Thankless returns

Occasionally, I run across someone's lost wallet.

My response has always been to do what I could to find out the name of the wallet's owner and then return it. The response from the rightful owner has ranged from appearing chagrined to have to meet me at a nearby subway station (where I'd found the wallet) to recoup her rightful belongings, to a gentleman who sent my family a gift certificate to a buffet at a Chinese restaurant after he received his wallet in the mail.

Does how people respond dictate whether we should do the right thing? Should it?

Things had not been going particularly well for a reader from Southern California. She had been unemployed for quite a while. Finances were tight and she'd overdrawn her checking account by $196.

As she pulled her car into the bank's parking lot, she found a space that was directly adjacent to the ATM. There, scattered in the space right next to her car were 10 $20 bills. The $200 could not have come at a better time, she figured, so she tucked them in her pocketbook and drove home.

The next day, however, she grew concerned for the person who might have lost the money. She went to the bank and asked its manager if someone had reported any money missing.

"Luckily," she writes, "they had gotten a call." The customer had described exactly how much and where the money had been lost.

At the manager's request, my reader left her name and number with the bank. With her permission, the manager was going to forward the money to the customer along with a note containing the name and number of the woman who had found it and returned it to the bank.

"I didn't return the money expecting anything," my reader writes. "But a thank you would have been nice. The woman never even called to say 'thank you.'"

My reader grew angry over the lack of an acknowledgment for her good deed.

"Especially given my own financial dire straits," she writes, "I was seriously regretting my decision to give the money back."

Returning found cash can be trickier than returning a lost wallet, since cash rarely has any identifying characteristics on it. Still, my reader went out of her way to see if she could get it to its right owner.

Sure, she could have used the cash herself and no one would have been the wiser. But she knew that the money's owner might be agonizing over the loss. Clearly, the owner was concerned and notified the bank.

My reader did the right thing by trying to find the rightful owner of the money. The owner was wrong not to express her thanks.

A small courtesy to acknowledge an act of kindness would have gone a long way toward reaffirming my reader's faith in people's goodness. She can rest easy knowing that her own act is a reflection of the quality of her character.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business," is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Does society have a responsibility to care?

A reader was taken aback while watching the Republican presidential debate in Tampa, Fla., recently. During the debate among contenders for the Republican nomination for the U.S. presidency that was sponsored by CNN, U.S. Rep. Ron Paul made clear he didn't believe it was right to let sick people die, but he argued that those who are sick should take responsibility for themselves.

As the exchange between Paul and moderator Wolf Blitzer continued, Paul was asked if a young man who might fall into a coma should be left to die. A handful of audience members at the debate shouted "Yeah."

My reader was motivated to write because of "the disgraceful cheering that took place" at that debate. Still, the reader believes the question was a fair one: "Does society have the obligation to care for someone who shows up at a hospital room without medical insurance? Does society have an obligation to care for him?"

But my reader would like to reframe the question a bit. "If a person possibly expects society to give him medical care sometime in the future, is he obligated to prepay in some way?"

He explains that one way this might manifest itself is whether someone is obligated to donate blood if he expects society to be able to provide it for him at some point in the future. He argues that since the current system of voluntary blood donation seems to supply enough blood, a person who doesn't donate could say he shouldn't have to because there is no shortage.

"But," my reader continues, "that's not the situation with organ donation." He notes that there is a shortage of organs available for transplantation and people die waiting for them. "Therefore," he asks, "shouldn't a person who expects or hopes that society will find an organ suitable for him if he needs it sometime in the future be obligated to be an organ donor if he should die suddenly?"

Absent the vitriol, my reader circles back to the question similar to the one raised at the Republican debate: "Is a person who expects society to give him medical treatment obligated to make arrangements to pay for it?"

Yes, of course, we'd like to think that people would be able to take responsibility for their health care and pay for the services they use. We'd also like to think that those who might draw on particular services in the future choose to give back if the opportunity arises so that others can draw on similar services.

But if the underlying question my reader poses is whether those who don't have the resources to pay or those who haven't taken the time to donate blood or fill out organ-donor cards should be denied services, the answer is no.

We've decided that, as a society, it's inappropriate to turn away those who are in need of medical or emergency services that could save their lives, even if they can't afford such services. That decision reflects an ethical choice we've made about how we're going to live together. Those who shouted "Yeah!" to a suggestion that we let folks die rather than provide health care fall distinctly outside of the agreed-upon norms.

A goal of having everyone take responsibility for their health and contribute to those efforts of which they might afford themselves in the future is a good one. But having such a goal doesn't remove the responsibility of caring for those who might not have been as prescient, responsible, or capable to make the same decisions before they find themselves in need.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business," is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Many happy returns (Y2K edition)

Eleven years ago, the world was in a bit of a tizzy over the prospects of the calendar turning from 1999 to 2000. Predictions littered the landscape of a major technology meltdown that resulted from chips in computers somehow finding themselves baffled as the old century gave way to the new.

Business folk loaded up on stuff that enabled them to back-up their data. Consumers, worried the year switch might result in the meltdown of the municipal power grids, stocked up on flashlights, foodstuffs, and portable electric generators.

Doing my own part, I decided to prepare for the Y2K meltdown by avoiding my laptop for the month and instead pecking out my writing on a 1916 portable Corona typewriter. My findings? Slower writing, but fewer interruptions . . . essentially a wash.

