Best of Djere: Ethical Immorality

09/16/2008, 3:00 pm -- by Djere | No Comments

Originally published, July 2007.

unethical — not being in accordance with the rules or standards for right conduct or practice.
immoral — deliberately violating accepted principles of right and wrong.

The terms are used almost interchangeably these days, and I don’t know just how fair that is. In case this is your first visit to the planet, welcome to America, land of moral relativism.

Morality speaks to the inherent right-ness or wrong-ness of a given action, thought, or behavior. Regardless of the current pulse of the nation or flavor of the week, Morality exists and has existed from beyond the beginning of time.

Ethics are different. The problem with ethicality is that it changes from person to person, culture to culture, and time to time. I define ethics as the application of your values.

values — the ideals, customs, institutions, etc., of a society toward which the people of the group have an affective regard. These values may be positive, as cleanliness, freedom, or education, or negative, as cruelty, crime, or blasphemy.

Think of the things you value — freedom, money, family. The application of your values — which values take priority over other values — now that’s where you create your ethics. If a business organization places a high value on integrity or truthfulness, part of their code of ethics will reflect that importance. If a member were to deal unfairly with an associate, his actions would be unethical — contrary to the values of his organization.

Personal and organizational ethics are derived from values. Values are based upon two things — both a little farther removed from the lofty ethical ideals we think of as right and wrong. First, we base our values on likes and dislikes, two things which interact, change, morph, and ebb and flow as the years pass. Second, we base them on our experiences and observations.

Likes and dislikes, experience and observation give us the why behind the values which gives us the why behind the ethics. Like a pyramid, many experiences and observations combine into our likes and dislikes. Many likes and dislikes combine into our values. Several values combine into our ethics. The truest state of our ethics come from the bottom up, percolating from our past into our future.

Standing alone are morals. Being a Christian, I cannot believe anything but that morals are absolute. There is absolute supreme truth, and it is real and substantial. If morals are the thing, ethics are the shade, the shadow, the human approximation.

With the regeneration of ourselves through the redemptive work of Christ *should* come the regeneration of our code of ethics. Working in the hearts of men, the Holy Spirit Himself transforms us from the top down.

Nothing can change your past — your experiences, your observations, your hurts and past sins. What changes is your response to them, the forgiveness you receive, and hopefully, your values.

Dramatic Irony

09/16/2008, 10:53 am -- by Steve | No Comments

Every Monday night, I join some friends from work at a British pub for a written trivia quiz. Our performance has been slightly above-average: an admirable result, as the questions often focus on obscure African geography and the duration of the Peloponnesian War. We’re good, but we’re not always 460 BC good.

Amidst the quiz, there are three “beer questions” — yell out the answer first and win whatever you’re drinking. Since what I’m always drinking comes with free refills anyway, my interest is less fevered than those who shell out $5 a pint; in fact, I’d never even bothered to answer before.

Until last night’s first beer question: “What organization’s official publication is The War Cry?”

A second of silence, then my voice, alone in the pub: “The Salvation Army!”

And that’s how a teetotaling organization won a teetotaling man a free beer.

Joke of the Day, 9/16/08

09/16/2008, 7:00 am -- by Bweinh | No Comments

What do you call cheese that isn’t yours?

Nacho cheese!

Another Dissatisfied Searcher

09/15/2008, 1:58 pm -- by Steve | No Comments

Amidst our daily referrals of those searching for Navy boot camp information and analysis of Yerma came:

14 Sep, 22:22 — “sarah plain [sic] in a bathing suit”

And to think, that person’s vote counts just as much as yours does…

The Council’s Ruling — Private Lives of Politicians

09/15/2008, 12:30 pm -- by Bweinh | No Comments

This and every Monday, the Bweinh!tributors, having convened in secret for hours of reasoned debate and consideration, will issue a brief and binding ruling on an issue of great societal import.

This week’s question — How relevant is a political candidate’s private life to his or her performance in office?

The Council was unable to agree on a rationale, but gives a tentative ruling of “relevant.”

David offers this opinion, joined by Djere and Connie:

Very relevant. A person is nothing more than the sum of their actions and how they have responded to their failings — moral or otherwise.

Connie offers this opinion, joined by Job:

It speaks to one’s character, so I believe it is quite relevant. Important potential life-changing decisions are made based on this same character.

Kaitlin offers this opinion, joined by Steve and Tom:

In an ideal world, personal morality would be directly proportionate to leadership ability. In the real world, candidates’ private lives have little bearing on how well they will lead.

