a seldom-used kitchen window to wipe out the sill, she found the lost diamond stuck between the window and the sill. Apparently, it had been expelled from the disposal in the process of being ripped from its mounting. “It was a little worse for the wear as it had a small chip in the girdle,” writes J.B. Since their homeowners policy was with the same insurance agency, he immediately called his agent to report the finding.
Because it had sentimental value, J.B. and his wife wanted to keep the diamond. But they asked that it be reappraised with the chip in it and they would agree to pay the insurance company based on its value. The insurance agent was taken aback and said he had never handled anything like this before, but that he would get back to J.B. Weeks passed, and after making several more calls without response, J.B. mailed his agent a registered letter requesting resolution of the matter. Still no response.
J.B. then called the insurance company directly and explained the situation to the head of the claims department. He, too, said they’d never had someone notify them of a recovery after a claim was paid, but that he would look into how to resolve it. More weeks passed and no response. J.B. sent the company a registered letter, as well.
As the years passed and no response seemed forthcoming, J.B.’s wife had the stone remounted. J.B. realizes that the stone belongs to the insurance company, but it also has great sentimental value to his wife.
J.B. believes he went beyond making a good-faith effort to resolve the issue. “To this day,” he writes, “part of me feels I should have sent the stone to them, but I am equally positive we would never have seen it again.”
"Your thoughts?” he asks.
Except for dropping the diamond ring into the disposal, J.B. and his wife did the right thing by persistently contacting their insurance company. They went out of their way to try to compensate their insurer for finding the lost ring and the company dropped the ball. They should feel absolutely no guilt.
As testament to his honorable intentions, J.B. writes: “My offer stands should the insurance company choose to contact me today.”
After 40 years, if that isn’t honorable, what is?
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today’s Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
© 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
J.B. told his wife not to run anything else through the disposal — including water — until he could get home to take a look at it. “When I pulled the debris out of the disposal,” he writes, “the mangled mounting was recovered, but the one-carat flawless center stone was missing.”
J.B. completely disassembled the disposal, but could not find the missing diamond. Fortunately, the ring was insured and he notified the insurance company, which paid them to have the ring replaced.
Two years later, as his wife opened a seldom-used kitchen window to wipe out the sill, she found the lost diamond stuck between the window and the sill. Apparently, it had been expelled from the disposal in the process of being ripped from its mounting. “It was a little worse for the wear as it had a small chip in the girdle,” writes J.B. Since their homeowners policy was with the same insurance agency, he immediately called his agent to report the finding.
Because it had sentimental value, J.B. and his wife wanted to keep the diamond. But they asked that it be reappraised with the chip in it and they would agree to pay the insurance company based on its value. The insurance agent was taken aback and said he had never handled anything like this before, but that he would get back to J.B. Weeks passed, and after making several more calls without response, J.B. mailed his agent a registered letter requesting resolution of the matter. Still no response.
J.B. then called the insurance company directly and explained the situation to the head of the claims department. He, too, said they’d never had someone notify them of a recovery after a claim was paid, but that he would look into how to resolve it. More weeks passed and no response. J.B. sent the company a registered letter, as well.
As the years passed and no response seemed forthcoming, J.B.’s wife had the stone remounted. J.B. realizes that the stone belongs to the insurance company, but it also has great sentimental value to his wife.
J.B. believes he went beyond making a good-faith effort to resolve the issue. “To this day,” he writes, “part of me feels I should have sent the stone to them, but I am equally positive we would never have seen it again.”
"Your thoughts?” he asks.
Except for dropping the diamond ring into the disposal, J.B. and his wife did the right thing by persistently contacting their insurance company. They went out of their way to try to compensate their insurer for finding the lost ring and the company dropped the ball. They should feel absolutely no guilt.
As testament to his honorable intentions, J.B. writes: “My offer stands should the insurance company choose to contact me today.”
After 40 years, if that isn’t honorable, what is?
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today’s Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
© 2010 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE MEDIA SERVICES, INC.
Monday, September 06, 2010
THE RIGHT THING: MONEY FOR NOTHING
At the beginning of July, a reader quit the company where she’d been working for several years. A couple of weeks after she received her final paycheck as a direct deposit into her bank account, she noticed that another paycheck had been deposited. Then two weeks later, still another paycheck deposit had been made to her account.
While she’s only received two “extra” paychecks so far, she writes, “I haven’t really spent them,” although she immediately admits, “OK, just a little bit, but it’s recoverable.”
Now, she says, she finds herself in an ethical quandary.
“I know, one should always be ethical,” she writes. “But when you're faced with debt and suddenly there's free money, it's a threat to one's morals sometimes. I'm a very ethical person 99.5 percent of the time. But when it comes to money, the temptation can be a very tricky thing to deal with.”
My reader writes that part of her wants to call up her former employer and tell them about the mistake. “But then I’d lose that money” she writes, acknowledging that she knows the money is not really hers. “Another part of me says, ‘Wait and see. Let them figure it out and stop it eventually.’”
Some friends have advised her to hold onto the money and do nothing. Others have encouraged her to call the company and return the money as soon as possible.
“I just can’t quite decide,” she writes. “Even if I return the money, what about the taxes being withheld from the checks? I don’t have that money. The government does. How would the company recoup that?”
As tempting as it might be for her to do otherwise, the right thing for my reader to do is to notify her former employer and return the money. Legal issues aside, she acknowledges the money is not hers and that the deposits being made into her account are a mistake.
That she spent any of the money, however small, while knowing it wasn’t really hers was wrong.
Her concern about “losing the money” if she notified her former bosses is misplaced. She can’t lose what isn’t really hers, no matter how tempting the sudden arrival of “free” money might be.
Worrying about how the taxes withheld from her erroneous paychecks is a distraction that doesn’t excuse her from setting the record straight. She certainly can’t be expected to repay the company money it withheld for taxes…but she shouldn’t use that issue as an excuse to delay putting the money back in its right hands.
Whether or not she’s facing debt and regardless of her fondness for someone placing extra cash into her account, no good can come from keeping what she knows doesn’t belong to her. If the ethics of such a decision don’t cause her to do the right thing, then perhaps the concern about how she is going to come up with the money to repay her former company after it discovers its mistake should.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business" (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
c.2010 Jeffrey L. Seglin
While she’s only received two “extra” paychecks so far, she writes, “I haven’t really spent them,” although she immediately admits, “OK, just a little bit, but it’s recoverable.”
Now, she says, she finds herself in an ethical quandary.
“I know, one should always be ethical,” she writes. “But when you're faced with debt and suddenly there's free money, it's a threat to one's morals sometimes. I'm a very ethical person 99.5 percent of the time. But when it comes to money, the temptation can be a very tricky thing to deal with.”
My reader writes that part of her wants to call up her former employer and tell them about the mistake. “But then I’d lose that money” she writes, acknowledging that she knows the money is not really hers. “Another part of me says, ‘Wait and see. Let them figure it out and stop it eventually.’”
Some friends have advised her to hold onto the money and do nothing. Others have encouraged her to call the company and return the money as soon as possible.
“I just can’t quite decide,” she writes. “Even if I return the money, what about the taxes being withheld from the checks? I don’t have that money. The government does. How would the company recoup that?”
As tempting as it might be for her to do otherwise, the right thing for my reader to do is to notify her former employer and return the money. Legal issues aside, she acknowledges the money is not hers and that the deposits being made into her account are a mistake.
That she spent any of the money, however small, while knowing it wasn’t really hers was wrong.
Her concern about “losing the money” if she notified her former bosses is misplaced. She can’t lose what isn’t really hers, no matter how tempting the sudden arrival of “free” money might be.
