Thanks for a great quarter! If you haven’t already, please fill out this short feedback form so we can improve future iterations of ethics at noon: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheet/viewform?formkey=dDFjb01IeDItOTl6Z0hlUXlsZkdFTGc6MQ#gid=0. Feel free to comment on whatever you found thought-provoking about this week’s discussion, whether that be the moral significance of the normalization of deviance or how Stanford ought to balance its competing obligations to different constituencies.
David Demarest
Courage versus Culture
Watch the news and its impossible to miss the many morality plays as they unfold — whether in politics, sports, business, or even in academia. Large and small organizations all have cultures that endorse or prohibit, cultures that celebrate or condemn, cultures that expose or ignore. In the midst of those cultures, however, it’s individuals that make decisions, and their ethics and their courage to act upon those beliefs will determine how those decisions get made. This will be a conversation about real cases involving these issues and how we can learn from them.
After hearing David speak in the morning, I heard some words from former senator Russ Feingold in the evening. I was struck by how similar their goals and perhaps perceptions were, and I thought it would be interesting to discuss the application of David’s main points to the political climate of this country.
Feingold is very concerned with the level of discourse in modern-day politics. In previous decades, he recounts, there was a far higher level of respect for elected officials and for the debates that would go on between them. Nowadays, it seems that every move has been calculated for the lowest common denominator. I was struck by how this sort of gradual change is exactly what David described. First the deviation became expected. As a political culture, we have come to expect the dirtiest propagandizing and maneuvering from all sides. Next, the deviation became accepted: we shrug our shoulders and say, that’s politics. And now, we are headed towards a spectacular catastrophe.
This sort of placid tolerance for moral grime is evident everywhere, to the point where it has become the norm, and hardly a standpoint worth criticizing. Later in the evening, I was speaking with a friend who voiced the opinion that she has no real problem with the admittedly despicable behaviors of numerous politicians in their personal lives and even in the following cover-ups, so long as they fulfill their legislative and representative duties efficiently. On the one hand, it is a reminder that deviance is becoming accepted. On the other hand, it prompts a legitimate question: what is deviance?
David specializes in public affairs, and I’m sure he would have plenty to say on the importance of a polished exterior, particularly when it comes to international relations. But it is disturbing to ask the question: if we are cognizant that we are electing our leaders to be our representatives in more than just a legislative sense, that is, in values and in global affairs, and we are still accepting their deviances, are we therefore accepting that those to whom they represent us will be acquainted with us as deviants? In electing and allowing deviants to remain in office, are we effectively accepting the deviances in ourselves?
It is a critical question to be answered if we are to understand whether the personal life of a politician has any bearing on his or her professional career. If the leader is the figurehead of the nation, perhaps the nation must find the most honorable representative that it can. Of course, with the acceptance of all sorts of indisputable aberrance in modern political culture, that is not likely to happen.
I enjoyed the discussion that David Demarest led on Friday both for the honesty that was conveyed and for the information that was provided. I appreciated that David spelled out the competing interests that Stanford must appeal to, thereby clarifying the complications of his job and some of the effort that goes into making Stanford a world class university.
David’s mission to “advance and defend the reputation of the institution” may seem simple at first, but after his discussion and with a closer look at the various obligations the university has, the easiest way to complete this mission is not clearly seen. Doing the right things means different things to different people–what the donors see as a good move for the university, the city might not like. What the faculty view as best for the university, the students might not like. Having obligations to such a diverse group of interests can and does complicate things. But David seems to be handling these hurdles with honesty–a tribute not often attributed to lobbyists (at least not in the general public). This fact I appreciated most. David recognized that the credibility of the institution rested on even the small decisions not to lie (or stretch the truth) that he made everyday. Each decision he made could, David recognized, lead to a catastrophe if they were poorly made.
David’s words brought credibility to his position (and that of all lobbyists)–just knowing that they can and do work in honesty–a quality that I would loved to have found more of than in the small lobbying office I worked for during my Stanford in Washington days.