Steve offers this opinion, joined by Kaitlin and Tom:

Somewhat relevant — especially if it could be used as blackmail — but fortunately for mankind, a bad person can still make a good leader.

Chloe offers this opinion:

Moderately relevant — a politician’s integrity can be measured by the self-restraint in his or her private life. However, the media has used politicians’ private lives to obscure the true issues and sway voters in one direction or the other.

Josh dissents, joined by MCB:

If it’s the candidate from the party I oppose, personal problems are irrefutable proof that he is incapable of running the nation, since he can’t run his own life. If it’s the candidate from my party, it’s completely irrelevant; please stop persecuting the man during a difficult family time.

Erin and Mike played no part in the determination of this issue.

Next time: If you had to eat the same meal for lunch for the rest of your life, what would it be?

McCain Down 5 — in NEW YORK

09/15/2008, 12:19 pm -- by Steve | 1 Comment

I don’t believe it’s accurate, and I certainly won’t suggest that he has a shot to win, but it’s worth noting — especially for those who think their votes meaningless — that the latest Siena College poll shows only a 46-41 deficit for McCain here in New York, down from 51-33 three months ago. More discussion here and here.

How long will it be before Biden is forced out for our junior senator?

Quote of the Day, 9/15/08

09/15/2008, 7:00 am -- by Bweinh | 1 Comment

“If you worship money and things, if they are where you tap real meaning in life, then you will never have enough, never feel you have enough. It’s the truth. Worship your body and beauty and sexual allure and you will always feel ugly. And when time and age start showing, you will die a million deaths before they finally grieve you.” — D.F. Wallace (2/21/62-9/12/08)

A Brand-Newer Chick Tract Answer!

09/14/2008, 12:00 pm -- by Steve | No Comments

Aaaghhhh!! What has Igor done???

If you picked “Been conceived as the son of Satan and Vampira,” you’re a winner!!

Yes or no, turkey?!

From the Phone 3

09/13/2008, 3:41 pm -- by Tom | No Comments

“I’ve never seen a PT Cruiser driver and thought, ‘You know, I was wrong about them.’ “

Four Weeks (Part Six)

09/12/2008, 2:00 pm -- by Steve | 1 Comment

Read the series in parts: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Josh delivered me to the Staten Island ferry terminal deep in the middle of the night. I walked up the stairs through a deserted station to the waiting area, where my two bags were reasonably sniff-searched by a friendly officer and his taciturn dog. The boat itself was near-empty, containing the usual suspects: sleeping homeless men bound down for the next in a series of 30-minute naps; a few Type A white collars, off to put an early chokehold on the workday; small groups of nocturnal young men in gold chains.

I remember the exceptions very well. A 40-something black woman comforting two young children. The occasional solitary young woman, with omnipresent iPod and steely, self-reliant New York eyes. The unkempt man who screamed nonsense at the top of his lungs: like many of us, very angry about something he couldn’t quite express.

On my quarter-mile walk to the subway station, I slung my carry-on around my neck and struggled to smoothly heft my suitcase. Rolling bags were not designed for those of two-meter height. Lumbering down the sidewalk, I was startled by a horn from the street. Ten feet away, a cab had stopped in the middle of the road. Its driver looked at me expectantly, eyes and mouth open wide, gesturing to the back seat like a taxicab Messiah. “Behold! Thy salvation cometh!”

I let him down as gently as I could and descended into the bowels of the city to catch the 4 train north. The crisp, cool harbor air quickly gave way to the humid, sinister dankness of the underground. I took out my voice recorder to both capture and fight off the eerie noir. I felt safe because the setting was so impossibly clichÃ©d. True evil hides.

I switched to the JFK-bound A, boarding a car containing three other passengers, which seemed perfect. No large drunken groups, no danger from solitude. You may not always be able to count on help, but some chance beats none. If I’d been in the car with that hammerer, the story would have ended differently, one way or another. All it takes sometimes is one person who acts.

But if your troubles are more pedestrian, you may not want me in your car. We neared JFK and my closest neighbor was an elderly Chinese woman clutching a small suitcase. Both of us had been sleeping, but she had not awakened. I didn’t know if there was another JFK stop, or if she was headed elsewhere, or if she spoke English, or (God forbid) if she had died — so I took the cowardly middle ground, making as much noise as I possibly could without touching her. I slammed my bags, I cleared my throat, I even faked a sneeze. Nothing.