Worrying about how the taxes withheld from her erroneous paychecks is a distraction that doesn’t excuse her from setting the record straight. She certainly can’t be expected to repay the company money it withheld for taxes…but she shouldn’t use that issue as an excuse to delay putting the money back in its right hands.
Whether or not she’s facing debt and regardless of her fondness for someone placing extra cash into her account, no good can come from keeping what she knows doesn’t belong to her. If the ethics of such a decision don’t cause her to do the right thing, then perhaps the concern about how she is going to come up with the money to repay her former company after it discovers its mistake should.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business" (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
c.2010 Jeffrey L. Seglin
Monday, August 30, 2010
SOUND OFF: WHEN BAD PEOPLE HAPPEN TO GOOD EMPLOYEES
A supervisor with whom you've worked is up for a promotion. As part of the routine of the promotion process, his superiors send an e-mail to all company employees asking for any feedback on the fellow's performance and his suitability for the job.
You happen to know that the guy has been less than a stellar supervisor, failing to show up for appointments, bullying employees, playing fast and loose with his expense reports and hiring family members for positions once held by more competent employees. Based on past history at the company, however, you also know that, once things get to this stage of the promotion cycle, they are pretty much a done deal. Anything you raise as an issue is likely to fall on deaf ears.
Should you respond honestly and fully to the e-mail, including all the supervisor's blemishes that you can document? Or, figuring that this is a battle not worth waging, should you make no response?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@comcast.net.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
c.2010 Jeffrey L. Seglin
You happen to know that the guy has been less than a stellar supervisor, failing to show up for appointments, bullying employees, playing fast and loose with his expense reports and hiring family members for positions once held by more competent employees. Based on past history at the company, however, you also know that, once things get to this stage of the promotion cycle, they are pretty much a done deal. Anything you raise as an issue is likely to fall on deaf ears.
Should you respond honestly and fully to the e-mail, including all the supervisor's blemishes that you can document? Or, figuring that this is a battle not worth waging, should you make no response?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@comcast.net.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
c.2010 Jeffrey L. Seglin
THE RIGHT THING: THE WHOLE TRUTH
There's an all-volunteer newspaper located in a town about 25 miles southeast of Los Angeles. The newspaper has been around for 30 years, established as a not-for-profit enterprise designed to inform and "empower" local residents to become engaged in their community. Every week about 10,000 copies are distributed to area residents.
One of the newspaper's volunteer reporters e-mailed me about a predicament in which she has found herself.
My reader has some journalistic training in her distant past, but the editor/publisher of the paper, who inherited the job from her father, has no such training. Recently they found themselves at odds over a question of journalistic ethics.
My reader was assigned to cover a meeting at which a city agency invited "stakeholders" to discuss housing issues. At the meeting one man introduced himself as representing a local volunteer agency.
"He said some ugly things," my reader reports, "like objecting to being told by the state that our affluent city should provide housing for the poor."
He also referred to certain areas of the city as "dumps."
When my reader filed her report on the meeting, the editor/publisher cut from her story the man's affiliation with the local agency.
"They do good work," she said, "and shouldn't be dragged through the mud for one person's opinion."
"This does not feel good to me," my reader writes. "We criticize a lot of what the city and some businesspeople do. Shouldn't the do-gooders be equally accountable?"
Since this man's organization was invited to the meeting and he was sent to represent it, she believes that both his comments and his affiliation are fair game.
"Is the editor's action unacceptable?" she asks. "Are there limits I should set for my work?"
My reader's editor has every right to be concerned about fairness. If the speaker at the meeting was identified as the spokesperson for the group in question, however, that affiliation should be mentioned. Were his comments strictly "one person's opinion," he wouldn't have been invited to the meeting. Whether or not his remarks accurately reflect the organization's positions, he was there as its representative.
The editor's action is unacceptable, because she responded to a reasonable concern but didn't address that concern. If she was truly concerned about how this representative's comments might reflect on his organization, the right thing to do would have been to instruct my reader to do some follow-up reporting. She ought to have called the organization to see if it wanted to respond to his comments or to clarify the organization's position.
The fault is not entirely the editor's, however. If my reader wasn't asked to do this extra research, she should have suggested it. In fact, she should have made that effort in her initial reporting. The apparent conflict between the organization's ideals and the attitudes of its representative cried out for further exploration.
Simply printing the gentleman's comments without reporting his affiliation was poor reporting, since it didn't accurately reflect what happened at the meeting. Everyone there knew that he was indeed speaking on behalf of this particular organization, and the newspaper ought to have conveyed this relevant information to its readers.
As far as my reader setting limitations on her work, any writer working for a publication - whether volunteer or paid, whether covering politics or, say, writing an ethics column - is at the behest of the editor to whom he or she reports. Good editors will push their writers to do their best and most accurate work.
Unfortunately, not all writers are as thorough as their editors would like them to be, nor are they all blessed with good editors. The whole point of having two people in the process is to see that the best of each is reflected in the final product - which doesn't seem to have happened in this case.
c.2010 Jeffrey L. Seglin
One of the newspaper's volunteer reporters e-mailed me about a predicament in which she has found herself.
My reader has some journalistic training in her distant past, but the editor/publisher of the paper, who inherited the job from her father, has no such training. Recently they found themselves at odds over a question of journalistic ethics.
My reader was assigned to cover a meeting at which a city agency invited "stakeholders" to discuss housing issues. At the meeting one man introduced himself as representing a local volunteer agency.
"He said some ugly things," my reader reports, "like objecting to being told by the state that our affluent city should provide housing for the poor."
He also referred to certain areas of the city as "dumps."
When my reader filed her report on the meeting, the editor/publisher cut from her story the man's affiliation with the local agency.
"They do good work," she said, "and shouldn't be dragged through the mud for one person's opinion."
"This does not feel good to me," my reader writes. "We criticize a lot of what the city and some businesspeople do. Shouldn't the do-gooders be equally accountable?"
Since this man's organization was invited to the meeting and he was sent to represent it, she believes that both his comments and his affiliation are fair game.
"Is the editor's action unacceptable?" she asks. "Are there limits I should set for my work?"
My reader's editor has every right to be concerned about fairness. If the speaker at the meeting was identified as the spokesperson for the group in question, however, that affiliation should be mentioned. Were his comments strictly "one person's opinion," he wouldn't have been invited to the meeting. Whether or not his remarks accurately reflect the organization's positions, he was there as its representative.
The editor's action is unacceptable, because she responded to a reasonable concern but didn't address that concern. If she was truly concerned about how this representative's comments might reflect on his organization, the right thing to do would have been to instruct my reader to do some follow-up reporting. She ought to have called the organization to see if it wanted to respond to his comments or to clarify the organization's position.
The fault is not entirely the editor's, however. If my reader wasn't asked to do this extra research, she should have suggested it. In fact, she should have made that effort in her initial reporting. The apparent conflict between the organization's ideals and the attitudes of its representative cried out for further exploration.
Simply printing the gentleman's comments without reporting his affiliation was poor reporting, since it didn't accurately reflect what happened at the meeting. Everyone there knew that he was indeed speaking on behalf of this particular organization, and the newspaper ought to have conveyed this relevant information to its readers.
As far as my reader setting limitations on her work, any writer working for a publication - whether volunteer or paid, whether covering politics or, say, writing an ethics column - is at the behest of the editor to whom he or she reports. Good editors will push their writers to do their best and most accurate work.
