Jeffrey L. Seglin's Blog, page 12

When errant emails arrive, should you notify the sender?

How responsible are you for letting someone know you are receiving information you really shouldn’t be receiving?

That’s what a reader we’re calling Norman wrote to ask. For several years, Norman served on the board of a not-for-profit agency. More than four years ago, Norman stepped down from the board. He left on good terms and remains in touch occasionally with the people running the not-for-profit.

“It was a great experience,” Norman wrote, “but I knew I wouldn’t miss the regular meetings along with the slew of emails we received as board members to enable us to complete our work.”

It took a few months for Norman to stop receiving emails sent to current board members. Finally, it seemed like his name was off the routing list, but every few months it seems to creep back on.

“It doesn’t really bother me,” wrote Norman, “since it’s simple enough to ignore, although occasionally a meeting they’ve invited me to ends up on my online calendar.” That too is not a major burden, Norman wrote, as long as he remembers he doesn’t actually have that meeting to attend. (He could delete the entry if he wanted to.)

What concerns Norman, however, is he doesn’t know whether the person sending out the meeting invites or sharing information via email knows he is receiving the emails. He also doesn’t know whether others who shouldn’t be on the email routing list are receiving them as well.

“So far, nothing seems all that confidential or sensitive in the emails I’ve received,” he wrote. “But what if something more sensitive does get sent out or a document gets shared with people like me who shouldn’t be getting them?”

The errant emails arrive sporadically and without any warning, according to Norman. He’s not sure why he gets some and why he doesn’t get others. He also knows he could simply ignore the emails and delete them.

But he wondered how much responsibility he has to let someone at the not-for-profit know he is receiving the information.

Since none of the information Norman has received is neither confidential nor anything he or someone else couldn’t get from looking at the not-for-profit’s website, Norman likely could just ignore the occasional emails and delete them.

But if he is indeed concerned about the not-for-profit inadvertently running into problems down the road if the errant email practice continues, the right thing is for Norman to simply forward an email onto one of his former contacts at the not-for-profit to let them know he’s receiving email he shouldn’t be receiving.

The right thing for the not-for-profit would be to make sure only intended recipients receive the emails they are sending out. It’s not enough to just take Norman’s email off and be done with it. After that’s done, they should set up a policy of removing emails from routing lists as soon as a person’s official role is severed.

Norman should be able to rest easy that his old associates are being more careful with their communications and that anyone receiving emails from them should have.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice," is a senior lecturer in public policy, emeritus, at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

How much should we disclose about a personal illness?

Tworelated questions arose this week about how much, if anything, we shoulddisclose about a personal situation we might be going through.

Question 1: Is it wrong to share detailed personalinformation about a health condition or personal crisis on public social media?

Question 2: Is it wrong to avoid disclosing anyinformation on social media about a health condition or personal crisis if it’slikely others might be having similar experiences?

It’s not uncommon to come across a post on socialmedia from a friend or associate that recounts in details their experienceswith a health scare or a personal crisis. Sometimes these take the form ofregular posts to a social media feed. Occasionally, they take shape as afull-blown blog dedicated to the topic. Sometimes the poster limits views toonly friends. Often, the settings are for public view by anyone who has thelink.

Presumably, the first question stems from wonderingwhether it’s inappropriate for people to share their personal challenges widelyand with people they don’t know. The answer to that is simple: No, it’s notinappropriate, so long as the poster doesn't include misleading or potentiallydangerous information.

There is a long history of writers sharing personalexperiences with the world. In Darkness Visible: A Memoir of Madness, forexample, William Styron shares his experiences of dealing with his depression.

But the result of Styron’s work is not only abeautifully written book, it also provides readers who might also suffer fromdepression some solace in knowing they are not alone.

And that leads to what is presumably behind thesecond question. Is it wrong for people to avoid sharing what they might begoing through if others might benefit from knowing about their experiences?Might there be something in others’ experiences that help someone navigatingtheir own way through?

Is it wrong not to share among friends or publicly?No.

For some people, simply managing whatever they aregoing through is as much as they can handle. The thought of a larger publicweighing in on their condition might feel like too much added to an alreadyfull ration of things with which they are coping.

