Jeffrey L. Seglin's Blog, page 64

Should college applicants write their own reference letters?

Just before 10:30 p.m., as the Red Sox were dominating the St. Louis Cardinals in the sixth inning of the sixth game of this year's World Series, I received an email on my phone from a former student. Having moved to New York years ago, apparently she was not all that interested in watching a Boston team win.
She had decided to go back to school and was applying to graduate programs to further pursue what she had studied as an undergraduate. She began by filling me in on the reasoning for her decision and then segued to request if I could write recommendations for her to the graduate schools to which she was applying.
Since she had been a strong student who had kept me abreast of what she had been doing in the years since graduating, I had no problem agreeing to her request.
But she continued with a sentence at the end of her email that threw me a bit: "Because I understand you might be very busy, I'd be happy to draft up a recommendation with some basics that you may then edit to whatever extent you see fit."
I wrote back that I'd be glad to write the recommendations but that I wouldn't be comfortable having someone write his or her own recommendation that I could simply edit.
That was fine she replied and thanked me.
I've written in the past about students who have others write or re-write their college application essays for them, a practice that I find to be dishonest in that it doesn't reflect the work of the applicant.
But here someone was offering to write a letter for me to use to recommend her. Out of curiosity, I emailed her again and asked if other recommenders had accepted her offer.
Yes, she wrote. "I actually offered because two other people have flat out asked me to write drafts for them to edit." She indicated that she now found herself in the position of having to figure out how to write a recommendation letter for herself that will ultimately be from someone else, a process that she acknowledged was going to be "a little uncomfortable."
It may be naive to believe that such a practice doesn't go on regularly, but does that make it an acceptable practice?
No. While no one at the receiving institution might be any wiser since only the applicant and recommender would know, it's not an honest representation of what it purports to be. Prospective recommenders should either write their own letters or simply decline the requests if they don't have the time or the desire to do so.
A couple of days after her request, my former student wrote to tell me that the applications for a couple of the schools had a little box that applicants had to check where you swear you had no part in editing or drafting the recommendation letter being submitted. "So I'm now facing a more serious ethical dilemma," she wrote.
The right thing seems clear. Only ask recommenders who are willing to write the actual letter that they will ultimately represent as their own work. If they're not inclined to do so, ask someone else. 

Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 

Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net .

 (c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

OMG, I can't believe I offended you

At the beginning of the summer, my wife and I took our grandsons and their friends to a weekly outdoor farmer's market and arts andcrafts fair in the South End of Boston, which hat runs from May through October. The kids loved the food trucks, the vintage goods store and the quirkiness of the crowd.
I chatted up the owner of a company called PeriodicallyInspired who was in her booth selling T-shirts, coffee mugs and other stuff that had various phrases imprinted on them drawing from letters on the periodic table. My wife bought me a black T-shirt with the letters O (for oxygen) and Mg (for magnesium) on it. Get it? OMG, the overused text shorthand for "Oh, my God" written in response to, well, something to which you'd typically respond "OMG." I thought the products and the T-shirt were clever.
It turns out, however, that I may be one of many who serve as a leading indicator that we are headed toward becoming a Godless nation.
In a recent column for The Boston Globe, Jennifer Graham, raised the issue of how we Americans have become cavalier about our use of God's name. Using OMG, she observed, is for some people "at least as vulgar as David Ortiz dropping the f-bomb at Fenway," something the Red Sox slugger did shortly after the bombings at the Boston Marathon finish line back in April. There are others, she observed, who find the word "jeez" offensive because it derives from "Jesus."
Graham adheres to what she describes as "the antiquated notion that a certain reverence and restraint is due the sacred."
I agree with Graham. It is good to be respectful of other's beliefs and not to tread on their notion of what is sacred to them.
If the intent of those using the OMG phrase was to be blasphemous or profane or to attack someone else's religion, that would be wrong. But it's a tough stance to take that OMG is any more of a misappropriation of God's name than those who invoke it as they enter into combat or a cross-country meet. Any use may offend someone.
But if I know that Graham or others are offended by something, is it wrong for me to continue doing that thing? Should I stop wearing my OMG T-shirt out of concern that I might run into Graham on the street? No more than it is wrong for me to continue wearing the leather shoes I know some friendly vegans I pass on the way to work find offensive.
If we truly want to avoid the possibility of offending anyone for everything we do, we should never leave the house. Even then, some might find that choice offensive.
The right thing is not to deliberately use a phrase or icon to persecute, silence or demean someone else. It's doubtful that OMG is any more offensive than "gadzooks" was in its day.
Without shame, I will continue to wear my OMG T-shirt and to chuckle every time I see the Ichthys fish, which began as an early Christian symbol, glued onto the back of my wife's car that has the words "N Chips" written within the body. No offense. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net .  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Readers: It's time to share