Unfortunately, not all writers are as thorough as their editors would like them to be, nor are they all blessed with good editors. The whole point of having two people in the process is to see that the best of each is reflected in the final product - which doesn't seem to have happened in this case.
c.2010 Jeffrey L. Seglin
Sunday, August 22, 2010
THE RIGHT THING: WATERED-DOWN ETHICS
In the town where I live, residents are asked to follow voluntary water restrictions. To conserve water we are asked, among other things, not to water down our sidewalks or patios and to limit the watering of lawns to every other day - depending on our house numbers - between 7 at night and 7 in the morning.
The notice of these restrictions on the town's Web site makes clear that they are not mandatory, but that "water conservation is always a good plan."
Generally speaking, my family and I have chosen to adhere to the voluntary restrictions. We notice a few area residents who do water their lawns during the daytime, but that's a choice they make. Because the restrictions are voluntary, it's none of our business.
A reader in New York writes that years ago, when his area was suffering a drought, the local government banned lawn watering altogether and also issued a list of recommended water-saving measures, which included not letting the water run while brushing your teeth.
"A friend of mine insisted that he would continue to let the water run, because he was paying for the water and this was the way he was used to brushing his teeth," my reader writes. "He didn't like being told what to do in so personal a matter, regardless of the circumstances."
My reader tells me that he has occasionally thought about his friend's response in later years, "as environmental concerns have escalated and various methods of reducing one's environmental impact have proliferated."
He observes that a number of religions, in one way or another, impose an ethical obligation to consider the environment, which can be done by various means, from shunning high-pollution cars to installing insulation that will reduce energy use.
"Would you say, however, that in the world of today there is a general ethical obligation to consider one's environmental impact and reduce it when possible?," he asks. "Or is this still a matter of personal choice?"
By virtue of the fact that any of us can choose to act any way in any given situation, regardless of the ethics of our behavior or the potential consequences, most choices boil down to personal ones. That has been and still is the case with environmental issues. Outside of legal requirements, there is no general ethical obligation in this area and we cannot demand that others comply with our own personal ethics.
If ethics is, as the authors Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner Rogers write in A Simpler Way (Berrett-Koehler, 1999), "how we behave when we decide we belong together," however, then my reader's friend fell short of the mark by not considering the impact of his choices on his community at large. So far as we know, he did seem to follow the mandatory restrictions, so he didn't challenge the ethics of the mandate by adhering to his personal lawn-watering choice.
After considering how his actions might affect others, the water-running, tooth-brushing friend might still decide to adhere to his customary practice. Without thinking through how his behavior might impede others, however, he wasn't doing the right thing.
When there's a clear recognition that a particular action has a deleterious impact on others in our community, it falls on each of us at least to consider that we may have an ethical obligation to avoid that action. To act without thinking, through sheer force of habit, runs counter to the whole idea of ethics.
The notice of these restrictions on the town's Web site makes clear that they are not mandatory, but that "water conservation is always a good plan."
Generally speaking, my family and I have chosen to adhere to the voluntary restrictions. We notice a few area residents who do water their lawns during the daytime, but that's a choice they make. Because the restrictions are voluntary, it's none of our business.
A reader in New York writes that years ago, when his area was suffering a drought, the local government banned lawn watering altogether and also issued a list of recommended water-saving measures, which included not letting the water run while brushing your teeth.
"A friend of mine insisted that he would continue to let the water run, because he was paying for the water and this was the way he was used to brushing his teeth," my reader writes. "He didn't like being told what to do in so personal a matter, regardless of the circumstances."
My reader tells me that he has occasionally thought about his friend's response in later years, "as environmental concerns have escalated and various methods of reducing one's environmental impact have proliferated."
He observes that a number of religions, in one way or another, impose an ethical obligation to consider the environment, which can be done by various means, from shunning high-pollution cars to installing insulation that will reduce energy use.
"Would you say, however, that in the world of today there is a general ethical obligation to consider one's environmental impact and reduce it when possible?," he asks. "Or is this still a matter of personal choice?"
By virtue of the fact that any of us can choose to act any way in any given situation, regardless of the ethics of our behavior or the potential consequences, most choices boil down to personal ones. That has been and still is the case with environmental issues. Outside of legal requirements, there is no general ethical obligation in this area and we cannot demand that others comply with our own personal ethics.
If ethics is, as the authors Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner Rogers write in A Simpler Way (Berrett-Koehler, 1999), "how we behave when we decide we belong together," however, then my reader's friend fell short of the mark by not considering the impact of his choices on his community at large. So far as we know, he did seem to follow the mandatory restrictions, so he didn't challenge the ethics of the mandate by adhering to his personal lawn-watering choice.
After considering how his actions might affect others, the water-running, tooth-brushing friend might still decide to adhere to his customary practice. Without thinking through how his behavior might impede others, however, he wasn't doing the right thing.
When there's a clear recognition that a particular action has a deleterious impact on others in our community, it falls on each of us at least to consider that we may have an ethical obligation to avoid that action. To act without thinking, through sheer force of habit, runs counter to the whole idea of ethics.
SOUND OFF: GRADING UP
Of the readers who responded to an unscientific poll on my column's blog, 61 percent believe that it was wrong for Loyola Law School to raise its recent graduates' grades retroactively, even if other law schools grade less rigorously, while 39 percent consider it OK to raise the grades.
"Law firms would be aware that a school was more rigorous in its grading policies, and would be able to weigh candidates with that criteria in mind," writes Madilyn Bruening of Salt Lake City, Utah. "Isn't that the reason some schools are more prestigious than others, because they have a more difficult curriculum?"
William Jacobson of Cypress, Calif., considers such post-grade inflation to be an act of fraud.
"The retroactive raising of GPAs by the law school, with the sole purpose of making their students `look more attractive' to outside employers, would appear to be ... a false misrepresentation of fact done specifically to deceive said employers into considering students who otherwise might not be considered ... Despite the popular misconception, lawyers are held to high ethical standards ... so should the law schools be."
Check out other opinions here, or post your own by clicking on "Comments" or "Post a comment" below.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
"Law firms would be aware that a school was more rigorous in its grading policies, and would be able to weigh candidates with that criteria in mind," writes Madilyn Bruening of Salt Lake City, Utah. "Isn't that the reason some schools are more prestigious than others, because they have a more difficult curriculum?"
William Jacobson of Cypress, Calif., considers such post-grade inflation to be an act of fraud.
"The retroactive raising of GPAs by the law school, with the sole purpose of making their students `look more attractive' to outside employers, would appear to be ... a false misrepresentation of fact done specifically to deceive said employers into considering students who otherwise might not be considered ... Despite the popular misconception, lawyers are held to high ethical standards ... so should the law schools be."
Check out other opinions here, or post your own by clicking on "Comments" or "Post a comment" below.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
SOUND OFF: LOOSE LIPS
While sitting on the lawn at a recent Cape Cod Baseball League game, I overheard a woman behind me talking to another fan about her job as a fund raiser at a private high school in Boston. Asked whether she knew a particular local business owner, she replied, "Oh, I know him. He's good for a $10,000 donation every year."
Lists of donors to many not-for-profit organizations are regularly published, and there's no reason to assume that the donor in question wanted to remain anonymous. Even so, was my fellow fan in fair territory when discussing donors by name - and amounts - in a public setting? Or was she wrong to be so free with the information? Or is the real culprit here the fellow fan - me - for inadvertently listening in on what was presumably meant to be a private conversation, regardless of where it took place?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@nytimes.com.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of The Right Thing (http://www.jeffreyseglin.com/, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Lists of donors to many not-for-profit organizations are regularly published, and there's no reason to assume that the donor in question wanted to remain anonymous. Even so, was my fellow fan in fair territory when discussing donors by name - and amounts - in a public setting? Or was she wrong to be so free with the information? Or is the real culprit here the fellow fan - me - for inadvertently listening in on what was presumably meant to be a private conversation, regardless of where it took place?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@nytimes.com.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of The Right Thing (http://www.jeffreyseglin.com/, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
THE RIGHT THING: BARKING MAD
About two months ago a woman moved to Miami to take a new job. A month later her brother came to visit from another city, bringing with him his small dog, which his sister had agreed to take in for him temporarily. He travels a great deal for work and couldn't handle having a pet at the moment.