But questions linger for many about how some people prepped in the wake of the hype and fear and dire predictions about the collapse of industries and services.

A reader in Ohio is still wondering about the actions a family member took to gird his loins against the ravages of Y2K. "Fear led my brother-in-law to take actions I considered unethical," he writes. "He disagrees."

A few weeks before 2000 hit, the brother-in-law bought a portable generator from a local merchant. He made the purchase knowing that the merchant had a 30-day return, full-refund policy. His plan was to keep the generator in its box unopened and then return it for a full refund if he hadn't needed to use it.

A week after 1999 gave way to 2000 without incident, the brother-in-law returned the generator and received a full refund.

"I told him his actions were unethical because he bought the generator in bad faith," my reader writes. "Moreover, he denied the merchant the opportunity to sell the generator to a legitimate customer."

My reader asks: "Was his behavior ethical? I say not."

If the merchant offered a 30-day return, full-refund policy, the brother-in-law did not do anything wrong. Just like his customers, the merchant knew that Y2K was upon him and that there might be some folks who would load up on stuff only to return it after the year turned, they didn't need the stuff, and they were still within the 30-day period. If the merchant didn't want to risk such returns, he could have changed his policy.

The brother-in-law's actions are decidedly different from the practice of purchasing, say, an expensive item of clothing, wearing it once, but leaving the label on so the item can be returned the next day. In such a case, the item is used and the customer is trying to disguise this fact to get a full refund. The brother-in-law, however, never opened the item and therefore could return it under the agreed-upon policy with absolutely no guilt.

My reader questions whether his brother-in-law's intent changes the situation. No more than the intent of the merchant in not changing his return policy during the 30 days leading up to Y2K. Perhaps the merchant thought the risk of getting returns was worth it since some of his customers might decide to hold onto their purchases even when Y2K-ageddon never struck.

It doesn't matter. What matters is that the customer and the merchant each honored his side of the deal and could enter the new century with a clear conscience.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business," is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

When bad driving happens to good customers

Stacks of bagged mulch, stone and gravel sit in the parking lots of a regional chain of small hardware stores. It's common for customers to park close to these heaps to make it easier to load the goods into their trunks.

"It's just a neighborly gesture the hardware store makes by accommodating this parking," writes a reader. "Or so I thought."

After two clerks from the hardware store loaded his car's trunk with the bags of mulch he had purchased, he began to drive away. When he heard an awful scraping noise that is all too familiar to those who have been in fender benders, my reader realized that his car had grazed a pallet of bricks that were sticking out near where he had parked.

"The manager did nothing but shrug and say I was not supposed to park next to the bags of mulch," writes my reader. "I asked him where the signs were telling people this. Where were the ropes and pylons and other things directing us where to park? Why didn't the employees who loaded up my car say anything?"

Ultimately, my reader had to ask the manager to get a forklift to remove the bricks so he could get his car out of the parking lot.

"I contacted a police officer, who followed me back to the hardware store," he writes. "As the officer was writing up the accident and my car was again in the 'mulch' lane, another worker came up and asked which bags we wanted loaded into my car!"

My reader's car repair cost him about $400. He figures that equals about two years' worth of products from the hardware store that in the past he might have purchased. "Perhaps I will visit the store again in two years," he writes.

Has the business since changed the signage? "When my temper settles, I may drive by to look."

Was the hardware store in the wrong here? He wants to know.

Sure, the hardware store should have posted signs in the parking lot near the mulch if it didn't want customers to park there. And if they didn't want customers parking there, they certainly shouldn't have instructed workers to encourage them to park there when they needed bags of mulch loaded.

But my reader isn't entirely off the hook. The pallet of bricks was in the parking lot when he arrived. He was responsible for being aware of his surroundings as he left the parking space, whether that meant avoiding the piles of mulch and gravel, the other parked cars, or pallets of goods parked there.

The right thing would have been for the manager to offer whatever assistance he could after the accident, but not to lay blame upon the customer for doing something that was customary and encouraged by the store's employees. And the right thing for the customer was to acknowledge that he made a mistake in banging up his car, and to take responsibility for his own fender bender.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business,"  is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Dogged by a pet's death

A woman in the Northeast owned two dogs. After deciding to take a short trip, she arranged to have a caretaker tend to the dogs she planned to leave at home. A neighbor agreed to do the job, and the owner intended to pay her for providing this service.

The owner wanted the dogs to remain in her house while she was away. She left very specific instructions for the dogs' caretaker.

Twice a day, she was to take the dogs outside, on leashes, so they could "do their business." Once a day, they were also to get a walk, again while on leash. The leashes "were a must" because the woman and her dogs lived on a very busy road.

While she was still on her trip, the owner received the devastating news that one of her dogs had been killed by a car on the busy road outside of her house.

It seems the caretaker had decided to take the dogs to her own house, on the opposite side of the busy road. So the dogs wouldn't run away, she had tied the collars of two rather large dogs with ropes to a lawn chair and then went inside. The larger of the two dogs broke loose and ran toward home and into the street and was struck by a car. The smaller dog was trying to run home, too, but didn't get far because she was pulling the lawn chair behind her.

Another neighbor found the critically injured dog and informed the caretaker.

The caretaker then took the dying animal to an animal hospital and permitted the veterinarian to try to save the dog's life to no avail. As a result of the veterinarian's work, a sizable bill was run up.