Last December, professional baseball player Shane Victorino signed a three-year, $39 million contract to play right field for the Boston Red Sox.
After the Red Sox defeated the Tampa Bay Rays in the American League Division series in early October, Victorino returned on the team's charter plane to Boston. But, according to Shira Springer, a sportswriter for The Boston Globe, Victorino left his wallet that contained his license, credit card and cash on the plane. Once the Red Sox departed in Boston, the charter plane continued on to Paris.
Victorino told Springer that it was clearly his own fault for leaving the wallet behind.
But fortunately, whoever found the wallet in Paris turned it in. The wallet was to be shipped back to Victorino, its rightful owner.
Springer reports that when Victorino, who would go on to hit a bases-loaded home run to help the Red Sox clinch the American League Championship Series against the Detroit Tigers, was asked if he was surprised that the wallet was turned in with all of its contents intact, he responded: "There's honest, trustworthy people in this world."
Victorino's response is heartening.
In an age when sports memorabilia can sell for sizeable figures, it might have been tempting for the person who found Victorino's wallet to turn it into cash, although it would be hard to imagine that such an act wouldn't raise suspicion that someone was trying to sell something that wasn't rightfully theirs. The wallet finder might also have decided to hold onto the wallet in hopes that it would make an attractive addition to, or start of, a sports memorabilia collection.
Instead, he or she did the right thing by turning in the ballplayer's wallet and seeing to it that it was returned.
Reading of Victorino's experience reminded me of the challenges each of us regularly face to do the right thing. Each of us made decisions about how to respond to a situation that in retrospect make us proud or a bit ashamed.
I regularly share such stories in my column, but now it's your turn to tell me your story. What defining moment in your life are you most proud of how you responded? Or, what response to an ethical choice have you made that you wish you could do over? If you've had an experience with someone like Victorino's wallet finder and returner, tell me that too.
Several years ago, when I asked readers to share their stories, I received dozens of moving stories about their personal experiences when faced with ethical choices. So I'm asking you to share your stories again. Provide as much detail about any struggle you might have faced in making your decision, but please limit your responses to no longer than 300 words. Include your name, city, state, and phone number and send me your story by Nov. 15 to rightthing@comcast.net.
I will try to use the most compelling of your stories in an upcoming column. I'm hopeful that Victorino is right about there being "honest, trustworthy people in this world." I'm hopeful that some of your stories will showcase just how true his observation is. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net .  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Take filled job postings down