Neither group deserves criticism, scorn or judgmentfor their decision. If reading about someone else’s condition is not somethingyou want to do, then don’t read it. But save your criticism for somethingappropriate, say, the decision of Major League Baseball to put a runner onsecond base if a game reaches extra innings.

In deciding how much to disclose about a crisis orother situation the person experiencing it should be allowed to decide howcomfortable they are in letting the world know without the rest of us judgingthem for their decision. It’s also up to each of those people to decide howmuch of their condition they want to disclose and to how much of the world theywant to disclose it.

In Darkness Visible, Styron quotes from Dante’s“Inferno” to capture how it feels to overcome depression: “E quindi uscimmo ariveder le stelle” which he translates from Italian to English as: “And so wecame forth, and once again beheld the stars.”

Whatever way it takes to help those dealing with aparticularly challenging situation to once again behold the stars seems theright thing to do.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice," is a senior lecturer in public policy, emeritus, at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Keep the pearls, lose the rest

On July 1, I shifted toemeritus status at the university where I’ve been teaching for the past 12years. We’ve come to use “emeritus” as an honorary term where those who retirefrom a position are permitted to keep the last title they held. I’ll still haveoffice space on campus and may teach from time to time if the school would likeme to and I’m still capable of doing so.

While I will also continue to teach and consult elsewhere, Ihave set a goal for myself for the first several months of tending to arigorous purge of all of the boxes and files of materials that have accumulatedin my attic and basement at home during the past several decades of my worklife.

Along with boxes of books I’ve written and a lot of positivememorabilia accumulated are several folders of old correspondence, not all ofit pleasant. Some of my poorly written graduate school papers that I’ve keptfor some reason, perhaps hoping they would strengthen with time. (Theyhaven’t.) A pile of letters from various publishers letting me know howuninterested they were in a book proposal. A handful of letters from readersletting me know just how wrong I was in a column I had written with expressedwonderment about how I ever got asked to write a column in the first place. Anda couple of particularly tough letters from my father who was disappointedabout a decision I had made or my own disappointment I had expressed about adecision he had made.

Old notebooks, ephemera from a long-ago holiday, matchbookcovers from restaurants that must have meant something at the time (myfavorites are the ones that have pre-printed “name” and “phone number” insidethe cover nodding to the pre-cellphone method of collecting a stranger’s numberat some joint) will all be easy to part with.

But the several folders of disappointments give me some pause.Perhaps I have held onto them to remind myself of the bumps along the road tomore pleasant memories. Now, however, with this commitment to a great purge tolighten the things I carry, is it time to let these things go?

As with many philosophical questions I’ve faced over my adultlife, I turn for advice to my best friend of 55 years, who retired recentlyhimself after a long career writing for the Muppets.

“That’s what shredders are for,” he responded without hesitationafter I texted him asking advice about whether to keep any of this stuff,particularly the letters from my father. “Try to dwell on the bright moments ofthe past. Shred the letters, for it irritates you and will likely not result inpearl.”

I’ve also kept an old fax/answering machine that I haven’t usedin a decade because it had some voicemails on it from my grandkids when theywere toddlers. In finally transferring the voicemails to an online digital fileso I could recycle the machine, I came across a lovely voicemail from my father“just checking in.” It’s the only recording I have of the voice of my father, whodied in the first months of the pandemic in 2020. Keeping that message seemsthe right thing to do. It’s already a pearl.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of "The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice," is a senior lecturer in public policy, emeritus, at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

How long should we hold a grudge?

The1982 movie “Diner” is essentially about old high school friends who return toBaltimore for a friend’s wedding. In one scene that takes place outside of amovie theater, the character Billy Howard (played by Tim Daly) breaks from hisfriends, walks over to the line and punches someone in the mouth, ostensibly tosettle a score based on some long-ago infraction committed when they were inhigh school. Apparently, Billy had to wait for the right moment to even thingsup.

When I saw the movie back then, Billy’s punch got agood laugh from the audience, and then the action (such as it was) of the moviemoved on. No further mention was made that I recall of the grudge or Billy’spunch.