A friend of the owner who learned of the incident wrote to me to provide me with the details. She asks: "Should the owner pay the caretaker back for the vet bill?"

There are at least two reasons I believe that the owner bears no responsibility in repaying the caretaker for the bill.

The first reason is that the caretaker did not contact the owner to let her know that her dog had been hit by the car. If she had, she could have told the owner about the efforts the veterinarian was willing to make and the owner could have agreed to those efforts.

The second reason is that the caretaker clearly violated the agreement she had with the owner to care for her dogs. The deal was never to tie the dogs to a lawn chair in her own backyard. The owner explicitly asked the caretaker to agree to care for the dogs in their own home and to keep them on leashes whenever she took them out. Her violation of this agreement resulted in the dog's death.

It would have been right for the caretaker to honor her agreement with the owner. It also would have been right for her to seek permission from the owner to take extraordinary efforts in reviving the dog after it was struck by the car. It's too late for either.

Now, the right thing is for the owner to be allowed to mourn the loss of her pet without the added burden of worrying about whether she owes the caretaker anything for her haphazard behavior.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Does the baby factor into the business deal?

"Guilt is supposed to guide us back to our moral compass I had always thought," writes D.C., a reader from the Midwest. She feels "inexplicably really guilty" and is concerned that she may have done something wrong in recent business dealings with the owner of a property she is leasing to run a lodge that will open later this year.

D.C. agreed to the lease back in February. She has paid half of the cost of the lease already (tens of thousands of dollars, she indicates) and is "wholeheartedly committed to setting up the lodge." She is committed to finding lodge guests by investing in marketing and advertising.

Sometime after they'd agreed on the details of the lease, but before all of the paperwork had been signed, D.C. found out she was pregnant. It was unplanned, she writes, a "miracle" that has her over the moon about what will be her first child after a long wait.

"I chose not to tell the property owner about my pregnancy for two reasons," she writes. "First, it was my private health information, and second, pregnant women and mothers have the right to work and I did not want her to give her a chance to discriminate against me."

With just a few months to go before the hotel is to open and the final paperwork still not complete, the owner of the property somehow found out about the pregnancy and is outraged.

"I don't know how she found out," writes D.C. "It is possible she may even try to negate our agreement."

When she found out she was pregnant, D.C. hired an au pair and two extra staff members because she intended to keep on working and thought it prudent to hire the child care assistance she knows she'll need.

"I intend to work just as hard and do just as great a job now that I am going to have a child," writes D.C. "It is my reputation and my dream. I have standards and take them seriously. I hope to be able to tell my daughter I still followed my dreams even though she was coming and that even though it was hard, I provided for her and did it doing what I loved."

She wouldn't have told an employer about the pregnancy, but she reminds me that this woman is the owner of the property she is leasing, not an employer. Still, D.C. has an outstanding financial obligation to her since one half of the lease payment is still due during the term of the lease and doesn't want anything to sour her relationship.

"Did I do something wrong?" asks D.C.

Absolutely not.

D.C. did the right thing by taking steps to ensure that she could honor her business agreement once she learned of her pregnancy. The pregnancy itself should not be of any concern to the property owner as long as D.C. meets her obligations.

Any guilt D.C. might feel is likely the result of the property owner's outraged response that caught D.C. off guard. It's normal to question your own actions when someone feels something so viscerally in response.

But D.C.'s moral compass led her to be responsible and do everything she could to meet her obligations. Someday, her daughter can respond with pride about how her mother acted.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Put your hands on the hood and your shopping bags in the car

As she and her daughter were returning to their car in a Southern California mall's parking lot in, E.O. writes that she saw a woman near an SUV speaking very loudly to her young children.

"I thought it was a bit much when she told them to put their hands on the car and not to move until she got all of the things they had purchased into the car," E.O. writes. The mother's tone "kind of reminded me of a cop saying the same thing to a criminal."

E.O.'s 15-year-old daughter also witnessed the incident and said: "Mom, if you ever treated me like that, I'd probably run away." They laughed and E.O. assured her she couldn't ever treat her that way.

Still, she never considered calling the mother out on abusing her children, and believes others should wait and observe before doing anything. "If you think someone is abusive, you will see it in those minutes watching them carefully," E.O. writes. "If you don't, you could be dead wrong."

Perhaps, E.O. figured that since she witnessed the event around Christmastime, this mother might have been just another frustrated parent who had had a bit too much holiday shopping that day. "Or was it a mom who had truly lost all of her senses and needed to be picked up by authorities?" she asks.

"I didn't notice anything further that was potentially damaging to the children, so I did nothing."

E.O. recalled that her method of controlling her daughter and son when they were younger and shopping together was to hold their hands throughout the store. If that proved impossible, they left the store regardless of whether they had finished shopping.

"My best success would be telling the kids there would be a candy or ice cream stop after the store trip," she writes. "They were well behaved with that technique, believe me. They knew we'd go home without the treats if they weren't!"

The loud lady with the kids got into her car and left without further incident. E.O. and her daughter left just about the same time.

"People nowadays want to call abuse on everyone," writes E.O. "Wait and observe. You can't judge by one action alone, I say."

Still, she asks "What should someone else in my place have done to that lady?"

When E.O. writes that "she did nothing," that's not entirely accurate. After witnessing the unusual parenting of the mother, she waited and observed. Had she seen any truly abusive behavior, she then could have either decided to intervene or to call for someone to help. Because she didn't, she took no further action.