The sister didn't want a dog and wouldn't describe herself as a "pet person," but she wanted to help out her sibling, so she agreed to take the dog.
They did not, however, discuss when her brother might retrieve his dog. The unspoken agreement was that the dog would be returned to him at some point, although that could be months or years away. He left some food for the dog, but it soon became his sister's responsibility to care for the dog.
The sister soon realized that caring for a pet is "a pain" and not something she wants to do. The dog barks a great deal, she reports, and moreover she has a housemate who has her own dog. The two-pet household "can be a handful at times."
About a week ago the situation got even more complicated: Her housemate called her, out of the blue, to tell her that a mutual friend would be happy to take the brother's dog. The sister was taken by surprise, since she had no idea that her housemate was making any effort to have the dog taken off their hands.
It bothers the sister that her roommate brought up the issue with an outside party before discussing it with her, but the idea appeals to her because it would enable her to give up responsibility for the dog while still having access to it and knowing that it was being taken care of by their mutual friend, who loves pets.
While a big part of her wants to get rid of the dog, however, she doesn't know how or if to tell her brother the news, or even if she has the right to give away his dog, even though she is the one who is now spending her time and money to care for it.
She senses that, if she keeps the dog, her brother won't want it back for quite some time. She also assumes that, if he ever did want it back, the mutual friend would "probably" give the dog back to her brother. And then another part of her wants to keep the dog herself, simply to get even with her roommate for going behind her back to get rid of the animal.
What's the right course in this complicated situation?
The sister is asking the wrong questions in trying to figure out how to respond to the mutual friend's offer. Clearly she still thinks of the dog as belonging to her brother, so before doing anything else she needs to check with him to see what his wishes are.
Simply giving away the dog without letting him know should not be an option. It was placed in her care, but not given to her as a gift ... or as a curse. The brother is still the rightful owner, so it's up to him whether the mutual friend - who might well provide the dog a better home - should get that opportunity.
If he OKs the arrangement with the mutual friend, the sister should make sure that the friend understands the situation and realizes that the dog still belongs to her brother, who may well want it back someday.
As for keeping the dog to "get even" with her roommate, given that she doesn't really like caring for the dog herself, that resolution would be in nobody's - and no dog's - best interest.
The overarching lesson here is that it's important to be clear on the specifics when you agree to do a favor for a loved one, especially when another living being is involved. Having not done that initially, the sister needs to do so now.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate) ¶
The sister didn't want a dog and wouldn't describe herself as a "pet person," but she wanted to help out her sibling, so she agreed to take the dog.
They did not, however, discuss when her brother might retrieve his dog. The unspoken agreement was that the dog would be returned to him at some point, although that could be months or years away. He left some food for the dog, but it soon became his sister's responsibility to care for the dog.
The sister soon realized that caring for a pet is "a pain" and not something she wants to do. The dog barks a great deal, she reports, and moreover she has a housemate who has her own dog. The two-pet household "can be a handful at times."
About a week ago the situation got even more complicated: Her housemate called her, out of the blue, to tell her that a mutual friend would be happy to take the brother's dog. The sister was taken by surprise, since she had no idea that her housemate was making any effort to have the dog taken off their hands.
It bothers the sister that her roommate brought up the issue with an outside party before discussing it with her, but the idea appeals to her because it would enable her to give up responsibility for the dog while still having access to it and knowing that it was being taken care of by their mutual friend, who loves pets.
While a big part of her wants to get rid of the dog, however, she doesn't know how or if to tell her brother the news, or even if she has the right to give away his dog, even though she is the one who is now spending her time and money to care for it.
She senses that, if she keeps the dog, her brother won't want it back for quite some time. She also assumes that, if he ever did want it back, the mutual friend would "probably" give the dog back to her brother. And then another part of her wants to keep the dog herself, simply to get even with her roommate for going behind her back to get rid of the animal.
What's the right course in this complicated situation?
The sister is asking the wrong questions in trying to figure out how to respond to the mutual friend's offer. Clearly she still thinks of the dog as belonging to her brother, so before doing anything else she needs to check with him to see what his wishes are.
Simply giving away the dog without letting him know should not be an option. It was placed in her care, but not given to her as a gift ... or as a curse. The brother is still the rightful owner, so it's up to him whether the mutual friend - who might well provide the dog a better home - should get that opportunity.
If he OKs the arrangement with the mutual friend, the sister should make sure that the friend understands the situation and realizes that the dog still belongs to her brother, who may well want it back someday.
As for keeping the dog to "get even" with her roommate, given that she doesn't really like caring for the dog herself, that resolution would be in nobody's - and no dog's - best interest.
The overarching lesson here is that it's important to be clear on the specifics when you agree to do a favor for a loved one, especially when another living being is involved. Having not done that initially, the sister needs to do so now.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate) ¶
Sunday, August 08, 2010
THE RIGHT THING: BUGS IN THE SYSTEM
Having to replace a company you hate doing business with can be a real pain, but the contract-renewal process should be fairly simple. After all, if you're happy with them and they're happy with you, where's the problem?
Nonetheless Peter, a reader from Manila in the Philippines, has managed to find a catch.
Peter likes the service his company receives from the termite-control company it has retained to ensure that its premises are free of pesky pests. The annual contract calls for the exterminators to check out Peter's facility every month, even if no pests have been spotted in the interim, to make sure that the premises are free and clear. If termites are detected, the pest-control company eradicates them. Like clockwork, the exterminators show up to do their job.
Their home office is not so efficient, however, about getting a new contract to Peter's company for renewal each year.
"Every year we have to remind them two or three times to send a contract," Peter writes.
Though a new contract has not been signed, however, and technically there is no agreement between the companies, the work still carries on.
"Their field personnel continue to go to our place," Peter says. "Obviously it is the administrative personnel who is not preparing the paperwork."
The same thing happened this year, but with a significant difference: Once again the contract has lapsed, but this time Peter and his colleagues have not reminded the termite company about the renewal - meaning that, for the past couple of months, they haven't been billed for the services they're receiving.
"We have always been honest in the past," Peter writes, "but feel that, if they don't bear the consequences of their negligence, they will never shape up. Are we justified not to remind them anymore and enjoy the free service until they find out?"
Having to remind a vendor to bill you can indeed be a nuisance. There's simply something wrong about having to chase people to give them money. It's their job to bill you in a timely manner and, when it comes time for contract renewal, it's their job to see that it gets done.
There's obviously some satisfaction to be gained by withholding payment from the termite-control company until such time, if ever, that its administrators realize that they've been working for free. I'm not convinced, however, that it would actually get them to change their poor management of existing contracts. Presumably their ineptitude has cost them in the past, but not enough to get them to shape up.
More broadly, it is wrong to take advantage of their inefficiency to get free service. However vexing their inability to follow through may be, it's no excuse for Peter and his company to get service that they're not paying for and, therefore, not entitled to. Getting something for nothing is only occasionally the ethical route, and this isn't one of those times.
If Peter's colleagues are sufficiently vexed by the exterminators' habitual laxness with contracts, they have every right to not re-up and instead find another company that's more to their liking. If the current company asks why they're making a change, they should answer truthfully.
If they're overall satisfied with the services being provided, however, they should simply accept that a once-a-year headache is part of the cost of doing business with this company. They can and should strongly voice their dissatisfaction at having to remind the company every year when the contract comes due, but not paying for what they're getting isn't a fair way to express their annoyance.