But Billy’s long-delayed punch raises the questionof how long we should hold a grudge, and a follow-up question of whetherpunching someone is ever an acceptable way to settle old grievances.

It’s common for people to feel slighted or aggrievedby someone else’s actions. A family member may continue to needle you about anembarrassing childhood incident you would sooner everyone forgot. A classmatewho promised you his notes from a class you had to miss never came through. Acolleague at work takes a bit too much credit for a project you eachcontributed to equally. A boss regularly fails to acknowledge you at companymeetings. Your neighbor never returned a post hole digger he borrowed fiveyears ago.

If any such issues aren’t addressed at the time,they have a way of festering and turning into something that might feel fargraver than the initial incident.

Is it wrong to hold a grudge? Not really I suppose,but it seems far healthier to learn from such incidents and decide whether torely on that same classmate again or whether the boss’ inattention at meetingsgets in the way of you doing your job and proceeding on whatever career pathyou’ve set your sights upon. With the needling family member, a better responsemight be to simply take him aside and ask him to knock it off.

But is there anything inherently unethical aboutholding a grudge if it is based on something that truly bothers you? I don’tbelieve so.

Now, to the second part of the question: Is it everOK to punch a guy waiting in line for a movie to even an old score? Assaultingsomeone in response to an old grudge seems disproportionate and wrong.

Granted, not doing so means that guy in line mightalways believe he got away with treating you badly (if he remembers you atall), but self-defense can’t be claimed by punching someone in the face whenthey least expect it.

In considering whether to settle an old score, theright thing is either to consider how to do so in a way that is proportionateto the original action, or to not let the incident fester by addressing it soonafter it occurs.

Or just chalk it up to some people not recognizinghow even the smallest of actions can be disappointing or hurtful and try to letit go.

JeffreyL. Seglin, author of "The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise tothe Top by Playing Nice," is a senior lecturer in public policy, emeritus,at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focusedon ethical issues.

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Is it OK to send workers home when the work is done?

Areader we’re calling B.D. from the Southwest is a relatively new manager at hisbusiness. B.D.’s unit of several hundred people is responsible for completingspecific tasks each workday. Over the past several months, B.D. has found thathe has been able to successfully manage his employees so they often completethe specific tasks prior to the end of their traditional work day.

In the past when this happened, which wasn’t often,B.D. wrote, “we would sit idle for a half-hour or so until the end of dayrolled around.” Now, he wrote, because of what B.D. sees as the efficiency orhis strong workers, the times they finish early are greater.

“I hate the idea of them sitting around and I wouldlike to send them home for the day when the work is done,” B.D. wrote. “Wouldthere be anything wrong with that?”

As long as B.D. doesn’t run afoul of any companyrequirements that employees must physically be present until the end of theday, I don’t see anything wrong with dismissing them when the work is done.

If it turns out that any idle time at the end of theday could be used to get a jump on the next day’s work, it would seemappropriate for B.D. to explore that possibility. But if the work is such thatit needs to be completed on a particular day, that might not be an option.

B.D. would be wise not to make this decision withoutletting his own manager know that that was his plan. There could be a reasonthat his bosses want all employees to remain at work until the end of the dayeven if his unit’s daily tasks have been completed. If B.D. doesn’t believe anysuch reasons offered are legitimate, he can decide whether he wants to push hiscase for early dismissal days when the work is done.

At the risk of sounding like I’m suggesting thatworkers should be squeezed for as much work as possible, it could also turn outthat B.D.’s employees’ efficiency reflects the chance for his company torethink how much work is expected each day from employees. Perhaps there issomething B.D. is doing with his unit that is more efficient than used inmanaging other units that could be used as a model. The end result might be anincrease in productivity all the way around — even though it would cut intoB.D.’s unit possibly getting to go home early.

In his question to me, B.D.’s motivation for wantingto let his workers go when their work is done seems clear. He believes it wouldsend a positive message to his employees and reward them for their hard andefficient work. Sitting around with nothing to do but wait for the clock totick strikes B.D. as both a waste of time and demotivating. Better to have anefficient and motivated group of employees, he figures.