All parents find their own way to manage their children's behavior. E.O. held hands. The parking lot mother wanted to know where her children's hands were, as well, albeit in a less-nurturing manner. Ultimately, she may just have been trying to keep her children safe in a busy mall parking lot.

E.O. did the right thing by not jumping to any conclusions and instead trying to discern if there truly was a problem that placed the other mother's children in danger. We shouldn't turn a blind eye when we witness others who are in need of help, but we shouldn't jump to conclusions about people's behavior either based on one odd, but ambiguous action.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

He shoots, he scores, he comes clean

[UPDATE TO STORY: "No $50,000 prize for boy who made 'miracle' shot." (THANKS TO READER WILLIAM JACOBSON FOR THE LINK.)



On Thursday, Aug. 11, 11-year-old Nick Smith's name was called out during half-time at a charity hockey game in Faribault, Minn. His father had paid $10 for the chance of a lifetime. If Nick could shoot a 3-inch-diameter hockey puck 89 feet into a target whose opening was 3.5 inches wide by 1.5 inches high, he would win $50,000.

The trouble was that Nick was hanging around with his friends at the time his name was called. So his identical twin brother, Nate, heeded the call, took to the ice and made the long shot long shot.

To most everyone's surprise -- including the professional hockey players who witnessed the shot -- Nate got the puck through the goal. But everyone -- except for Nate and his dad -- still thought that it was Nick, the brother whose ticket had been selected, who had made the shot.

Because the brothers are identical, it was unlikely the promoters would notice that the brother was the one called to make the shot.

Later, the twins' father, Pat, called one of the hockey promoters to let him know that it was the other twin who had made the goal, not the one whose name was on the ticket.

"You've got to do what's right," the dad told a reporter from Reuters. "You don't want to teach kids to lie no matter how much money is involved."

An old friend of mine, Dr. Rick Kenney, an associate professor at Florida Gulf Coast University who teaches media law and ethics, alerted me to the Smith saga shortly after it was reported. Kenney, like most everyone else, would like to see the insurance company still pay out the $50,000.

But for this situation not to be unethical, Kenney says, at least two conditions must exist. First, there was no intentional walking out of the arena to dodge the challenge by the original ticketholder. And second, there was no intent to deceive by their "twinness."

It doesn't appear as if anyone left the arena to avoid taking the shot. But it does seem like the twinness was taken advantage of.

The right thing would have been for Nate to have simply said to those who called him (or for his father to say on his behalf): "My brother isn't here, but I have his ticket. May I take his place?"

If the organizers agreed, they might have run into issues with their insurer who was paying out the money, but Nate and his dad would have been in the clear ethically.

"After he had time to think about it, the father figured out it was wrong," Kenney says. "Still, there's no taking back the original deception."

Does the family deserve to keep the $50,000 because the father decided to come clean after the fact that he has fudged on the rules of the game? He may have sent a strong message to his sons that you need to do what's right even when there are consequences, but it doesn't negate the fact that one brother pretended to be the other. The organizers may decide to pay the family some prize for the amazing shot or for the honesty after the fact or for all the publicity the incident is garnering them.

But there's no ethical obligation for them to do so. Sometimes it's just doing what's right that is the feel-good part of the act.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

Let's move honestly with our kids

Let's Move! was launched in February 2010, by Michelle Obama to address childhood obesity in America. The goal of the organization is to wipe out rampant childhood obesity within a generation.

By involving kids, schools and parents with a variety of educational and physical activities, Let's Move! is committed to reversing the trend toward overeating and underactive kids. While arguments can be made over what constitutes overweight, particularly in a very active child with healthy eating habits, the goal of sending a message of how important diet and exercise are to maintain health is a good one.

The effort's website is full of statistics that will likely raise any reader's concerns about just how sedentary childhood life has become. The volume of junk food consumed and television watched and video games played in place of outdoor activities is staggering. On average, Americans consumes 31 percent more calories and 15 more pounds of sugar a year than they did 40 years ago.

There's no question that finding a way to reverse this trajectory is important. And parents are a primary group targeted by Let's Move! to get the job done. Parents are encouraged to share tips online with other parents and are provided with healthy menus to feed their families.

There are also a slew of public service announcements (PSAs) that run online and as television advertisements to make the case. And it's in one of these PSAs that Let's Move! seems to have gone off cue in helping parents share the values with their children that may lead to a healthier, more active lifestyle.

I first saw the PSA when I was pumping gas and viewing those short videos that are displayed on a screen at the top of the pump. Inthe PSA, a young girl runs downstairs shouting to her mother in the kitchen that she wants a dollar. The mother glances at her purse on the counter next to her and starts to say, "Sure, it's right..." and then stops. "I think my purse is upstairs on the bed." The daughter shouts back that it's not there and then the mother suggests she try the dining room, her sister's room, and basically gets her to run around the house looking for the purse.

Eventually, the daughter comes to the kitchen, the mother laughs, and gives her daughter the dollar while the voice announces: "Moms everywhere are finding ways to keep kids active and healthy."

In the scheme of things, it may not seem a big deal. But while we're trying to get parents to instill good eating habits in their children, wouldn't it make sense to suggest they do so without lying to their kids? A small lie, perhaps, but a lie nonetheless and one that suggests to the kid that it might be appropriate to use a similar tact when she is trying to get someone to do something she wants her to do, say, her mother.