Personally, I'd bite the bullet and carry on as in past years. Nagging the exterminators to send you a contract once a year is surely aggravating, but I imagine it pales in comparison to the problems of dealing with a company that sends its contracts promptly but does a lousy job on the actual termite control.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Nonetheless Peter, a reader from Manila in the Philippines, has managed to find a catch.
Peter likes the service his company receives from the termite-control company it has retained to ensure that its premises are free of pesky pests. The annual contract calls for the exterminators to check out Peter's facility every month, even if no pests have been spotted in the interim, to make sure that the premises are free and clear. If termites are detected, the pest-control company eradicates them. Like clockwork, the exterminators show up to do their job.
Their home office is not so efficient, however, about getting a new contract to Peter's company for renewal each year.
"Every year we have to remind them two or three times to send a contract," Peter writes.
Though a new contract has not been signed, however, and technically there is no agreement between the companies, the work still carries on.
"Their field personnel continue to go to our place," Peter says. "Obviously it is the administrative personnel who is not preparing the paperwork."
The same thing happened this year, but with a significant difference: Once again the contract has lapsed, but this time Peter and his colleagues have not reminded the termite company about the renewal - meaning that, for the past couple of months, they haven't been billed for the services they're receiving.
"We have always been honest in the past," Peter writes, "but feel that, if they don't bear the consequences of their negligence, they will never shape up. Are we justified not to remind them anymore and enjoy the free service until they find out?"
Having to remind a vendor to bill you can indeed be a nuisance. There's simply something wrong about having to chase people to give them money. It's their job to bill you in a timely manner and, when it comes time for contract renewal, it's their job to see that it gets done.
There's obviously some satisfaction to be gained by withholding payment from the termite-control company until such time, if ever, that its administrators realize that they've been working for free. I'm not convinced, however, that it would actually get them to change their poor management of existing contracts. Presumably their ineptitude has cost them in the past, but not enough to get them to shape up.
More broadly, it is wrong to take advantage of their inefficiency to get free service. However vexing their inability to follow through may be, it's no excuse for Peter and his company to get service that they're not paying for and, therefore, not entitled to. Getting something for nothing is only occasionally the ethical route, and this isn't one of those times.
If Peter's colleagues are sufficiently vexed by the exterminators' habitual laxness with contracts, they have every right to not re-up and instead find another company that's more to their liking. If the current company asks why they're making a change, they should answer truthfully.
If they're overall satisfied with the services being provided, however, they should simply accept that a once-a-year headache is part of the cost of doing business with this company. They can and should strongly voice their dissatisfaction at having to remind the company every year when the contract comes due, but not paying for what they're getting isn't a fair way to express their annoyance.
Personally, I'd bite the bullet and carry on as in past years. Nagging the exterminators to send you a contract once a year is surely aggravating, but I imagine it pales in comparison to the problems of dealing with a company that sends its contracts promptly but does a lousy job on the actual termite control.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
SOUND OFF: HOW DUMB IS YOUR RESUME?
Of the readers who responded to an unscientific poll on my column's blog, 56 percent believe that it's OK to omit relevant experience from your resume if you believe that the omission might help you secure a job, while 44 percent consider it wrong to leave off advanced degrees or job experience for tactical reasons.
"As long as the information that is presented is accurate and the information that is left off wouldn't be damning - say a criminal record, for instance - yes, it is completely ethical to leave off information so as to better position your chances of landing the job," writes Bill Jacobson of Cypress, Calif.
"I don't see any ethical reason to include every piece of information on a resume," agrees Michael Buller of Boston, "as long as the omission doesn't create a false picture."
Charlie Seng, of Lancaster, S.C., disagrees.
"It's always best to be completely forthcoming in a job application," Seng writes. "Leaving out what you consider `enough' to get your foot in the door may later be treated by your boss as your having been dishonest to get the job."
"Being seriously overqualified for a job should not be a deterrent to applying for what's available," Patricia Selk writes. "If an employer already has another candidate in mind, or if there's an `I'm better than you' attitude that goes along with your degree(s), it won't matter what is or isn't on your resume."
Check out other opinions here, or post your own by clicking on "Comments" or "Post a comment" below.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com or to "The Right Thing," New York Times Syndicate, 630 Eighth Ave., 5th floor, New York, N.Y. 10018.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
"As long as the information that is presented is accurate and the information that is left off wouldn't be damning - say a criminal record, for instance - yes, it is completely ethical to leave off information so as to better position your chances of landing the job," writes Bill Jacobson of Cypress, Calif.
"I don't see any ethical reason to include every piece of information on a resume," agrees Michael Buller of Boston, "as long as the omission doesn't create a false picture."
Charlie Seng, of Lancaster, S.C., disagrees.
"It's always best to be completely forthcoming in a job application," Seng writes. "Leaving out what you consider `enough' to get your foot in the door may later be treated by your boss as your having been dishonest to get the job."
"Being seriously overqualified for a job should not be a deterrent to applying for what's available," Patricia Selk writes. "If an employer already has another candidate in mind, or if there's an `I'm better than you' attitude that goes along with your degree(s), it won't matter what is or isn't on your resume."
Check out other opinions here, or post your own by clicking on "Comments" or "Post a comment" below.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com or to "The Right Thing," New York Times Syndicate, 630 Eighth Ave., 5th floor, New York, N.Y. 10018.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Sunday, August 01, 2010
SOUND OFF: DOES OUR BAGGAGE WEIGH US DOWN?
In a recent entry on his ethics blog, Emmanuel Tchividjian, the ethics officer of Ruder Finn, a New York-based public-relations firm, writes that Piers Morgan, a British editor and public figure, is being considered as a replacement for CNN's Larry King, who soon will leave the cable channel. Tchividjian asks if Morgan should be forgiven for the "baggage" he carries: Among other transgressions, Morgan was fired as editor of The Daily Mirror after he allowed the publication of doctored photos of troops allegedly abusing prisoners in Iraq.
But, Tchividjian asks, "Don't we all carry some baggage?" As long as we are honest, show remorse and offer an apology, Tchividjian suggests, Morgan - and the rest of us - can hope for forgiveness for the baggage we carry, though we can't demand it.
Assuming that Morgan has owned up to his errors, showed his remorse and offered a sincere apology, should he be forgiven for the baggage he carries? Or is a wrong a wrong, regardless of how the wrongdoer subsequently feels about it?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@nytimes.com.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of The Right Thing (http://www.jeffreyseglin.com/, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
But, Tchividjian asks, "Don't we all carry some baggage?" As long as we are honest, show remorse and offer an apology, Tchividjian suggests, Morgan - and the rest of us - can hope for forgiveness for the baggage we carry, though we can't demand it.
Assuming that Morgan has owned up to his errors, showed his remorse and offered a sincere apology, should he be forgiven for the baggage he carries? Or is a wrong a wrong, regardless of how the wrongdoer subsequently feels about it?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@nytimes.com.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of The Right Thing (http://www.jeffreyseglin.com/, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
THE RIGHT THING: A BURNING QUESTION
During the past couple of years, a reader from New York has found himself drawn to classic country music, artists from the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s.
"Much of their work isn't available on CD," he writes, "so I've been buying from various people who sell used vinyl records by the artists I'm interested in."
One of these sellers - the one my reader finds the most helpful, in fact - offers either to sell his customers a record or to burn them a copy of it on CD, "presumably keeping the record for future use," my reader surmises.
"I know that this is illegal, and unethical as well," he continues, "and I have made clear to him that I disapprove and would never take advantage of this option."