Job hunting is tough.
Networking with friends and colleagues to see if someone knows someone who might know something about an open position in your field takes time. Writing strong cover letters to prospective employers about your desire to fill a job they've got open can itself turn into what seems like a full-time job.
According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, the unemployment rate hovers around 7.3 percent in the United States. In North Dakota, thanks to a boon in jobs in the energy sector, the unemployment rate is much lower at 3 percent. But if you find yourself looking in Nevada, the percent of unemployed is more than triple that amount at 9.5 percent. In Canada, Statistics Canada, puts the unemployment rate at 6.9 percent. Regardless of where you're looking for a job, however, competition for open positions can be stiff.
A reader from Massachusetts (where the unemployment rate is around 7.2 percent) writes that she received an email from someone starting out in her field. The emailer asked the reader if she "knew anything about a supposedly open position" that appeared on a company's website.
The reader had heard that the job at this small company had been filled weeks earlier. "Yet the posting for it lingers on the company website," she writes. "It's not unheard of for positions to stay posted long after they're filled."
The reader wants to know why companies leave filled job positions posted on their websites with no indication that the job is no longer open.
"Is it sheer laziness or bait and switch?" she asks. "If nothing else, it's a waste of nearly everyone's time. I think it's unethical."
Unless the employer posting the position offers an applicant a less attractive position after they apply for the posted job, it does not seem to be a traditional "bait and switch" tactic. But the reader does point out a practice that can be a frustration at best and deliberately misleading at worst.
Why shouldn't companies be held responsible for taking down posted job ads once the job has been filled? Or at the very least to give a date after which no applications will be accepted, as some prospective employers already do?
When I recently sold an old sofa through craigslist.com, there was a mechanism for me to use to indicate when the merchandise has been sold. When items go up for sale on eBay or other auction sites, the seller indicates an end date for the sale or a notation is made if the item is sold.
Shouldn't we expect to deliver the same thoughtfulness to people looking for jobs as we do to prospective buyers of used sofas and Pez dispensers?
My reader is correct. It is misleading to keep a job listing that has no deadline for applications posted on a website long after the position is filled.
The right thing is for businesses that post jobs to make it a point to either include a deadline for applications or to take down the job listing once the job is filled. Such responsibility would be the least they'd expect in a prospective employee. They should start by exhibiting it themselves. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to rightthing@comcast.net .  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Whose post is this anyway?

I'm not a fan of anonymous website postings, though it's a topic I've written about before. Recently, the issue of anonymous postings hit the news again, this time following action taken in late September by New York State Attorney General Eric Schneiderman.
Under a sting labeled "Operation Clean Turf," the Office of the Attorney General caught 19 companies soliciting fake reviews on websites, a practice known as "astroturfing." The OAG also noted that many sites post regular solicitations offering to pay people to write such fake reviews.
The companies were fined $350,000 for what amounted to false advertising and engaging in illegal and deceptive business practices.
In a press release, Attorney General Eric Schneiderman said: "This investigation into large-scale, intentional deceit across the Internet tells us that we should approach online reviews with caution." He also put businesses on alert that astroturfing was the "21st century's version of false advertising, and prosecutors have many tools at their disposal to put an end to it."
The Office of the Attorney General did the right thing by trying to put a stop to companies that deliberately try to mislead customers with fake reviews.
It's one thing if a website is set up for whistleblowers to help shine a light on wrongdoing, allowing them anonymity to shield them from retribution. It's quite another when posters use the cloak of anonymity to trash a person or business simply for sport.
In his book, Integrity (Basic Books, 1996), Stephen Carter writes about the three steps that are needed to act with integrity. The first is discerning the issue. The second is to act on what you discern. And the third is to state openly what you have done and why you have done it.
If you have something to write, then have the conviction to own your passions.
A former student recently published a book review that deemed one of the books reviewed to be less than stellar. Within a day, more than 200 anonymous posters took him to task with an assortment of names and attacks. The anonymous posters may have been right to challenge the review. The difference? He put his name on the review. Their bashing of everything from his character to his marriage remained anonymous. No integrity there.
What about positive anonymous posts? The same holds true. If posters want to praise, let them do so with their name attached.
It turns out that it's just as simple to show a lack of integrity by making positive posts as it does anonymous negative ones. In fact, such anonymous positive posts can result in legal action.
Though Schneiderman's actions target businesses who post fraudulently, that still leaves thousands of anonymous posters out there who post on their own. It's impossible for readers of these posts to know if the poster has some sort of stake in what he is writing for or against. The right thing here would be for readers to take anonymous posts with a grain of salt, for websites to reconsider their practice of allowing anonymous comments and reviews and for anyone who posts to have the integrity to attach their name to their words. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to  rightthing@comcast.net.  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