It shouldn't take a good parent much effort to find ways to keep their kids active without resorting to lies to get them to do so. Let's Move! has a terrific mandate. The right thing is for its PSAs to match the integrity of the program.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Paying for picture-perfect referral

While at a Las Vegas conference for wedding photographers, P.A., of Columbus, Ohio, decided to attend an open forum one evening.

One topic high on everyone's mind was how to market their services. A high-end wedding photographer joined the conversation by talking about how she worked with bridal salons to secure recommends.

As the high-end photographer talked, P.A. was reminded of a bridal salon in Columbus that had set a policy about 10 years earlier that required all photographers to pay for referrals. P.A. declined to participate in such a program.

"I felt that the referral would not be an honest one because the salon would only be referring people who paid them to do so," she writes.

During the discussion in Las Vegas, P.A. asked the high-end photographer if she paid salons in her area. She and several others said that they did and saw no problem with it. They likened it to paying for ad space.

P.A. has no problem paying a salon for ad space in its store or newsletter. But the paid referral feels different to her. "A bride would not know the salon had paid for this referral, and would think it was a vendor the salon trusted, not just someone who paid for the referral."

Many of her fellow wedding photographers in Las Vegas disagreed. When P.A. asked if any of them asked for a referral fee from salons for recommending brides to them, all said, "No."

While she knows that a salon would likely have a lot more clients to refer to photographers than the other way around, P.A. also believes "it is unfair for someone to ask for money from us, but not be willing to pay for the same service from us."

"I feel the kickback taints the referral," writes P.A. "If the salon wants to do it that way, it should tell its clients somehow, perhaps by calling it a list of 'preferred vendors' or something, but not call it a 'referral.'"

There are many instances in business where a premium is paid by a product or service provider for better placement or mention. For years, supermarkets have charged food distributors slotting fees for premium shelf space. Book publishers have paid extra for having their titles featured on the end caps of bookshelves or on spotlighted tables throughout the bookstore.

Whenever there are many product or service providers vying for the same consumers, an opportunity arises to charge more for better access to those consumers.

So, it's no surprise that such a practice occurs within the bridal industry.

But my reader is correct to suggest that the right thing is to let consumers know what's behind such referrals. The married-couples-to-be should be allowed to judge for themselves whether it matters that a photographer has paid to be mentioned by a bridal salon. If it's more important to them that they get a recommendation unsullied by a financial transaction, then they can solicit such opinions from friends or other service providers that don't charge referral fees.

There's nothing wrong with the practice as long as everyone involved knows the practice is going on.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

When and when not to take employer to task

Companies that don't give prospective employees who've been brought in for interviews the courtesy of some sort of response even if they don't get the job are wrong. That's what I wrote a few months ago and I believe it as strongly today.

But that column generated a letter from the Columbus, Ohio, mother of a college freshman. When her daughter was home over Christmas break, her parents encouraged her to start sending out her resume and filling out applications for summer work.

Her parents knew jobs were becoming more difficult to find before "those who had lost their jobs would also be competing with all the students in the area."

The daughter applied to three places. By late spring, only one prospective employer had responded. The daughter was invited in for an interview. At the end of the interview, the daughter was offered the job.

"As for the other two employers," her mother writes, "I was disappointed and frustrated, as was she, that they did not respond to her follow-up emails and phone calls."

The mother says that she herself has applied for many jobs in her lifetime. Almost always, she was given the courtesy of at least a letter when the employer chose not to interview her or hire her for a position.

"My daughter was ignored and I found this rude," she writes. "This is not teaching our younger generation any good lesson about proper etiquette and common courtesy."

The mother points out that my column "makes the case that employers owe their applicants this kind of respect."

"What is your recommendation about how the applicant should politely point this out to employers when this respect is not shown?" she asks. She hopes such a letter would force employers to "make the necessary improvements" for future applicants, but she also wouldn't want her daughter to "burn any bridges" by writing it.

Tempting as it might be to write that letter to "politely" let prospective employers know about their rudeness, this might not be the best route.

In his book, Leading Quietly: An Unorthodox Guide to Doing the Right Thing (HBS Press, 2002), Joseph Badaracco makes a case for the use of restraint when faced with such circumstances. If the goal is to get the company to change its practices, then receiving a letter from someone about how disrespectful it was not to call her back might not do the trick. The potential downside (closing the door on future possibilities, for example) may outweigh the upside (feeling better about getting a slight off your chest).

The right thing is to figure out how best to get a desired message across as effectively as possible. Rather than write the businesses to point out their shortcomings, the daughter might consider writing a letter to each of the companies that didn't give her the courtesy of any response to let them know that since she'd applied, she wanted them to know that while she hadn't heard back from them yet she was offered and took a position at another company. By politely letting the companies know of her changed employment situation, she also lets them know that another company not only got back to her, but offered her a job. She stays positive, gets her message across, burns no bridges -- and gets to enjoy the summer working.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Setting things right when things go your way

It doesn't take much to figure out that when a business overcharges you or doesn't get you the right products you ordered that the right thing is to make the business set things straight. But what about when a company errs in your favor?

Let me tell you about D.G., a reader from Connecticut. Some time ago, D.G. wrote me to let me know how important it was not only to correct businesses when they overcharge a customer, but also to let those companies know when they have mistakenly given you "something extra or not deserved."

