We were discussing embezzling accountants yesterday at work. Lately,
we hear about embezzling accountants an inordinate amount of the time. The last three stories involve hundreds of thousands of dollars, and long-term employees. Can you imagine walking into a place where
you’ve worked for 15 years, knowing you’re stealing from them, and
certain that you’ll continue to do so?
Anyway, from here we jump to signing your boss’s name to forms, etc.,
and finally my co-worker tells me she bought a new cell phone, and
decided, after a single day, that she’d return it because it sucked.
That first evening, she inadvertently dropped it in the toilet.
Completely ruined the phone. (And, ewww!)
The next day, she took the phone back to the store, and told them what
had happened. The store manager said they’d sign her up for
replacement insurance, and she could return the phone the following
day, change the date of the incident, and all would be well.
“But it didn’t happen like that,” my co-worker said.
“I know, but I’m the store manager, and I’m authorizing it.”
“It isn’t right.” And my co-worker left, with her ruined phone, and
plans to return it to the corporate office with an explanation of the
actual toilet incident.
Are you that honest? Brother, I’m not. And it’s hard to imagine that
honesty comes in relative shades of grey. But what I felt, during her
story, was something more like pity than admiration. There are no Mr.
Smiths in Washington. And cell phone companies routinely work us
over. She was offered a loophole, and she didn’t take it. Am I
rationalizing? Maybe. To be honest, I’m not sure.
Well, but what decision isn’t peppered with notions of relativity? There’s an absolute ideal, (ie that lying and stealing are always wrong), and then there’s a practical application.
I’m pretty sure that egoism is the driving force behind all human action. And in that case, honestly is always relative. There’s no such thing, really. The decisions you make come down to your best interests — to what makes you feel good, what you can live with.
I’ve found cash in a movie theater and given it to the usher, but I would take the new phone in a heartbeat.
In practice, I agree with you, absolutely. In theory, I’m not sure. I think what interests me most about my conversation with my co-worker is how we travelled from the theoretical in three stories, and I found myself sincerely troubled by her conviction. (Yes, I have trouble with conviction, no matter which direction it travels.) But I’ve been curious about the status of my own convictions. I’m an ethical person, not necessarily a moral one.
Am I writing myself loopholes, or is the nature of human progression analytical? Should we make our decisions from an ethical vantage first, and a moral one secondarily? Or does it really come down to individual circumstance, and ego?