Every year, a reader we're calling Bert looks forward to
his town library's massive used book sale. The sale takes place over several
days. Bert visits the sale on several days and uses the event as a way to stock
up on some of his reading for the following year.
Often, after he has finished reading the books he
purchases, if Bert doesn't want to keep them on his own shelves or if he
doesn't have a friend to whom he might want to give a copy of a book, Bert will
donate copies back to the library for it to sell at the next year's sale.
Bert writes that he's come away with some real gems over
the years, ranging from first editions of decades-old titles to paperbacks of
relatively new offerings. He's also occasionally found interesting material
tucked among the pages of his purchases such as old bookmarks with the names of
faraway bookstores; Inscriptions to prospective readers from someone presumably
giving a book as a gift; Even a personal letter or two tucked away in the
pages.
The only downside, Bert observes, is that he doesn't have
enough bookshelves to store all of his purchases. It's not unusual for piles of
books to sit by his bedside or to be stacked up on random tables and flat
surfaces throughout his house.
Because his haul of books each year is sizeable, Bert
often doesn't get around to reading each book until well after the book sale
has ended. A few weeks ago, as he was choosing a next title to take on, Bert
settled into a favorite reading chair with a book and began to thumb through
its pages. Within seconds, a piece of paper floated onto his lap. Upon closer inspection,
Bert saw that the piece of paper was a $20 bill.
Given that books at the sale are generally $1 or $2 a
copy, he rarely spends much more than $20 each year. With this newly discovered
windfall, Bert pretty much had recoupled his used book expenditures for that
previous year.
While he writes that his first reaction was one of
pleasure, he soon grew concerned that keeping the $20 might not be the
honorable thing to do.
"The library is trying to raise money by selling the
used books," Bert writes. "Is it wrong for me to keep the money
knowing that the sale is a fundraiser for the library?"
Bert should not feel any guilt about keeping the $20. If
he wants to, he can certainly donate the $20 to the library. Or he can use it
to buy an extra $20 worth of books at the next sale. Or he can simply keep the
money.
Similarly, if Bert had discovered that one of his $2
purchases turned out to be a book he could sell to collectors for far more
money, he would have no obligation to share any profits with the library.
When he purchased the books, he was buying everything
contained within their pages.
The right thing is for him to rest easy in whatever
option he decides to take and to settle in to another good read.
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net.
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin
(c) 2018 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. DISTRIBUTED BY TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.