In such instances, D.G. writes: "You have an obligation and duty to try to make things right."

D.G. isn't just talking a good game.

While he says that he writes "many letters complaining about poor service," he is also quick to write a letter when he has received something by mistake or that he does not deserve.

He leaves it up to the recipients of his letters to decide what to do once he has sent off his correction.

After D.G. had rented a car in Colorado for three days, for example, he received a bill that only charged him for two days. A letter went off to the rental car company informing it of the mistake. He has not heard back from the company.

When he used accumulated frequent flier miles to take a free trip, D.G. received mileage credit for that free trip he shouldn't have. "I wrote and pointed this out, but it was never corrected," he writes. In the same letter, D.G. had thanked the airline for getting him to his destination during a major snowstorm. He wonders if the airline receives so few letters of thanks that it just let him keep the miles.

Several years ago, when D.G. was in Japan, he ran up a hotel bill of roughly $2,000. Because the bill was delayed for more than three months, the total shot up to $2,300 because of currency rate changes. He refused to pay the extra $300 and disputed the bill for almost nine months, arguing that had the hotel processed his bill in a more timely fashion he would not have been assessed the extra charge. Eventually, the hotel sent him a letter telling him it planned to write off the entire $2,300 as a loss.

"I wrote back and sent a check for the $2,000 I felt I owed," writes D.G. "It would have been completely unethical to do otherwise."

D.G. wasn't trying to get out of paying his bill. He merely wanted to be charged fairly. When the hotel caved on its demands, D.G. wanted no part of it. He owed what he owed, he figured, and he was obligated to pay up.

"To be truly ethical," writes D.G., "I believe people have an obligation to correct mistakes that fall to their favor or against them."

D.G. is right. In each instance, he did the right thing by alerting companies when they made a mistake in his favor. How those companies choose to respond is up to them, but it would be good practice to let customers like D.G. know how much they appreciate their honesty.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing:Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Friendship can help erode barriers

A reader in Ohio has muscular dystrophy.

There are more than 30 diseases that fall under the categorization of muscular dystrophy, but roughly 50 percent of all cases of childhood muscular dystrophy are reported to be Duchenne muscular dystrophy. Currently, there is no cure and a person's muscular dystrophy grows worse as his muscles weaken. According to the Centers for Disease Control, about 400 to 600 boys born in the United States each year are born with Duchenne and Becker (which typically occurs later than Duchenne) forms of muscular dystrophy.

For years, my reader writes that he was able to get around without the aid of a wheelchair. But over time, his muscles have deteriorated to the point where he is beginning to need his wheelchair full time to get around.

"My friends and family mean everything to me and I depend on them a great deal," my reader writes. "My friends and family are doing whatever they can to make their homes accessible for me so I am not left out of activities."

But my reader knows that his wheelchair can be unforgiving when he tries to navigate around doorways or across hardwood floors. He knows that rubber tires might sometimes leave marks on rugs or carpeting. Inevitably, he says that he knows that he will damage something in someone's home.

"I will feel terrible about any damage I cause," he writes.

He wants to know what he should do when he damages something. Complicating matters is that many times, he will have no idea that he's damaged something unless someone points it out to him.

"I want to be invited, and I also want to be a good guest," he writes. "But I can't fix every scratch I may make or clean every tire track I leave on the rug."

He wonders what he should do.

The right thing for my reader to do is to enjoy the company of his friends and family as much as he possibly can.

Like anyone else, he should take care not to mindlessly damage or dirty wherever he happens to be visiting. But it's clear that he already is considerate and knowledgeable about the havoc a wheelchair might cause in an area not built to accommodate wheelchairs.

Because he has a good relationship with his friends and family, when he is invited to their homes, he should let them know -- if they don't already -- that his wheelchair may leave a scuff mark or two and that it's challenging for him to navigate through narrow doorways or tight turns. Any accommodations they can make without going to great expense would reflect their desire to continue to have him be part of their gatherings.

If he does notice that any damage has been caused, then, like any gracious guest, the right thing is to apologize for any inconvenience caused.

As his disease progresses, he will likely have many challenges facing him. With the support of his family and friends, worrying about whether or not he can be at ease in their homes should not be one of those challenges.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

Driving high and paying the consequences

A reader in Ohio is at a loss about what to do.

A friend of a friend of hers, writes my reader, drives while "being impaired by marijuana." She's worried that the driver, who lives in her neighborhood is endangering the life of her friend, who sometimes rides with her, and her family, who share the same roads.

Apparently, the fellow has already caused an accident that injured another driver, but, "clearly that wasn't a wake-up enough call to stop."

My reader says she has considered speaking with the impaired driver's wife to share her story about one of her relatives who is serving jail time for a fatal drunk-driving accident and the impact it has had on her family. She'd emphasize the possible consequences for the wife: "death (since impaired drivers tend to kill people riding in their cars), injury, possible lawsuits and loss of a breadwinner." The driver and his wife have three children.

Since the wife does not seem to object to her husband's behavior, my reader considers the odds of this approach being successful to be very low.

She also has considered calling in and reporting his behavior to the authorities, which, she reasons, "could result in additional legal action that could also cost the family its breadwinner."

But calling in to report the driver worries my reader, since it might lose her the friend who sometimes rides with the dope smoking driver if the friend finds out she reported the driver.