My reader imagines, however, that there are other people who do take him up on this offer, which is part of his standard order response. He is wondering if it is ethical to buy legal products from someone who is also engaged in selling illegal products.
"I am not personally trading in illegal goods," he writes, "but presumably the profit he makes from the records he sells to me help keep him in business ... making illegal copies. On the other hand, every record I buy is one less for him to illegally copy.
"Is it enough to limit myself to legal recordings?," he asks. "Or does his illegal activity taint even his legal activities?"
The question is an interesting one, because it pivots not on what the record-seller is doing but on what the customer knows about it and what he thinks of the practice.
If a customer knew nothing of the illegal practice, he would buy the legitimate recordings with a clear conscience. He does know, however, which complicates the situation.
It would be only a minor problem if he knew about the practice but saw nothing wrong with it. Under those circumstances, he could continue to buy the legitimate recordings without thinking twice. As for the CD copying, while it might be illegal, his own moral compass would see no problem with it and, of course, the primary legal risk would be faced by the seller. Buying legal products from a seller of illegal products is rarely if ever illegal.
Given, however, that my reader is aware of the illegal copying and considers it not only illegal but also wrong, he should ask himself if he really wants to continue to support the overall business practices of someone who engages in acts he doesn't condone.
If his convictions are as strong as he suggests, I don't believe he should. Would he, by extension, want to do business with a used-car salesperson who sold both legitimate used cars and others that had been stolen? Most customers would sensibly walk away from such a dealership, however appealing its legitimate vehicles might be, and this situation is different only in degree.
Burning copies of vinyl records to CD may feel like small potatoes, but wrong is wrong - and my reader has established that he considers some of his seller's business practices to be wrong. He must decide if he is willing to turn a blind eye solely because the seller also happens to deliver a legitimate product that is hard to find elsewhere.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
"Much of their work isn't available on CD," he writes, "so I've been buying from various people who sell used vinyl records by the artists I'm interested in."
One of these sellers - the one my reader finds the most helpful, in fact - offers either to sell his customers a record or to burn them a copy of it on CD, "presumably keeping the record for future use," my reader surmises.
"I know that this is illegal, and unethical as well," he continues, "and I have made clear to him that I disapprove and would never take advantage of this option."
My reader imagines, however, that there are other people who do take him up on this offer, which is part of his standard order response. He is wondering if it is ethical to buy legal products from someone who is also engaged in selling illegal products.
"I am not personally trading in illegal goods," he writes, "but presumably the profit he makes from the records he sells to me help keep him in business ... making illegal copies. On the other hand, every record I buy is one less for him to illegally copy.
"Is it enough to limit myself to legal recordings?," he asks. "Or does his illegal activity taint even his legal activities?"
The question is an interesting one, because it pivots not on what the record-seller is doing but on what the customer knows about it and what he thinks of the practice.
If a customer knew nothing of the illegal practice, he would buy the legitimate recordings with a clear conscience. He does know, however, which complicates the situation.
It would be only a minor problem if he knew about the practice but saw nothing wrong with it. Under those circumstances, he could continue to buy the legitimate recordings without thinking twice. As for the CD copying, while it might be illegal, his own moral compass would see no problem with it and, of course, the primary legal risk would be faced by the seller. Buying legal products from a seller of illegal products is rarely if ever illegal.
Given, however, that my reader is aware of the illegal copying and considers it not only illegal but also wrong, he should ask himself if he really wants to continue to support the overall business practices of someone who engages in acts he doesn't condone.
If his convictions are as strong as he suggests, I don't believe he should. Would he, by extension, want to do business with a used-car salesperson who sold both legitimate used cars and others that had been stolen? Most customers would sensibly walk away from such a dealership, however appealing its legitimate vehicles might be, and this situation is different only in degree.
Burning copies of vinyl records to CD may feel like small potatoes, but wrong is wrong - and my reader has established that he considers some of his seller's business practices to be wrong. He must decide if he is willing to turn a blind eye solely because the seller also happens to deliver a legitimate product that is hard to find elsewhere.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Sunday, July 25, 2010
THE RIGHT THING: COME AND GET IT ... WHENEVER
A few weeks ago, a reader in Columbus, Ohio, writes, he was passing through the parking lot of a city park and found an envelope containing a few hundred dollars.
"There were names on the envelope," he writes, "and it wasn't hard to trace it to a couple who got married that weekend in the park."
My reader left his contact information with the park office, but didn't turn in the cash. He figured that it would be too easy for some third party to tell him that they had found the owner and returned the money ... even if they hadn't and didn't.
Ten days passed, which didn't surprise my reader, since he figured the people who had lost the money were now on their honeymoon. When the owner finally called, however, it was when my reader was on vacation. He returned the call when he got back to Columbus, five days later. By now 15 days had passed since he found the envelope.
He got a recorded answer when he called, so he left a message. He expected a quick return call, but got nothing.
"I left another message on Day 18," he writes, "and called again on Day 19, and we finally spoke."
The owner of the money said that she would call my reader that Sunday - Day 21 - to arrange a time to come to his house to pick up the envelope.
"That was yesterday," my reader writes, "and I didn't get a call."
He is "ethically comfortable" not calling the rightful owner again, he adds.
"I think three unrequited calls is enough," he explains, "and she knows how to reach me."
His question, however, looks forward rather than backward: "How long is long enough before I decide the cash is mine? If I wait another month - to Day 60 - and spend it, what do I say if she calls me on Day 61 to arrange pickup?"
He's a regular reader of my column each week, he writes, but can't remember my ever covering a situation like his.
"My wife and I have actually used the phrase, `Well, the ethics guy from the paper would say ... ' when we've talked about this."
While I have written about the importance of returning found items to their rightful owners, my reader is correct that I've never addressed how to calculate the appropriate length of time to wait before giving up on a rightful owner collecting his or her belongings.
The answer, I'm afraid, is that there is no appropriate period. What's hers is hers, and will stay hers unless she herself tells him to keep the money.
My reader did the right thing by notifying the park office about his find. If no owner had come forward after several months, he might make a good case for considering the money rightfully his to keep.
Because he has identified the owner and made initial contact with her, however, the right thing for him to do is to set aside the money until she finally makes her way to his house to pick it up. It was rude of her not to call on the appointed day, but her rudeness does not make her money any less hers.
It's obviously a nuisance to have to wait her out, but my reader already realizes that it's the right thing to do: That's why he would be at a loss to explain himself if he spent the money on Day 60 and she showed up the next day to reclaim her cash.
He's doing good by trying to get the money to its rightful owner, and he shouldn't let her lackadaisical response keep him from staying the course.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
"There were names on the envelope," he writes, "and it wasn't hard to trace it to a couple who got married that weekend in the park."
My reader left his contact information with the park office, but didn't turn in the cash. He figured that it would be too easy for some third party to tell him that they had found the owner and returned the money ... even if they hadn't and didn't.
Ten days passed, which didn't surprise my reader, since he figured the people who had lost the money were now on their honeymoon. When the owner finally called, however, it was when my reader was on vacation. He returned the call when he got back to Columbus, five days later. By now 15 days had passed since he found the envelope.
He got a recorded answer when he called, so he left a message. He expected a quick return call, but got nothing.
"I left another message on Day 18," he writes, "and called again on Day 19, and we finally spoke."
The owner of the money said that she would call my reader that Sunday - Day 21 - to arrange a time to come to his house to pick up the envelope.
"That was yesterday," my reader writes, "and I didn't get a call."
He is "ethically comfortable" not calling the rightful owner again, he adds.
"I think three unrequited calls is enough," he explains, "and she knows how to reach me."
