For maybe the twentieth time, I'm going to quote the famous architect, Le Corbusier, who said, "God is in the details" (how his quote ever got twisted around to say, 'the devil is in the details,' I'll never know). Several years ago, the city of New York proved the truth of this statement by focusing its law enforcement on the little laws. When they did that, they caught many of the big bad guys (and gals). It seems that, if someone is a scofflaw in big ways, they're also scofflaws in little ways. The crime rate plummeted in New York City when the police started paying attention to the details.
In many ways, I am among the very fortunate very few: I have received an exceptional education. For almost fifteen years (1963 to 1977), I followed an intensive liberal arts program leading me to master's degrees in philosophy and theology. One of my specializations during both high school and college was ethics and moral theology. On the masthead of one of my websites I have the phrase, "Confessions of a moral gymnast." I didn't go through all those years of studies to learn the 'rules,' or even to learn 'right from wrong.' What I learned was a set of principles that empowered me to make ethical decisions.
It's been said that we live in a world of moral ambiguity. The term 'ambiguous' seems to infer that there's no real distinction between right behavior and wrong. Perhaps, as people are fond of saying, 'it's all what you make of it.' Or, perhaps not. In fact, what many people uncritically believe to be ethically ambiguous situations generally prove to be situations where there's a conflict of moral values. In that (relatively frequent) situation, people often lack the tools to resolve conflicts of values and they fall back on one of two positions: either a) they fall back into a simplistic legalism ("It's not illegal!") or, b) they simply do whatever it is they wanted to do in the first place ("It 'felt' like the right thing to do!").
Let me propose a very simple example of what I mean. Has this ever happened to you? Someone asks you about the temperature outside, and you recall that, when you last outside, it was 85°, so you say, "It's 85." A few minutes later, you spot an exterior thermometer that's reading 92°, so you say, "Oops! I lied, it's 92." How, I wonder, did a 'lie' (a deliberate falsification of the facts intended to deceive someone who had a right to the information) somehow become synonymous with an honest mistake? The only similarity between a 'lie' and a 'mistake' is that they both convey erroneous information. Yet, a 'lie' has ethical implications, while a 'mistake' does not.
If people can't discern the difference between a formal error and an ethical lapse, how are they ever going to be able to live lives of integrity? This isn't just hypothetical hair-splitting; this is Enron, this is Jack Abrahamoff, this is 9/11, this is the Viet Nam War, this is the Second World War. This is big stuff. If the man or woman in the street can't tell the difference between a lie and a mistake, what makes you think that, when he or she rises to a level of trust, that they're going to be able to do any better? How many executives and government officials have you met who have a degree in ethics? And yet, their decisions can have far-reaching and even severe implications.
People can evolve in the complexity and sophistication of their moral decision-making in the same way as they develop physically, mentally, or emotionally. Lawrence Kohlberg suggested a theory of moral development that moved by stages from an externally referential system (based on the fear of punishment or on conformance to laws or societal norms), to one that was based exclusively on personal core values. The highest levels of ethical behavior — rooted in a spiritual and deeply-considered integrity — derive only from deep self-awareness and the wisdom to discern genuine moral value. This doesn't come naturally and it doesn't come easily. It takes application and determination.
What does your model of ethical development look like? Have you ever taken the opportunity to examine your core values and to put them into written statements? What are you actively involved in that both assists and challenges you in your moral growth? Do your mentors and coaches encourage you to take nothing for granted, to explore the most profound depths of your personality and to move ever closer on a daily basis to living entirely in your integrity? Are you willing to take the risk to become a luminary for others, or are you content to sit in your chair like a moral paraplegic for the rest of your life? One way or another: choose.
H. Les Brown, MA, FCC
Copyright © 2008 H. Les Brown
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