"Are there other options I have available to me?" she asks. "Ethically, I feel I need to do something."

My reader's concern about her friend's safety should trump her worry that she will somehow annoy her by calling attention to the impaired driver's actions. The safety of her friend, her own family, her neighbors and anyone else who comes across this fellow's driving path trumps other concerns she's raised.

While the reader doesn't believe the driver's wife will act on her concerns, my reader should exercise whatever routes she can reasonably and legally undertake to try to get this fellow off the road when he is under the influence. She should also stress to her friend that she risks her own life every time she rides as a passenger with this fellow when he is high.

Of course, she has no way of knowing for certain when the driver is operating under the influence. Calling the authorities to register a complaint that she suspects a neighbor of hers sometimes operates under the influence of marijuana is not likely the most effective approach to solve this neighborhood problem. But if she sees him driving erratically in her neighborhood, the right thing is to call the authorities and register her concern. Again, safety trumps concerns about hurt feelings.

But concern about safety sometimes also trumps fearing that you will come off as preachy or judgmental for trying to right some wrong. The consequences of doing nothing in this situation far outweigh the alternatives.

"I don't want to do nothing and later wish I had after someone is harmed," writes my reader.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business," is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

Flying high with integrity and honor

I'm not the most confident airline passenger. Regardless of how many times Bernoulli's principle is explained to me, I'm still a nervous flier.

So I'm not one to complain about long security lines. I figure anything that results in delaying my having to set foot on an aircraft is not a bad thing. Besides, I'm all for the Transportation Safety Administration folks doing whatever they can to make my flights safe.

I was a bit surprised, but not displeased, to learn awhile back that as part of its "competency development activities" in the area of integrity and honesty, the TSA recommends two of my books, one a collection of early "The Right Thing" columns.

The TSA defines integrity and honesty reflected in someone who "behaves in an honest, fair and ethical manner," someone who "shows consistency in words and actions" and someone who "models high standards of ethics."

Does knowing that the TSA uses my books as part of its training diminish my fear of flight? Not really. I've yet to see a TSA operative on break thumbing through the pages of one of my works, and even if I had, I'm not certain the most ethical TSA agent in the country has anything to do with ensuring the mechanical workings of the planes I'm about to board.

But its use of the books reminded me that some time ago, I learned that Microsoft also lists "The Right Thing" book as a recommended title on its education site in the integrity and trust competency area.

When I first learned this some years ago, I found it curious since one of the columns in the book calls into question Microsoft CEO's admonition to his employees to act with consistent values. In a message to the company's employees, the CEO wrote values "must shine through all our interactions -- in our work groups, across teams, with partners, within our industry, and, most of all, with customers." At the time I wrote the column, Microsoft was embroiled in antitrust issues that called into question its own consistency with what it claimed to value.

Do I have a responsibility to check with Microsoft to see if it knew it was recommending a book that questioned the company on the very issue for which it was recommending my book? Perhaps I'd be surprised that this was precisely why the company chose the title. Then again, it's the last chapter in the book, so whoever chose the title might not have gotten that far.

It's a question that's gnawed at me for some time. The right thing, I figured, was to let the folks who read the book decide for themselves if it was useful in spite of or because of that Microsoft chapter.

If the contents of the book provide TSA workers or Microsoft employees with any insight into behaving with ethics and honesty, that would be a good thing. It might not comfort me about the reliability of my computer software or the safety of being 35,000 in the air, but it might reassure me about the character of the people building the software and working the front lines of safety.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

It's not the gift, it's the equity that counts

"I need your advice," a reader from Southern California, writes.

Since my reader raised her two stepchildren from the time they were 7 and 5 years old, she considers them her kids. "So I am grandmother to seven and great-grandma to five."

One of her granddaughters has three children and, after the first of the year, is planning to marry a man with three children of his own. For the past five years, while her granddaughter has been going to school, my reader has been helping to support her and her children.

"I have been Santa to them also," she writes. She gives her granddaughter's three teenage children $200 and a gift at Christmas.

Her granddaughter's fiance's three children are about the same age, but she has only seen them four times since they live about 100 miles away from her.

"My question is: Should I give them the same $200?"

If not, she wants to know if she should give it to them after her granddaughter's marriage early next year.

"I have tried to keep things even with my grandchildren and great grandchildren unless there is a special need," she writes. She always asks the parents of the kids if it is OK for her to give a gift of any sort.

Clearly, my reader is quite generous to her granddaughter and her granddaughter's children. What's also clear is that, from early on, she hasn't made a distinction between children and stepchildren. So it would be in keeping with the way she's led her parental life to treat her granddaughter's stepchildren just as she does her granddaughter's children.

For my reader to start drawing a distinction now between stepchildren and biological children when it comes to gift giving would seem to fly in the face of how hard she seems to have tried to avoid such distinctions in the past.

There is no reason that she must start giving the same types of gifts to her granddaughter's fiance's children until after the wedding. Of course, children talk, so it would be understandable if my reader wanted to avoid any awkwardness around gift-giving time. While it's her call, if she does decide to give such sizeable gifts to her granddaughter's fiance's children, my reader might want to clear it with their father, just as she clears such things with the parents of her own grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

Even after the marriage, while she may be committed to treating all the children equally, there is no reason that she must continue to give each of the kids $200. How much she decides to give, or whether she decides to gives gifts instead of cash, is totally up to her.