Demarest’s discussion about ethical issues as processes and not solely events brought up an interesting debate about a “what if” scenario. What if Johnson & Johnson actually went bankrupt and cost thousands of people their jobs in trying to pull Tylenol off the shelves? Ethical problems are always seen as a transition from one of an issue to expected to accepted.
However, I must argue against this process that Demarest describes about ethical cases. Sometimes, I feel that an ethical event may simply just occur, and it would be incorrect to deem it as a series of problems rather than just one. Going back to the case with Johnson & Johnson and their bleach poisoned Tylenol capsules, can that be described as a process? The “exploding” point of the case was the very start of it. Several lives had already been taken, the lives of hundreds of others were at risk while the jobs of thousands were also at risk. The ethical choice had to be made in an instant and there was simply no buildup to such an event.
His lecture, however, did raise the question of risk and reward for me. In many ethical cases, the decision always appears to be a gamble between self-interests and morality. The case for Johnson & Johnson became a gamble between the jobs of thousands of their workers and their public image and responsibilities to the health of their customers. This sort of decision really doesn’t have an apparent answer, and ultimately, the “guess” for a correct decision comes down to solely speculation of possible outcomes.
It was a refreshing experience to hear from somebody who has served in the highest circles of political and corporate leadership, yet still places a premium on integrity and keeping promises. I am further encouraged that Stanford would entrust the care of their reputation to such a leader. Relating to specifics of the talk, I was particularly struck by Demarest’s categorization of the three suitable responses to accusations of wrongdoing. “I didn’t do it.” “I did it, but it’s not what you think.” and “I did it, but I won’t do it again.” There is a subtle irony in the fact that an attitude which would lead people to answer charges incorrectly is in fact the same ethics that would lead them to commit the offense in the first place. This would seem to be quite the self-destructive cycle, and it makes sense that such cycles left unchecked can lead to Demarest’s “Massive Catastrophes.” A devious aspect of these cycles is that, like a cancer, the longer they have to grow and establish themselves the harder it is to eradicate them. I am intrigued by one of the earlier comments suggesting that our acceptance of deviance in our politicians is in fact a tacit acknowledgement of the deviance in ourselves. If this is true, than perhaps the assignment of blame for the situation of waffling positions as it stands is not ultimately on the politicians. Rather, it is the culture that we collectively contribute to that enables, indeed, is exactly represented by, these “corrupt” politicians we decry from our moral high ground. The resolution of this issue then would not then be best served by writing letters to our congressman, but by first re-establishing the primacy of integrity in our day-to-day, culture-shaping interactions with the other people we experience life with.
In Vice President of Public Affairs David Demarest’s talk, we covered the big idea of ethics. He began by telling us that to him, ethics means “doing the right thing.” Yes, of course it does. But it is not that simple, and therefore we have an entire field of study dedicated to this wide-reaching concept. What I found interesting, and we barely covered this notion, is how if you did not “do the right thing,” is that necessarily considered the wrong thing. This still involves the broadest themes of ethics, yet perhaps one of the most important. The difference between right and wrong in society is rarely clear, and the “right” to one could be the “wrong” to another. We infrequently stand on the other side of our argument, looking to understand the moral values of the other side. Sometimes, it is impossible to understand their reasoning, perhaps because it is based on religion, traditions, or other principles.
Demarest also introduces the differing, yet transforming, concept of “expected” and “accepted.” If we continue to allow mistakes or faulty behavior, these misdeeds become “expected.” This expected behavior, as Demarest explains, transforms into “accepted.” if it happens, we do not question it. That itself is ethically wrong, as we should always challenge society so as not to sink into a trench of wrongdoings. The two terms are indeed very similar in definition, with small variances by time. I believe that it is easier to stop questioning society. In Demarest’s example of the presidential election process, where candidates alter their principles towards different audiences, has become the anticipated, then an established tradition. We no longer wonder why and how this is ethically wrong.
However, dilemmas like this are not easily solvable. Even if we were all aware that these moral wrongdoings literally ruled our country, we cannot escape this viscous cycle.