His question, however, looks forward rather than backward: "How long is long enough before I decide the cash is mine? If I wait another month - to Day 60 - and spend it, what do I say if she calls me on Day 61 to arrange pickup?"
He's a regular reader of my column each week, he writes, but can't remember my ever covering a situation like his.
"My wife and I have actually used the phrase, `Well, the ethics guy from the paper would say ... ' when we've talked about this."
While I have written about the importance of returning found items to their rightful owners, my reader is correct that I've never addressed how to calculate the appropriate length of time to wait before giving up on a rightful owner collecting his or her belongings.
The answer, I'm afraid, is that there is no appropriate period. What's hers is hers, and will stay hers unless she herself tells him to keep the money.
My reader did the right thing by notifying the park office about his find. If no owner had come forward after several months, he might make a good case for considering the money rightfully his to keep.
Because he has identified the owner and made initial contact with her, however, the right thing for him to do is to set aside the money until she finally makes her way to his house to pick it up. It was rude of her not to call on the appointed day, but her rudeness does not make her money any less hers.
It's obviously a nuisance to have to wait her out, but my reader already realizes that it's the right thing to do: That's why he would be at a loss to explain himself if he spent the money on Day 60 and she showed up the next day to reclaim her cash.
He's doing good by trying to get the money to its rightful owner, and he shouldn't let her lackadaisical response keep him from staying the course.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
SOUND OFF: FACING OFF ON FACEBOOK
The Charlotte Observer recently featured an article about a waitress who had lost her job for having used Facebook to post disparaging comments about a customer who left her a lousy tip. Of the readers who responded to an unscientific poll on my column's blog, 67 percent believe it fair for a company to fire an employee for online comments that might reflect ill on the company, while 32 percent believe that, because it's a personal page, it's none of the company's business.
"Although I am not an employment-law specialist, I would point out that there are some state laws that restrict the right of the employer to discharge an employee for comments made outside the employment setting," writes Bob Coffield, a health-care lawyer in West Virginia. "Social media has further blurred the work/personal lives of persons, and we will continue to see the development of requirements/laws that try to define the boundaries of proper behavior."
"Let this be a wake-up lesson," writes Bill Jacobson of Cypress, Calif. "You are employed at-will ... As soon as you start working against the company's interests, then you tip the balance toward them being better off without you."
"I agree that what she did was ill advised," another reader writes. "But, if she was a good employee who used bad judgment one time, the appropriate response by a wise employer would be to have her post an appropriate apology."
Check out other opinions here, or post your own by clicking on "Comments" or "Post a comment" below.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com or to "The Right Thing," New York Times Syndicate, 630 Eighth Ave., 5th floor, New York, N.Y. 10018.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
"Although I am not an employment-law specialist, I would point out that there are some state laws that restrict the right of the employer to discharge an employee for comments made outside the employment setting," writes Bob Coffield, a health-care lawyer in West Virginia. "Social media has further blurred the work/personal lives of persons, and we will continue to see the development of requirements/laws that try to define the boundaries of proper behavior."
"Let this be a wake-up lesson," writes Bill Jacobson of Cypress, Calif. "You are employed at-will ... As soon as you start working against the company's interests, then you tip the balance toward them being better off without you."
"I agree that what she did was ill advised," another reader writes. "But, if she was a good employee who used bad judgment one time, the appropriate response by a wise employer would be to have her post an appropriate apology."
Check out other opinions here, or post your own by clicking on "Comments" or "Post a comment" below.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com or to "The Right Thing," New York Times Syndicate, 630 Eighth Ave., 5th floor, New York, N.Y. 10018.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Sunday, July 18, 2010
SOUND OFF: WE'RE ALL ABOVE AVERAGE NOW
In June, in a front-page story in The New York Times, Catherine Rampell reported that in the past two years at least 10 American law schools have changed their grading policies in their students' favor. Loyola Law School Los Angeles has decided to retroactively raise each of its graduates' grade-point average by .333, she wrote, "to make its students look more attractive in a competitive job market."
Assuming that lawyers from other schools were indeed graded less rigorously than Loyola's graduates, is it OK to raise the GPAs retroactively? Or should the original GPAs stand, regardless of what other law schools did?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@nytimes.com.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of The Right Thing (http://www.jeffreyseglin.com/, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com or to "The Right Thing," New York Times Syndicate, 620 Eighth Ave., 5th floor, New York, N.Y. 10018.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Assuming that lawyers from other schools were indeed graded less rigorously than Loyola's graduates, is it OK to raise the GPAs retroactively? Or should the original GPAs stand, regardless of what other law schools did?
Post your thoughts here by clicking on "comments" or "post a comment" below. Please include your name, hometown, and state, province, or country. Readers' comments may appear in an upcoming column. Or e-mail your comments to me at rightthing@nytimes.com.
You can also respond to the poll with this question that will appear on the right-hand side of the blog until polling is closed.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business (Smith Kerr, 2006), is an associate professor at Emerson College in Boston, where he teaches writing and ethics. He is also the administrator of The Right Thing (http://www.jeffreyseglin.com/, a Web log focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@nytimes.com or to "The Right Thing," New York Times Syndicate, 620 Eighth Ave., 5th floor, New York, N.Y. 10018.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
THE RIGHT THING: SHOULD YOU LOOK A BANK ERROR IN THE MOUTH?
When his most recent bank statement arrived from J.P. Morgan Chase, T.M., a reader in Ohio, was surprised to find that it did not include a charge of $64.04 for a debit-card purchase he had made, about six weeks earlier, from a large sporting-goods store in the area.
T.M. doesn't recall anything unusual about the transaction, and he had previously used his debit card at the store without having a problem. Years ago, however, he had a similar thing happen to him at a restaurant in the same shopping area as the sporting-goods store.
"It was a large, locally based Italian restaurant with several locations in the Midwest," he writes. "We used to eat there a lot. I don't recall following up with that merchant, but I also don't recall paying for the lunch."
Regardless of his past experience, T.M. wonders what the right thing to do is, given his current situation with the sporting-goods store.
It occurs to T.M. that the absence of the charge might be due to some sort of debit-card promotion - "Use your debit card and your bill is on us!" He acknowledges, however, that Chase would probably have told him if that were the case.
"Other than waiting to see if the charge goes through at some point in the future," T.M. writes, "I'm wondering what I should do - anything?"
While it's always a good feeling to draw a "Bank Error in Your Favor" card, T.M.'s small windfall should not make him feel tingly with delight. The mistake that resulted in the debit-card transaction not registering may well have been the sporting-goods store's, but T.M. knows he made the purchase. He still has whatever it was he bought there and, as of right now, he hasn't paid for it. No matter how you slice it, that's not a situation likely to pass ethical muster.
Some stores have posted policies about mistakes in transactions resulting in favorable outcomes for the customer - for instance, a purchase being free at some restaurants if a cashier doesn't provide you with a receipt, or a supermarket offering customers free items if the scanner rings up the wrong price.
Even so, unless T.M.'s sporting-goods store has a posted policy that it won't charge customers if the debit doesn't show up on their bill within a certain period of time, the right thing is for T.M. to meet his ethical obligation to pay what he knows he owes.
In buying the goods, he undertook to give the store the agreed-upon price. It's good that he attempted to do so, and he can't be faulted for the fact that the electronic transfer somehow went awry, but the end result is that he has not lived up to his agreement. He needs to do so.
If the sporting-goods store had erroneously charged T.M. twice for his purchase, you can bet that he wouldn't hesitate to call the store and/or Chase to see that the mistake was rectified.
T.M. should exercise the same diligence to set things right, even when he does not stand to benefit financially from doing so, and regardless of whether the store will reward him for his honesty.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
T.M. doesn't recall anything unusual about the transaction, and he had previously used his debit card at the store without having a problem. Years ago, however, he had a similar thing happen to him at a restaurant in the same shopping area as the sporting-goods store.