I got off alone. I watched the subway slide down the tracks; it still held the woman, who, still, held her suitcase. The sun was rising, and before the workday ended, I would be in California. I hope she got where she was meant to be.

One Hundred Words (33)

09/12/2008, 10:15 am -- by Steve | 2 Comments

My umbrella broke last week: stuck closed, locked up, defeated by the rust of a year.

I came outside today to a warm and steady rain, harder than drizzle, softer than patter. There was nothing to do but walk, as my suitcoat swerved from black to dappled grey to darkest black again. Soaked through, I walked and prayed, waited at — and waded through — busy, car-choked intersections, and skidded along uneven stones that mark the upscale sidewalks.

I will get an umbrella soon. I need one. But this morning, life felt more real and imminent. Dressing up, walking out, facing the rain, alone.

–sm

Joke of the Day, 9/12/08

09/12/2008, 7:00 am -- by Bweinh | No Comments

Did you hear about the blonde couple who froze to death at the drive-in? They went to see “Closed for the Winter.”

A Brand-New Chick Tract!

09/11/2008, 11:18 pm -- by Steve | No Comments

{democracy:296}

Where Were You?

09/11/2008, 2:22 pm -- by Steve | 4 Comments

Seven years ago I was a few months removed from college, a few months away from my first job, foundering about in the uncertain void that seems to precede every important decision I face. My brother was sick or feigning, home again after only four days in fourth grade, and I was awakened early that morning to keep watch.

I was at my parents’ computer when my aunt called our home phone. “I don’t know if you’ve heard yet, but two planes have crashed into the World Trade Center.” I turned to CNN and saw the replayed clips and the President’s news conference.

John remembers that I came out to the living room and made him turn off his video game. Twenty and nine, together the two of us watched, for the rest of the day. First one crowded tower fell. Then the other.

Where were you?

Statistics and Lives

09/11/2008, 11:30 am -- by David | No Comments

I read an article that noted a surprising consequence of high gasoline prices: a drop in US traffic deaths, producing the lowest figure in nearly a decade. 42,708 people died in traffic accidents in 2006; the total dropped to 41,059 in 2007. 1,649 fewer people died last year, in part because gas prices rose, people drove less, and fatal accidents occurred at a diminished rate. Statistics can be so cold and calculated.

It isnÊ¼t a crisis of faith that prompts me to think about this. I know God holds us in His hands — I’m the first to agree that we enter and leave this world on His timetable — but something about the thought of whimsical economic forces defining the boundaries of my existence baffles me. After all, you or me — either of us — could be one of those 1,649, now still free to touch and affect others in myriad untraceable ways. I guess it gets all mixed in with chaos theory, the “butterfly effect.” A dictator flaps his mouth, and on the other side of the world, 1,649 more people stay alive.

Why do I care so much about this? 43,510 people died on the highway in 2005; that’s another statistic. But one of them was more than a statistic to us. His name was Bobby, and he lived in Florida. He was 78; he had a wife; he died in an accident because my wife didnÊ¼t see his car and pulled out in front of him.

I got to pray for him and tell him, through tears of grief, how sorry she was. We shared an emergency room together — Bobby with internal injuries, my wife with a fractured neck.

ItÊ¼s been almost three years now, but sometimes the shadow of that grief passes over my wife again, and I can see it. A scene from some movie, or an offhand comment, can bring the whole thing back, and I try to comfort her. I remind her that there were extenuating circumstances. The intersection was under construction: barrels, equipment, confusing signs. Her accident was the second that day at the intersection, the sixth in two weeks. Someone was rushing her, vigorously motioning from the far side of the intersection for her to hurry up. She looked twice, both ways, and saw no one. The gentleman was speeding.

I remind her that there was an investigation, and no negligence was found. She was not speeding, talking on her cell phone, or using drugs or alcohol; in fact, in over 30 years of driving, she never had so much as a single speeding ticket on her record.

I remind her that it was an accident.

It passes eventually, and sheÊ¼s okay again. ItÊ¼s just life, and if IÊ¼ve learned anything in life, IÊ¼ve learned that everyone has to learn to live with pain. Every family has a statistic or a skeleton that can jump out of the closet at any moment and reopen old wounds.

It just seems so capricious; so arbitrary. Gas hits $4 a gallon and 1,649 people live who would have died.

But 2005 is history; unchangeable.

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