Finding a way to send a clear message to hisemployees seems the right thing to do, whether that’s sending them home earlywhen their work is done or his unit serving as a model for how all units at hiscompany can be more productive.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

A peel and a peony and small acts

A good friend and I took a walk the other day. The morning chill had given way to the warmth of the early June sun, so there were many people out walking or running. As we headed up the crest of a hill, I noticed a banana peel in the middle of the sidewalk, so I kicked it to the grassy area to the side to minimize the chance that other walkers or runners might slip on it and fall.

No big deal. We continued on our walk, interrupted only briefly for a couple of cups of coffee grabbed at a nearby shop.

It was good to catch up with my friend, but I was surprised by his text shortly after our walk.

“Here’s one small thing I noticed today,” he wrote. “I, like 999 out of 1,000 people, walked around the banana peel on the sidewalk today. You picked it up and put it to the side so no one slipped on it.”

My friend took this as a sign of how unusually caring a person I am. His note made me feel good, of course. Who doesn’t like to be thought of as caring? I didn’t know he noticed my kicking the peel to the side, but I’m not convinced it was all that unusual. My friend’s eyesight is not all that great, so it wouldn’t surprise me if he hadn’t even seen the peel. And it wasn’t like I took the time to put the peel in the trash or find some compost bin into which to toss it. As caring acts go, kicking a discarded piece of fruit to the side seems low-effort.

I’m reminded regularly that in spite of a lot of noise suggesting otherwise, people do make an effort to care for one another. A few days after that walk, the woman I’d eat bees for and I returned home after a torrential downpour. We noticed that several of her recently bloomed peony plants looked like they had been trampled. She clipped off the flowers, cleaned up some of the mess, and thought nothing more of it.

That evening our neighbor rang our doorbell and apologized for the trampled peonies. It turns out that the roofers he hired had been a little too aggressive in tossing old roofing off of his house and some of it caught the wind and landed squarely on the plants. He didn’t have to come clean since we would have continued to believe that nature and not a roofer was the culprit. He offered to pay for the plants, but the plants weren’t dead and they will return next year. Nancy could have responded angrily, I suppose, but she offered him some peonies and we used his visit as an opportunity to catch up a bit.

A thoughtlessly discarded banana peel and a trampled peony plant are not earth-shattering events. It is, however, sometimes such seemingly minor things that allow us to choose to do the right thing even when no one is looking.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Choosing to say goodbye with a book

I am about to retire from myfull-time job at the university where I’ve been teaching for the past 12 years.The school has offered me an office to use in retirement and the opportunity toteach from time to time if they want me to and I’m so inclined.

For the past several weeks as this year’s classes drew to a close,I’ve been recycling unneeded items, packing up boxes and generally preparingfor the move. One can accumulate a lot of stuff in a dozen years, and slowlyI’ve been trying to winnow that stuff down to a manageable mountain. What Ihave most of is books, shelves and shelves of books.

Some are related to what I teach. Others are about topics I findinteresting or written by authors I enjoy reading, including a few formerstudents. Many are duplicates of books I have on my shelves at home.

It didn’t take long for me to figure out that many of the booksmight be as or more useful to others, particularly the students with whom I’veworked.

As current and former students have been visiting for advice orto say goodbye, I have told each of them to take any book from my officeshelves. Some students are hesitant at first, likely knowing how much I cherishbooks and wanting to make sure I actually want them to have them. Once Ireassure them, none have passed up the offer.

Some go for a particular book — something on writing or a copyof one of the books I’ve written. Others have asked me to choose a title forthem. For the latter, I always ask them what they are interested in reading.Sometimes it’s poetry. Sometimes it’s about politics. A few have asked me to choosea book for them that I found particularly useful or meaningful.

One student chose a paperback copy of George Herbert’s poetryand noted handwritten notes in the page margins. “Is this your handwriting?”she asked. I had to look at it to remember, but it indeed was my writing from40 years ago when I was in graduate school. When I confirmed it was my writing,she got a little teary-eyed, which I presumed wasn’t because the book was notin pristine condition.