We got your cell phone right here

My cell phone died and I was overdue for a new one on my service contract.
A salesperson in my service provider's store in Cambridge, Mass., where I work, kindly told me that he saw the phone I was looking at in his store at Best Buy for $100 less than the service provider was asking.
When I got to the screen on Best Buy's website to see where I could pick up the phone, it read "unavailable." I tried other ZIP codes in Massachusetts and got the same result. I tried my sister's ZIP code in Minnesota. Same. Best friend in Burbank? Zip. No availability anywhere I tried.
I called Best Buy's customer service number. A pleasant-enough customer care representative also checked online and got the same disappointing results. He promised to notify "corporate" of the mistake so they could take the offering down.
It turns out, however, Best Buy wasn't out of the phone.
"We do have one phone in our Cambridge store," Jeff Shelman, a senior manager in Best Buy's corporate public relations office said. But Best Buy's policy, he said, is that if only one item is left in stock at the store, it doesn't show up on the company's website. "We want to guard against the customer getting to the store and being disappointed."
Had I typed in the ZIP code for New York City, Shelman said, I would have found that a store just north of Houston Street had two phones in stock.
In an effort to potentially avoid disappointing a customer, Best Buy ended up not only disappointing a customer, but also losing a sale.
If Best Buy truly wanted to act in the best interest of its customers, it would indicate somewhere that even if its website shows no products in stock the customer might want to also check the store in person. Certainly Best Buy should empower its customer care reps to be able to check inventory and make this reasonable suggestion.
"When a product is nearing the end of its life," Shelman said explaining the attractive sales price, "we try to eliminate inventory. There's not an infinite number of these products."
In fact, he said, the product I wanted had been put on sale 57 days before I tried to order it. Had I tried to buy it then, I wouldn't likely have faced the same shortages. I pointed out that I didn't need a phone back then.
Shelman said that a new ship-from-store pilot program that Best Buy is rolling out in 50 of its 1,000 big box stores might prevent such encounters as mine in the future. Under the program, I would have been alerted that the store in New York City had phones in stock and one could be shipped to me from there. In other words, I wouldn't have had to guess what ZIP code to plug in. Presumably, this would also better equip the customer care people to better assist customers.
The program seems a good start. Better still would be to let customers know when you have a policy designed to try to quell their potential disappointment so they can decide for themselves how to act. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to  rightthing@comcast.net.  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Who buys the books when?

Every summer for the past several years, my wife and I attend a public library book sale that occurs right around the July Fourth weekend in Massachusetts. The goal is to raise as much money for the public library as possible.
The sale is massive and lasts for several days. From the minute the sales tents open, the general public and used book dealers pour over the offerings. When the tables get low, more boxes are opened and more books displayed.
While the resellers may pile up more volumes than they plan to take and sometimes slow down perusing time by using smartphones or tablets to check a book's resale price, there's a general collegiality among the customers, who are all vying for the same great find.
On the final day of the sale, when pickings are slimmer, books go for $1 per bag.
A while back a reader from another community told me of her experience with her own community's public library's annual book sale and how it "may not be what it seems, or what it used to be."
Apparently, the library has a contract with an online book dealer who "cherry picks all the good stuff" to buy, she writes. Once the online book dealer has its way, the library then permits volunteers working on the sale to choose from what's left.
Only then do the books go on sale to "friends of the library," who pay a special annual fee first, and then the general public later. My reader says she falls in the latter category "because I'm cheap."
The reader indicated that longtime patrons of the sale who don't fall into special privileged categories have begun to complain and are frustrated by the increasingly slim pickings.
"Is she right, that it's a bit of a rip-off?"
It sounds to me like the makings of a lousy book sale for the general public. I know that on the last day of the community book sale I attend, you might be able to buy a bag of books for a buck, but everything's been really picked over during the prior several days of the sale. My reader's sale sounds like the general public is facing final day pickings right from the get go.
Nevertheless, if the reader's library makes it clear how it is operating and who gets first picks and when, then a buyer has the opportunity to decide whether to bother with the sale. While the community spirit of the book sale may be dampened if the general public knows it's getting the dregs of offerings, if the library determines it can raise the most funds by creating tiers of buyers, then that's a fair decision.
The right thing is to make the rules of the book sale as transparent as possible to all comers.
Granted, my reader's sale doesn't sound like one I'd expect much from if I were a member of the general buying public. The organizers would be wise to determine if the long-term effect of their policy is to drive away so many customers that their fundraising strategy doesn't pay off. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to  rightthing@comcast.net.  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Telling clients the truth even if it drives a wedge