In the past, I've made clear that I believe there is nothing inherently unethical about a parent doing more for one child than for another if the parent believes it appropriate to do so. Such decisions are totally at the discretion of the parent.

But to my reader, "keeping things even" is an expressed goal. The right thing is for my reader to be true to her convictions and not draw any distinction among her great grandchildren.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

Speaking up to bad public behavior

We've all witnessed bad behavior in public.

Dave H., a reader from Sacramento, Calif., is perplexed about an appropriate response to the many such incidents of "boorish behavior" in public he has witnessed.

A few weeks ago, just before he pulled up to a stoplight at an intersection, the passenger-side door of a car in the lane next to him opened up. The woman inside the car reached out and emptied a bag full of garbage onto the street -- fast-food wrappers, banana peels, tissues, and "who knows what else," he recalls.

"I gave her my best look of stern disapproval," Dave H., writes. "But as we sat there waiting for the light to change, I wanted to do something else, perhaps a short teachable moment lecture, but I could think of nothing."

Dave has had similar feelings in the past when witnessing other bad public behavior such as people talking in a movie theater or people sneaking unpaid samples of fruit or nuts at the market.

"When one observes these types of behaviors," Dave asks, "is it ethical to allow such incidents to go by without comment?"

My neighbor, Ray, wouldn't likely think so.

Last summer, when we were at the movies, a distracting glow emanated from several seats in front of us. It took a while to become clear that the glow was the light coming from a young man's cellphone on which he was texting.

Many moviegoers noticed, but it was Ray who got up, tapped the fellow on the shoulder, and asked if he could take his phone outside the theater if he needed to use it so the rest of the audience wouldn't be disturbed. The young man slunk down in his seat and turned off his phone for the rest of the movie.

Ray wasn't aggressive in approaching the texter. But he refused to allow one person to disrupt the rest of the audience without saying something to the disrupter.

Ethics is "how we behave when we decide we belong together," write Margaret Wheatley and Myron Kellner-Rogers in their book, A Simpler Way (Berrett-Koehler, 1996). Dumping trash onto public streets and texting in the movie theater are not widely accepted ways of "belonging together." Each incident reflects unethical behavior.

In addressing the texter in the movie theater, Ray acted ethically to address the wrong-headed behavior. But those who didn't speak up were not wrong, just as Dave H. was not wrong in not giving his litterer a "teachable moment."

When faced with many possible right choices, the challenging part of doing ethics comes in figuring out what is the best right thing to do. Giving a stern look at the litterer may have been the best right choice Dave H. could muster at the time. Given a few minutes to reflect -- as Ray had time to do after witnessing the texter's glow -- Dave might have come up with an even stronger right response.

He did the right thing though by signaling his disapproval to the litterer. Sure, the litter remained on the road and the likelihood that the culprit will strike again is strong, but as long as there are people who are willing to address inappropriate behavior as it occurs, there's hope that the majority of us will continue to refrain from boorish behavior . . . and recognize it when we see it.

Jeffrey L. Seglin is the author of The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business.

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be defaulters

His intentions were good. About seven years ago, a father, then 60, wanted to help his son, then in his late 30s, finance the small business he had started. Against his wife's advice, the father took out a home equity loan and borrowed just over $330,000 in his and his wife's name to loan their son.

During this time, the mother says, their son used the money to maintain "a very lavish lifestyle."

Initially, the son made a few payments on the borrowed money, but then he stopped. Soon, however, the son stopped making monthly payments on the debt. The bank sold off the debt to a collection firm.

The father and mother were on the hook for the money, since it had been borrowed against the value of their home.

The couple paid a lawyer roughly $2,500 to negotiate with the collection firm, which agreed to settle the $330,000-plus debt for $100,000. The couple paid off the $100,000 this past spring.

The son has tried, unsuccessfully so far, to get a loan under his own name, so he can pay back $100,000 to his parents.

The father, now in his late 60s, and the mother, now in her early 60s, are still working, but find themselves with a depleted nest egg and a tarnished credit rating because of their son's failure to honor his commitment to them to pay back the home equity loan.

The mother asks if their son owes them the $330,000 originally borrowed, or the $100,000 that the couple negotiated as a settlement.

Her husband keeps telling her that his accountant tells him that legally the son only owes them the $100,000. But she disagrees and wants to adjust his inheritance by the $330,000, "which would mean he would get very little."

"What is the fair and right thing to do?" the mother asks.

It's clear the mother is very upset with her son's behavior. But since she and her husband will only be out of pocket the $100,000 plus the $2,500 in legal fees, the right thing is for their son to repay them those amounts.

Granted, by defaulting on the loan payments, their son wrecked his parents' credit rating. But sadly, that's a risk they took by agreeing to put their house on the line for a loan they gave him on his fledging business.

His mother is upset that her son used the $330,000 in part to sustain his lavish lifestyle. But since she and her husband are only liable for $100,000 of that debt, that plus the legal fees are what they're owed.

If the parents want to adjust their son's inheritance, they can do that. They have the right to do whatever they want with their money.

But when they entered into the agreement with their son to borrow against the equity in their house to help him financially, they knew the risks they were taking when they did that. No adjustment to an inheritance will get their credit rating back or change how their son behaved once they loaned him the money.

Thankfully, the mother has gotten her husband to agree not to loan their son any more money to help him with his business.

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@omcast.net.

(c) 2011 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune Media Services, Inc.