Most of the students ask me to write a note to them in the book,which I gladly do.

The best part of the job has been working with students. When itcame to figuring out a way to let them know how much I have learned from themover the years, offering a book seemed the right thing to do. I have learnedsomething from each of the books on my shelves. I find some writers engaging,some challenging, some occasionally infuriating, but all salve for aninsatiable curiosity. The same is true of my experience with many of mystudents.

It would have been nice and easy to pack up the books and movethem to the new office or donate those I didn’t want anymore to my locallibrary. But I rarely choose to do anything solely because it is nice and easy.And now my former students have another little piece of my heart in print form.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

How much privacy are we owed in death?

I was 34 when my mother died the year the Soviet Union wasunraveling. I was 63 when my father died as the world entered a pre-vaccinepandemic. My parents met in Yonkers, New York, in 1943, as teenagers, andmarried in 1952. My sister and I were born roughly four years later, she inJanuary and me in December of the same year.

We weren’t afamily that shared a great deal emotionally — not a lot of hugging. Any senseof “I love you” went unspoken. My memory of my parents was in my role as theirson. I rarely if ever thought of them as the teenagers they once were, or aspeople who had lived lives of their own before I or my sister came along.

All thatchanged a few days ago after a box arrived from my brother-in-law full of filesand papers that had been in my sister’s desk when she died three years ago,shortly after my father had died.

Most of thepapers were inconsequential: old checkbooks, random receipts my father had keptfor items that must have been important to him.

Some items weremore meaningful: the crumbling wedding ketubah for my mother’s parents, myfather’s transcript from a technical high school he had been sent to as afoster child.

But perhapsmost meaningful was a shoe box of handwritten letters neatly folded inenvelopes that my father had written to my mother after he went off to college.Another collection of letters composed after I was born, when my father workedabroad while we remained in the United States, were written on lightweightairmail stationery.

Those twoperiods — when my father went off to college and later when he went abroad towork — were the only time my parents were separated for extended periods. Eachtime, he wrote faithfully.

I had noknowledge of the letters until a few days ago. When I saw them and read throughthe first one, the pangs of separation and a few lines of poetry made clearwhat they were.

I was remindedof a recent article and then book based on found letters and documents of someone’srelative who had regularly given anonymous gifts of money to those in need inhis community. That the man wanted his gifts to be anonymous was clear. Italways sat uneasy with me that the man’s desire for anonymity was not honored.That the relative in receipt of the anonymous benefactor’s documents chose totell his story and identify him was clearly the relative’s choice.

I have not yetread beyond the first of my father’s letters to my mother. If my father werestill alive, I would ask him about some of the details. The inability to do soadds to the grief I still find myself with three years after his death.

But I have comearound to believing that the relative who outed the generous relative’slargesse did the right thing. The documents had been left to him presumablywith the judgment to trust him to do what he believed was best with them.

My father neverdestroyed his letters, and now it is up to me to decide, after I read more ofthem, how widely to share their contents. I am hopeful that I too will do theright thing.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

 

When readers share wisdom or kindness, I listen

InFebruary, I received an email from M.F., a reader who lives in Mission Viejo,California. The subject line of the email was simply: “How are you?”

M.F. reminded me that he had written me 17 years agoafter reading the column when it appeared in the Orange County Register. Itseemed clear from his email that M.F. thought I worked for the Orange CountyRegister at the time, which I never did. It was one of the newspapers that ranthe column. Back then, I used the full names of readers who had written me, buta long time ago began using their initials or pseudonyms to help protect theiridentities since articles tend to have a long shelf life online.

“You were kind enough to mention my comments aboutyour ethics column in a subsequent follow-up,” he wrote. Apparently, M.F. hadbeen doing his regular search of his name on the internet “to make sureincorrect information doesn’t appear,” and our interaction came up in theresults.

“I remember your kindness,” he wrote, and he thenvisited my website to see what I was up to. “I was happy to see that you arestill writing.” M.F. closed by writing that he hoped his email finds me happyand healthy and that I “continue to do well.”