"It was a large, locally based Italian restaurant with several locations in the Midwest," he writes. "We used to eat there a lot. I don't recall following up with that merchant, but I also don't recall paying for the lunch."
Regardless of his past experience, T.M. wonders what the right thing to do is, given his current situation with the sporting-goods store.
It occurs to T.M. that the absence of the charge might be due to some sort of debit-card promotion - "Use your debit card and your bill is on us!" He acknowledges, however, that Chase would probably have told him if that were the case.
"Other than waiting to see if the charge goes through at some point in the future," T.M. writes, "I'm wondering what I should do - anything?"
While it's always a good feeling to draw a "Bank Error in Your Favor" card, T.M.'s small windfall should not make him feel tingly with delight. The mistake that resulted in the debit-card transaction not registering may well have been the sporting-goods store's, but T.M. knows he made the purchase. He still has whatever it was he bought there and, as of right now, he hasn't paid for it. No matter how you slice it, that's not a situation likely to pass ethical muster.
Some stores have posted policies about mistakes in transactions resulting in favorable outcomes for the customer - for instance, a purchase being free at some restaurants if a cashier doesn't provide you with a receipt, or a supermarket offering customers free items if the scanner rings up the wrong price.
Even so, unless T.M.'s sporting-goods store has a posted policy that it won't charge customers if the debit doesn't show up on their bill within a certain period of time, the right thing is for T.M. to meet his ethical obligation to pay what he knows he owes.
In buying the goods, he undertook to give the store the agreed-upon price. It's good that he attempted to do so, and he can't be faulted for the fact that the electronic transfer somehow went awry, but the end result is that he has not lived up to his agreement. He needs to do so.
If the sporting-goods store had erroneously charged T.M. twice for his purchase, you can bet that he wouldn't hesitate to call the store and/or Chase to see that the mistake was rectified.
T.M. should exercise the same diligence to set things right, even when he does not stand to benefit financially from doing so, and regardless of whether the store will reward him for his honesty.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
Sunday, July 11, 2010
THE RIGHT THING: WHO NEEDS A (CHEAP) TICKET?
Months before her planned visit to Manhattan to see her son, Eric, a reader from Ohio named Patricia had purchased tickets for them to see August Wilson's play, "Fences," and the musical "La Cage aux Folles."
The play was a limited run starring Oscar winner Denzel Washington, making it a hot ticket, and the tickets became even hotter after Washington won a Tony Award for his performance. Patricia never saw either show, however, because an emergency occurred shortly before her scheduled departure and she was forced to cancel the trip.
The tickets did not go to waste, though, because her son was able to resell them on the Internet ... and therein rests a tale.
Patricia writes that, because her ticket for "Fences" was hot, it was worth far more than its face value on the open market. Believing it ethically wrong to ask for more than his mother had paid for it, however, her son sold it for only the face value.
His mother disagrees with his take on the situation.
"If a property becomes worth more than what the owner paid for it," she asks, "is it ethically wrong to sell that property for the new market value?"
Anti-scalping laws exist for a variety of reasons, whether to protect the public from unscrupulous resellers or to help avoid the sale of fraudulent tickets to performances or sporting events. The laws regarding resale of such tickets vary from state to state. Some prohibit it, some require resellers to be licensed. Some put limits on how much of a markup, if any, is permissible. Auction Web sites, such as eBay, often post state regulations on such matters, and they can be dauntingly complex.
The law is not the issue here, however. It would be "obviously wrong" to ask her son to do anything illegal, Patricia writes, but she believes that it would not be illegal to mark up the price of her "Fences" ticket, noting that her ticket for "La Cage aux Folles" sold for much less than face value.
"Assuming that selling the ticket for the greater value was legal," she writes, "isn't it just good business sense to do so? I don't see this as an ethics question, but obviously my son does."
I appreciate Eric's urge to be ethical, but - so far as no laws are being violated - I don't believe there would have been anything wrong in his letting the market dictate the price of his mother's tickets. As she says, the value of items can change, and the price a seller paid for an item seldom has anything to do with how much a buyer pays for it. If my grandson bought a packet of Yugioh cards, came across a valuable one and decided to sell it for more than the cost of the whole packet, there would be nothing wrong with that, if he could find another collector who wanted the card and was willing to pay for it.
That said, the fact that Eric considers it unethical isn't irrelevant. Ethics vary from person to person, and what's fine for one person may be wrong for another.
If this comes up again in the future, the right thing for my reader and her son to do will be to determine the applicable laws and then come to some agreement about how to price her tickets. If Eric isn't comfortable selling them for more than face value, he shouldn't have to, and my reader shouldn't force the issue. She should sell the tickets herself or find someone else to help her, someone who is not uncomfortable with her pricing requirements.
There's nothing wrong with letting the market dictate the price of the tickets, but it's not mandatory, and Eric has every right to say no if he doesn't want to get involved.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
The play was a limited run starring Oscar winner Denzel Washington, making it a hot ticket, and the tickets became even hotter after Washington won a Tony Award for his performance. Patricia never saw either show, however, because an emergency occurred shortly before her scheduled departure and she was forced to cancel the trip.
The tickets did not go to waste, though, because her son was able to resell them on the Internet ... and therein rests a tale.
Patricia writes that, because her ticket for "Fences" was hot, it was worth far more than its face value on the open market. Believing it ethically wrong to ask for more than his mother had paid for it, however, her son sold it for only the face value.
His mother disagrees with his take on the situation.
"If a property becomes worth more than what the owner paid for it," she asks, "is it ethically wrong to sell that property for the new market value?"
Anti-scalping laws exist for a variety of reasons, whether to protect the public from unscrupulous resellers or to help avoid the sale of fraudulent tickets to performances or sporting events. The laws regarding resale of such tickets vary from state to state. Some prohibit it, some require resellers to be licensed. Some put limits on how much of a markup, if any, is permissible. Auction Web sites, such as eBay, often post state regulations on such matters, and they can be dauntingly complex.
The law is not the issue here, however. It would be "obviously wrong" to ask her son to do anything illegal, Patricia writes, but she believes that it would not be illegal to mark up the price of her "Fences" ticket, noting that her ticket for "La Cage aux Folles" sold for much less than face value.
"Assuming that selling the ticket for the greater value was legal," she writes, "isn't it just good business sense to do so? I don't see this as an ethics question, but obviously my son does."
I appreciate Eric's urge to be ethical, but - so far as no laws are being violated - I don't believe there would have been anything wrong in his letting the market dictate the price of his mother's tickets. As she says, the value of items can change, and the price a seller paid for an item seldom has anything to do with how much a buyer pays for it. If my grandson bought a packet of Yugioh cards, came across a valuable one and decided to sell it for more than the cost of the whole packet, there would be nothing wrong with that, if he could find another collector who wanted the card and was willing to pay for it.
That said, the fact that Eric considers it unethical isn't irrelevant. Ethics vary from person to person, and what's fine for one person may be wrong for another.
If this comes up again in the future, the right thing for my reader and her son to do will be to determine the applicable laws and then come to some agreement about how to price her tickets. If Eric isn't comfortable selling them for more than face value, he shouldn't have to, and my reader shouldn't force the issue. She should sell the tickets herself or find someone else to help her, someone who is not uncomfortable with her pricing requirements.
There's nothing wrong with letting the market dictate the price of the tickets, but it's not mandatory, and Eric has every right to say no if he doesn't want to get involved.
c.2010 The New York Times Syndicate (Distributed by The New York Times Syndicate)
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