I am not a divorce lawyer, financial adviser or couples counselor, but a reader who is an investment adviser sought my counsel about an issue that likely could use the wisdom of someone engaged in all three professions.
The reader sought advice about "pre-divorce"counseling, an interesting term since most married couples would likely refer to themselves as "married" rather than "pre-divorced." Since a couple's assets are split in a divorce under specific rules, the reader wanted to know if he should discuss divorce rules when advising a client about an inheritance.
As he explains it, inherited assets remain "separate property," if the inheriting client keeps the assets in her own name. So if Ms. Smith receives an inheritance and puts it into the "Ms. Smith living trust," she keeps it all in the case of divorce. If she puts the money into the Ms. and Mr. Smith joint checking account, it has now been co-mingled. If the couple should divorce, the funds are subject to a 50/50 split because of the co-mingling.
"If I bring the subject up, it can drive a wedge into an otherwise happy marriage," my reader writes. ("Gee dear, you don't think we'll have a future together?") His concern is that if he doesn't bring it up and the client co-mingles the assets and loses half of her inheritance in a divorce, then the losing spouse will sue him. On the other hand, if he advises the inheritor to create a separate trust and the couple divorces, then that losing spouse sues him.
"Or," he writes," I drive that wedge into a happy marriage and divorce ensues. I get sued."
Either way, he figures, "I've created a problem." He doesn't care what they do, only that he protect himself from liability for "home wrecking."
"Should I bring it up at all?" he asks.
I can't tell my reader how to protect himself from such a liability any more than I can tell him how to protect himself should he give his clients investment advice that turns sour.
It's not up to the financial adviser to make the decision about what to do with a couple's inherited money. But it does seem to be his responsibility to lay out the couple's options and to be explicit about the positives and negatives of various options. Presumably, such advice is what the couple is going to the financial adviser for in the first place.
Couples may not want to discuss the possibility of death either, but that doesn't let estate lawyers off the hook from explaining how to best protect their assets should they die. To not do so would simply be irresponsible. Similarly, when a couple goes to a financial adviser for financial advice, he should give them the best advice he can give them and lay out all the options from which they can choose.
Because his clients are going to him for financial advice, then the right thing for the reader to do is to give them the best advice he can give them, even if that means bringing up issues that might be uncomfortable. If that drives a wedge in the relationship, then it's their responsibility to decide how to navigate that wedge. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 

Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 

Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to  rightthing@comcast.net.  