Many things have changed over the past 17 years.Back then, the column was syndicated by a different company. I was five yearsaway from accepting an offer to teach at the university from which I’m about toretire. The character of Ted Lasso hadn’t been revealed to the world yet.

Doing some internet searching of my own, Idiscovered M.F. had written me about a column I wrote finding nothing wrongwith people picking up recyclable cans from others’ town-issued recycling bins.He pointed out that such acts can divert funding from a municipality’srecycling efforts. M.F. made a valid point and I amended my advice to suggestthat if a resident wanted to give their recyclable cans to someone other thanthe town, they should consider doing so directly rather than placing them inthe receptacle issued by their town.

That original column on recycling to which M.F.responded remains the second most-viewed column on the website where I haveposted columns after they have had their run since January 2006.

I mention M.F.’s February email not because ofanything to do with recycling, however, but instead because he took the time toacknowledge my kindness for running his response. Such actions might appearsmall, but they can have an outsized impact. That readers like M.F. care enoughto take the time to write even when they have no particular question or gripesparks joy.

I ended the column where M.F.’s response wasfeatured by acknowledging that I trusted I could count on M.F. and otherreaders “to do the right thing by continuing to share their wisdom with me.”Even 17 years later, that sentiment holds true.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

(c) 2023 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNE CONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Should an adult student's bad behavior be accepted just because that's "the way they are"?

Should we excuse bad behavior fromsomeone simply because that is “the way they are”? That question arrived from alongtime reader from the Midwest we’re calling Maggie.

Severalmonths ago, Maggie was asked to fill in as a substitute instructor in an adulteducation class. “I still teach that class on occasion when the regularinstructor is not able to do it,” wrote Maggie. “I’m the only person who willcover for her … because of one person in particular.”

Thatperson “finds a way to correct me … every single class,” wrote Maggie. “Moreoften than not it is said in a very angry way.”

Maggiemade it clear to me that she does not fill in as a substitute because she needsthe money. “I am doing it only to be kind to the other instructor,” she wrote,and to be kind to those taking the class.

Afterspeaking to the people running the classes, Maggie wrote that she was told “notto worry about it, that is just the way she is.”

ButMaggie wants to know if it is really ethical to excuse bad behavior from peoplejust because that is “the way they are.”

“Isit right that we should all have to be careful around someone who is mean toothers just because they are always cranky and mean?” Maggie asked. “At whatpoint do they have to take responsibility for their bad behavior?”

Maggiewondered if it was reasonable to talk to the challenging student and try to gether to behave better. “Or is this a lost cause because ‘that is just the wayshe is’”?

“Itreally does make it hard to have a good attitude while teaching,” Maggie wrote.

WhileI agree with the observation that some students can just be negative, I do notagree that Maggie should accept such behavior in her class if she believes itis affecting the rest of the students’ ability to learn and her own ability toteach.

Teachingcan be challenging, and as Maggie has discovered, there’s no guarantee thatevery student will be positive and receptive to learning. If Maggie gets no joyfrom substituting as a teacher for this class and she doesn’t need the money tolive on, she would not be wrong to walk away. While the rest of the studentsmay be terrific, it only takes one negative voice or disruptive student toaffect the entire class.

Butif Maggie would like to continue to teach, I believe the right thing is to talkto the negative student in as frank a manner possible. Not to scold her or totell her to keep her mouth shut, but to let her know that her comments make itchallenging for Maggie to engage the rest of the students. Maggie couldencourage the student to speak with her after the class and go over any“suggestions” or “observations” she cares to make. It could be that thedisruptive student partly just wants to make her presence known. Giving heranother way of doing this might help.

Iftalking with the student doesn’t improve her behavior, then it might be timefor Maggie to decide she will not substitute for this particular class. Thatmight not be the preferred result, but there are times when walking away is thebest option.

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of The Simple Art of Business Etiquette: How to Rise to the Top by Playing Nice, is a senior lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at Harvard's Kennedy School. He is also the administrator of www.jeffreyseglin.com, a blog focused on ethical issues. 

Do you have ethical questions that you need to have answered? Send them to jeffreyseglin@gmail.com. 

Follow him on Twitter @jseglin

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