I enjoyed David Demarest’s discussion because he was able to effectively integrate a coherent ethical lesson with examples from his own practical experience. In his talk, he gave focus to the parallels between corrosive effects and catastrophic failure: that in both cases a practice becomes excepted, then any moral discussion concerning it ceases, and then it becomes accepted. And at that point, no one attempts to rectify it (which could in turn prevent systematic failures). Demarest identifies leadership as the key factor that can prevent or correct these corrosive effects (i.e. the immoral practices that lead to destructive events, behavior, etc.). His personal example (of the new Bank of America CEO who changed/re-instituted the more positive culture of the company by firing profitable employees whose values were counterproductive to company culture) personally struck me because I did not realize that this type of leadership influence was so tangible in the form of actionable change within a company or group. This notion (of the importance of company culture as a mitigating agent on corrosive effects) has just been brought to widespread consciousness on Wednesday via Greg Smith’s Op-Ed column in The New York Times, “Why I am Leaving Goldman Sachs”, in which the author cited a shift in company culture as the pretext for intensified immoral business practices and increased potential for failure. Demarest’s lecture was extremely socially and politically salient in this regard, as there is increased scrutiny on the financial sector related to recent catastrophic failures. I was also interested in Demarest’s commentary about the appropriate (ethical) way to handle a mistake (or catastrophic failure). It’s very interesting that most people’s instinct (and this goes for anyone, not just public leaders) is to deny any wrongdoing, when in fact this has been repeatedly shown to be the most ineffective and immoral way to go about it. His insight is extraordinarily valuable, and if more people/organizations/companies were to go about apologizing for (actual or perceived) mistakes in an ethical manner (by either admitting the mistake but clarifying the context, or just by apologizing and showing sincere desire to reform), careers/reputations/organizations could move forward in a much more effective manner. This was a fantastic lecture to end the course with—thank you to everyone who worked hard to put this together each week!
David Demarest entered the discussion with a wealth of experiences (and unique ones at that). I enjoyed hearing about these experiences, especially from an individual who has worked closely with high profile political figures and well-established companies. I found his honest upfront declaration -that he had not to date given a presentation on ethics in society and further that he by no means could be deemed an expert on the issue- a bit perplexing. I do not wish to condemn his for his honesty. And I know/agree that there are some more steeped in knowledge and the practice of approaching a situation or analyzing a past event through an “ethical” lens, but is this not what all (every individual, no matter their expertise or particular position) regularly – or rather should regularly- engage in? It’s a bit unfortunate that we do not all identify more strongly as people who, at least do our best to, approach decisions and other situations as budding “ethic experts”.
Switching gears, I also enjoyed the opening discussion about lying. Is lying acceptable or ethical in certain circumstances? Does an individual’s perception of the truth make it true? Are there many truths to a given situation or statement? I immediately concurred with Mr. Demarest that lying is never acceptable. The corrosive nature of lying never changes. But when I reflected on the information later I could not help but jump to extreme situations in which a person’s life might be threatened if she reveals the “truth”. Perhaps in that context the circumstance minimizes or even eliminates the ethical ramifications? Perhaps not. There are also the seemingly trivial, not in any way threatening instances when people tell lies. People often employ the term fib in such cases, as the connotations seem significantly less negative, and ultimately less wrong than those of the term lie. Is the trite example of a parent telling a child or wife telling a husband that he or she did something well (and did something well at that) when they in many ways did not, okay? Whatever one’s opinion on this is, I consider Mr. Demarest’s heavily emphasized point about mistakes or wrong habits occurring so frequently that they become expected and then occurring for such an extended period of time that they become the norm, the accepted course of action, insightful and important. Although over-generalized, our American culture seems to have a tendency to fib and to lie (are the two synonymous?) out of fear of damage to their own reputation, to the consequences they will face upon revealing the truth, and to the way people around them will react to an honest assessment of another person’s decision or performance (especially close acquaintances and loved ones).
How can we transform our culture into one that acts out of courage instead? That “does the right thing”? (Even though what that is requires a whole other, lifetime of discussion as well). While I agree that leadership is an essential component, ultimately the greater mass of peoples’ willingness to engage in discussion and alter certain elements will need to be at the core of lasting, meaningful change.