(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

How to handle a bad reference

The late Pierre Mornell, a renowned psychiatrist and author, was an expert in hiring practices. A particular piece of his wisdom sticks with me and has affected how quickly I respond to emails or calls seeking employment references for former colleagues or students.
Pierre told me that if you're calling a reference you can get a good sense of how highly the person thought of a prospective employee by how quickly he returns your call. If it takes days to get a response, Pierre suggested this might be an indication that you weren't that high on the person and his talents. If you responded within a few hours, it more than likely suggested that you thought enough of the person to want to assist him in getting the new position.
Granted, circumstances sometimes prevented a reference from responding as quickly as they would like to support Mornell's principle. But regardless of where I am when I get a reference call about someone whose work I found strong, I try my best to respond quickly.
Pierre's wisdom about hiring and reference practiceswould have come in handy for a recent conundrum that came my way.
Several employees at a business have found a recently promoted colleague to be less than exemplary in his new position. His treatment of those reporting to him has been unpleasant and they've found his business practices to be troubling. Still, the elevated employee seemed to have the ear of those above him who didn't seem to be moving fast enough to address the rank-and-file employees' concerns.
As their complaints grew louder and more consistent, however, it appeared that the questionable employee recognized that his long-term viability at the business might be limited. Word got out that he was looking around for new positions elsewhere. The employees reporting to him figured he was looking for a new job while he was still in a position of authority.
The question arose of what these employees would do if by chance they were asked by a prospective employer what it was like to work with this boss. If word was out that their boss was difficult to work with, would they confirm this even if it meant that such confirmation might result in his inability to land a job elsewhere?
One employee suggested that they should smarten up and heap praise upon the fellow if that meant the chances of having him become someone else's employee were increased.
What would Pierre have advised?
The right thing is not to exaggerate about the employee's perceived negative attributes, regardless of your personal feelings. But neither should you concoct a fiction about his positive traits simply to try to get rid of him. Instead, either defer to someone else in your business who might be better able to respond to questions about him or just confirm that you worked with him.
Sure, doing so might send a message that by not saying anything you don't have anything good to say. But that's a better approach than being untruthful about the person. Lying calls your integrity into question, not his. If you wait a few days before responding to any request for a reference, however, that might speak volumes. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 

Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to  rightthing@comcast.net.  (c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.

Deciding whether to do your best work

A reader who is an investment adviser from California writes that over the years he's discovered that a particular client sometimes executes the investment ideas he gives to him through others -- a "brother, friend, or whatever."
The reader recognizes that because of the client's personal relationship with the other adviser that this situation is not likely to change. But, he writes, that he is far more skilled than any of his clients' friends or brothers.
"So I'm being used for my ideas and given a few crumbs to keep me happy," he writes.
While the clients don't demand a lot of time, he writes that he can see that he is having an "outsized effect" on their financial situations because of the good ideas he presents them that they then execute through others.
"Considering that these clients will continue to give me small business and give the big stuff to others, should I continue to give them my best ideas?" he asks.
The reader writes that he always refers his clients to lawyers for trusts, wills, and other legal documents. "I do it as a free service," he writes. "Failure to set these things up on a timely basis leads to a great deal of unhappiness later for clients or their families."
Still, he wonders if he should tell his clients about these legal tools and send them to a lawyer if he's not getting all, or the bulk of, their investment business.
He wants to know the right thing to do about "this conundrum" he is facing.
"Financial advising isn't a charitable service in these cases," he writes, "so do I have a moral or ethical obligation to do my best work for a client who then places the business that these ideas generate with others?"
The reader asks quite a few questions. Other financial advisers or planners are fee-based so they charge by the hour or the plan. But because the reader's compensation is based on a percentage of money invested or managed, he only makes money if a client actually invests through him. The reader has no obligation to do business or spend his time giving advice to a non-client if he doesn't want to.
But once he decides to do business with a client, then the right thing is indeed to do the best work he can for those clients. It may infuriate him that these clients only invest a small percentage of their investment portfolio through him, but the reader would be on firmer ground severing business ties with a client rather than doing less than his best work.
Part of doing his best work includes making intelligent referrals to other professionals, such as lawyers, who can provide their own best work to the client. Holding back on such referrals because of a perceived slight that not enough of a client's business is coming your way is at best unprofessional.
The right thing is to either take on a client and do your best work, regardless of the size of his portfolio, or to simply pass on doing business with the client, if his portfolio is not large enough to meet the criteria you set. 
Jeffrey L. Seglin, author of  The Right Thing: Conscience, Profit and Personal Responsibility in Today's Business and The Good, the Bad, and Your Business: Choosing Right When Ethical Dilemmas Pull You Apart, is a lecturer in public policy and director of the communications program at  Harvard's Kennedy School . 
Follow him on Twitter: @jseglin 
Do you have ethical questions that you need answered? Send them to  rightthing@comcast.net.  
(c) 2013 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by TRIBUNECONTENT AGENCY, LLC.