... a few ethical dilemmas of our own.
Our family for decades has had a daily conversation in union with the Creator that in part begins with these words, “God bless us everyone today. Keep us well and happy, safe and strong … ”.
These sentiments have been with our human species as long as recorded history has been written out, as well as passed along orally, within the stories of the ancients.
Living life is always making these conditions of wellness and happiness tricky, leading frequently to ethical dilemmas. The dictionary defines ethical dilemma as “a situation in which a difficult choice has to be made between two courses of action, either of which entails transgressing a moral principle”.
Observing the Greek antiquity suggests these ethical paradoxes or moral dilemmas, have been with humankind for millennia. The Romans too, have their examples. Eastern thinkers share their intentions as well, throughout the ages.
Here following are a few ethical dilemmas of our own.
… leaving unanswered hypotheticals hanging.
In late 1979 I worked for a short time as a draftsman for an architect in Key West. The architect happened to also be the Mayor of the City. I recall his spouse saying to me, in general terms, if you were not a ‘conch’, (native to the Keys) you really were not welcome in the region. Fate would have it that my fiancé’s red rabbit VW was totaled curbside by a totally inebriated woman, thus forcing us to leave the city, traveling to the Mideast to acquire replacement wheels. We returned to Florida after the holidays via New Rochelle, however travelled only as far as Boca Raton in West Palm Beach County. I went looking for work.
I was hired rather promptly at an architectural office off the main thorough fare in town. It was not a high-paying position, all the same the job was steady work, near the apartment we shared with Stacey’s sister. The immediate office supervisor was loud and seemingly unprofessional as a project manager. Within a day or two of employment, one of the higher up staff members approached me with a proposition. He and two other fellows had schemed a plan of whereby I would act as an accomplice to make some fast cash. Now, I had already seen some questionable shenanigans with these fellows. They would casually speak and point to floor plan drawings locating a floor safe in an A1A residential mansion, within a walk-in closet. It is not clear, but the crux of the conversation went something like this, someone owed someone, a ‘favor’.
The unsavory characters, let's call them Larry, Curly, and Moe, wanted me to say to the personnel Director that I had seen the ad for the position I was hired to do, in New York Times classified. They showed me the classified, with the terms for a new hire, to receive a $2,000 signing bonus. The deal was this: I would receive $500 and the remaining three quarter amount of currency would be a three way split between Larry, Curly, and Moe. Fast cash.
I got to thinking after leaving work that Friday about the ‘offer’, but something certainly wasn’t ringing right with the moral components, as well as, a potential for huge legal risk if I agreed to the deal. I talked it over with Stacey. My curiosity centered on what may happen if somehow I lost the job within the next 90 days and the company demanded their two grand back? I would only have $500, but, I would need an additional three times that to make good on a refund. Skepticism crept into the conscious, just as in Greek antiquity, leaving unanswered hypotheticals hanging.
We left Florida.
This may have been my first adult ethical dilemma, of any merit, that I had encountered in life to date. Does one take the risk, make a fast 5C note, or does one forgo the secure work and live with the decision not to be dishonest? I went back in the office following the weekend, stating I would have to quit my job, barely a week in there. Larry, the ring leader, asked if the decision had anything to do you with the $2,000 split? I answered in the negative to the question, and, half truthfully said my problem was being unable to work with my immediate supervisor, who was loud and seemingly unprofessional. I exited then and there, no transactions promised, none made.
I went on to another job as a dishwasher, down the street, eating prime rib meats off dinner plates that came through the diner’s window on the conveyor, untouched from an elderly Boca Raton clientele dining out. There was later another restaurant, with more drama, more ethical dilemma, with crude and unscrupulous people. We left Florida.
… income opportunities complicated daily life
In the early eighties, I was in my late twenties, living in Athens County, OH. As an unregistered architect my dream, one might say, my aim of the time, was to be out in warmer weather before and after summer months, constructing buildings. In the colder months of the year before and after winter days, I would be inside drawing the building which was planned to be constructed in the Spring. Yes, it did work for sometime, as I was a general contractor for the work I had drawn, and other work performed under an apprenticeship of an architect. Certainly, the overall objective was to obtain registered architect status.
One day I received a call from a couple men saying they, as building owners, needed to secure a building permit from the State of Ohio so they could open up their business, which may have functioned as eating facility. The details escape me now. At that time in Ohio, one did not need to be a design professional with a registration or certification from the state to submit and obtain building permits. In fact, I had a record of being able to secure such permits, ahead of this call from these owners.
You should also know at this time in the Mideast, and particularly Ohio, the economic climate for work was becoming dire. Recently married, with a child on the way, income opportunities complicated daily life.
I am registered in two states today.
I met with the owners at this site, near the city limits, on a parcel of land. The land had typical rolling hill contours, as did neighboring lots, this one with a structure already built into the landscape. A creek meandered under the building, not unlike Fallingwater in Western PA, but then again, not like it at all. This building was not a work of art. As the discussion of the programmatic elements progressed, one of the gentleman threw out a red flag of a proposition. For whatever the reason, or reasons, the people who were to hire me to certify drawings for a building department, strongly requested that I should not show the creek running underneath the building.
Maybe their request seemed insignificant to them, even appropriate in their minds. In my mind it was consequential to have this omission not to be shown on a drawing, that was being prepared to be submitted for approval to the State of Ohio plan certification and compliance department. Whether the gentlemen knew it or not, the state official would come by to inspect, to verify the drawings approved, by plans examiner in the office, were indeed being followed and complied with the actual construction being built on the site. If the field inspector saw there was not a creek flowing underneath the building, ie. not shown on the documents, all sorts of questions would arise and would have to have been answered promptly, once posed, to the author of the documents.
Whether or not I answered that day, or a few days later with the response that I cannot be a service on this project, is really immaterial to the history we discuss here. The ethical dilemma was obvious and logical, firmly, the suggested proceeding proposition would have been unethical. At some point in time, I wanted to sit for the exam to be a registered architect. The decision to choose within the choice of an ethical dilemma, one, provide for the family with compensation, or two, risk never being an architect, made for an easy choice. I am registered in two states today.
… moving forward with truth in mind, will always be the correct philosophy.
Later back then, I found myself employed as a cook in a small popular restaurant and bar, the Hobbit House, containing a 65 seat maximum arrangement. First o worked the 3 to 11 dinner shift, later switched to the 8 to 4 lunch shift, for a full year. There was no personal moral dilemma for me to contend with at the great eatery, but one coworker had absolutely had an ethical paradox that cost her, her job. I often wonder how her life progressed after that situation. We lost touch.
That recession in the early 1982 forced us to relocate the family to a different state which had a lot of construction work ongoing, where Ohio had none.
I can share numerous other stories, some contemporary, some familial, some cultural. In a later message perhaps the pen will strike us to do so. However now, with all exuberance, I express whole-hearty to our loyal readers of these messages, a desire to read one of your own interpersonal ethical dilemmas. How did the dilemma affect your life, was their good or bad outcomes? Nothing embarrassing, just edification for the rest of us what lesson(s) were gleaned. Life events tell me the examples I have written here are mild, with rather straight forward answers to resolve them, as compared with so many challenges other people experience. Good person, hard life, right?
A zoetic message, given me persistently in my own life, is the old adage, ‘Honesty is the best policy’! It may not be the easiest moral principle to abide, yet, moving forward with truth in mind, will always be the correct philosophy.