I tend to agree with Professor Demarast’s characterization of failures. It is a major failing of humans in general that they tend to think of great catastrophes as flashpoint events when really they are the culmination of a serious of systemic failures. I think that he gave great examples illuminating this. The process through which people become accustomed to new developments is astounding. For instance, on the bridge named “Galloping Gertie”, people came to expect the bridge to bounce. Eventually, people accepted the bridge’s behavior and would even come to the bridge for a thrill. It came to the point when most people were surprised when the bridge finally collapsed. However, I believe that Professor Demarast gave an over-simplified view on this expectance-to-acceptance cycle by only giving negative examples. I believe that this cycle is simply dangerous and full of potential. As such, it can be used as a force for positive change as I will try to demonstrate.
Much advancement in civil rights has been made because of this expectance-to-acceptance cycle. For instance, classrooms today are not segregated along racial lines. At first, especially in the South, having desegregated classes was deemed deviant. Even after Brown v. Board of Education, classes were still segregated. However, through a slow process beginning with Eisenhower’s deployment of the military to protect the “Little Rock Nine”, the first nine black students to attend Little Rock Central High School, people became accustomed to desegregated classrooms. Having students from different cultural and ethnic backgrounds has become accepted by society as a whole: a concept which would have been deemed deviant a couple of decades ago. There are many other similar examples of the power of this cycle: to list a few, gay rights and woman’s rights. I think that people in areas with more openly gay people are more accepting of gay people because they have more exposure to them. In addition, people have come to accept the place of women in the workforce. This is not to say that any of these civil rights issues have been solved but that much improvement has been made through the expectance-to-acceptance cycle.
I think that the examples of systems leading to both negative and positive outcomes clearly illustrate a moral obligation that each of us has. It is a moral duty for the individual to be vigilant and aware of even small changes in the culture around them.
However, this does draw into question morality in general because it seems to imply that all morals are socially constructed: i.e. what is acceptable is simply a social convention. Where can we go from here if we understand that our ideas of what is right and wrong are heavily influenced by our culture? How do we have ideas of what is morally right and wrong? And how do we “impose” our beliefs on other people? For example, the issue of female circumcision in some African countries comes to mind. This is a cultural practice but seems to go against most outsiders’ view on morality. How can change be justified? Furthermore, is there a real difference in violently imposing change as opposed to setting about small changes which we think will effect a larger cultural change? Because aren’t both of these forms of coercion?
I think that Professor Demarast’s lecture opens up a whole new can of worms and that the questions it leads to are very difficult to answer. I just wish he would have addressed these concerns in his lecture but otherwise it was a great lecture.
I completely agree with Demarest’s assertion that lying is never the right thing to do, which he gave great examples of in the business and political realm. Denial and lying tend to build up, and after a while, it becomes apparent that if wrongdoers were to fess up to their mistakes in the first place, many bad situations wouldn’t reach an escalating point where so much damage had been done. So, it is important to stress this concept of honesty throughout business, politics, and really every realm of society.
However, I believe equally important a concept to stress through society is that of forgiveness. Frankly, I don’t blame politicians for lying through their teeth every time they make a mistake. The political climate has developed into one where an opponent will jump on every single mistake someone makes, and blow it out of proportion. For example, when Anthony Weiner took lewd pictures of himself, whether he would have admitted his mistake immediately or later, the repercussions would have still been pretty grave, since the opposing political side wouldn’t have accepted his apology, and would have tried to ruin his reputation either way. On a similar note, when Rush Limbaugh recently called a woman a slut but then apologized later and retracted his statement, the liberals of this country still gave (and are still giving) him a hard time for it. No progress can be made when people are willing to apologize, but no one is willing to accept the apology.
So, do I blame anyone for automatically saying “I didn’t do it!” when something bad happens? Absolutely not. It would be much easier to confess wrongdoings if society were more understanding. And although people should never do wrong, everyone makes mistakes. There needs to be a balance between saying sorry for those mistakes, and moving forward with society’s acceptance.