Jeffrey L. Seglin's Blog, page 69

Early morning movie boycotts

More than a week before it opened, the film "Zero Dark Thirty" began winning awards. Both the Boston Society of Film Critics and the New York Film Critics Online tapped it as the best picture of 2012, and each also chose Kathryn Bigelow as best director for the film.
But the film about the hunt for Osama bin Laden is also being pilloried (by many who have and many who haven't seen it yet) for possibly justifying torture as a legitimate method of interrogation. There's some dissension about whether the events depicted at the beginning of the movie -- an interrogation in 2003 that ultimately led to Osama's capture and killing -- ever happened. U.S. Secretary of Defense and former CIA Director Leon Panetta (played by James Gandolfini in the movie) has said torture techniques did not help find bin Laden. Others disagree.
With all the buzz, the pre-wide-release awards, and the director's reputation (she won the 2009 Academy Award for directing "The Hurt Locker"), it's likely that "Zero Dark Thirty" will find a strong audience.
But should it? That's the question posed by a reader in Florida who has his doubts about the movie.
"I want to see 'Zero Dark Thirty,'" he writes, "but I'm troubled by the idea of funding (at $12) certain dubious moral enterprises such as this one."
He's concerned that the movie normalizes torture. "If I know, in advance, that a movie 'based on a true story' hangs its plot on an unverified claim that would serve to convince many viewers that an absolutely immoral act of torture had led to the capture of the world's leading terrorist, should I support that movie financially by buying a ticket to see it? Or, should I boycott the movie?"
He knows that not forking over his $12 won't hurt Bigelow, but wonders if boycotting the movie will "marginalize her or the message in some small way." If others independently are doing the same, he figures, the film's message is "reduced to close enough to nothingness."
"I think I'm way too into the idea that my tiny symbolic acts matter," he says. "Or do they? Why aren't all of us with a conscience boycotting the movie?"
My reader has every right to boycott the movie because of what he believes is depicted in it. While I believe he might be able to make a stronger case if he actually sees the film to know that what he thinks he is boycotting actually exists in the movie, it's a perfectly ethical stance to have a strong conviction about the type of movie "Zero Dark Thirty" purports to be without seeing it. I, for one, saw nothing wrong with refusing to buy a copy of a memoir written by a fabricating reporter fired by The New York Times without ever having read a page of it. In fact, I try to avoid most memoirs or novels written by confirmed plagiarists and fabricators. 
The right thing is for my reader to act on his conscience and decide whether to go to see "Zero Dark Thirty" based on his principles. He should draw the line, however, at deciding what's best for others. Wondering why they don't join in his silent boycott is fair game. But assuming they should just because he does rids them of the ability to form their own convictions and then act on them. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

When doctors don't listen, patients suffer

About seven weeks ago, a relative had an MRI. She had been having some trouble hearing and, after an examination, her otolaryngologist ordered the MRI to rule out any growth that might be causing the loss. The family member waited for a report from her doctor.
A week passed. No report. Three weeks passed. Still no report. Finally, after four weeks, she called the otolaryngologist's office to ask if he planned to notify her about the results of the MRI.
She was reminded how busy the otolaryngologist was and that he would, of course, issue a report in due time. "I'm sure if there was anything wrong he would have contacted you right away," the otolaryngologist's assistant told my family member.
She still hasn't heard.
Then there's the reader in Lake Forest, Calif., who wrote to tell me that she had been called by her oncologist's office because they were curious why they received a report about a pelvic ultrasound. She told the oncologist's assistant that the oncologist had ordered the ultrasound to track ovarian cysts.
The assistant called back the same day to tell the reader she'd better come in. She pressed asking the assistant if there were any concerns, and was told she'd "better come in."
My reader drove 12 miles to her oncologist's office, learned that he was running late, waited patiently, and was finally told to disrobe so a physician's assistant (PA) could see her.
The PA came in with the ultrasound report and told my reader that her cysts are smaller than they had been and "everything looks fine."
"I asked her if this information couldn't have been imparted via telephone," my reader writes. "She agrees it could have. Now Medicare will be billed for what is essentially an unnecessary visit. I don't think this is fair."
She's right. It's not fair. It's both an unnecessary expense and both an inconvenience and was an unnecessary cause for alarm for my reader.
Both the failure to report on my family member's MRI and the failure to simply tell my reader by phone or through the mail that the results of her ultrasound were not of concern represent failures that have nothing to do with the shortcomings of Medicare or pending provisions of the Affordable Care Act in the U.S. Each represents a failure in treating patients efficiently and with respect.
In my reader's case, alarming her by telling her she'd "better come in" suggests the oncologist hadn't bothered to look at the report he had forgotten he ordered. In my family member's case, telling her that "I'm sure if there was anything wrong he would have contacted you right away" is simply a cover for the otolaryngologist who couldn't bother to keep up with his reports.
Each patient might have pressed further on the phone until an assistant took the time to find out the actual results of the respective test so they could give an informed response. But patients should not have to resort to badgering medical professionals to do their jobs. We all know doctors are busy. But the right thing is for them to do their jobs or empower their assistants to do their jobs and treat patients with the respect they deserve whether the news is good or bad. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

How much truth to tell when referencing a rotten colleague?

Several jobs ago, a senior colleague and I were discussing another colleague whose performance was less than par. The fellow in question was making life fairly miserable for those around him, failing to show up for meetings, blasting angry emails, not acknowledging people who didn't support him, and generally acting churlishly.
My colleague believed this person needed to find a different job, preferably someplace far away. I didn't disagree with his sentiment, but I asked: "Who's going to give him a good reference?"
"I would if it meant getting him out of here," my colleague responded.
It wasn't that my colleague thought he could focus on the positive aspects of this fellow's performance since he didn't believe there were any. It was that he felt that getting him to go someplace else outweighed the importance of being totally truthful about this guy's merits.
I was reminded of my exchange recently when a reader wrote me about finding himself in a similar situation. After dealing with an employee "who stirred up a lot of discontent in the office by his sometimes-abrasive personality," the fellow had the good sense to look for another job.
My reader came back from lunch one day to find that he had a voicemail from a prospective employer who had called to ask some questions about his abrasive colleague.
"I am an honest and (I think) a diplomatic man," my reader wrote. So he struggled with what he would say. Then he remembered that his boss could "sell the guy" a lot better than he could, so he turned the message over to his boss. The boss said what he said, and the abrasive employee got the job. "Whew!" my reader writes. "What a relief!"
But, he asks, whose behavior was more reprehensible - his or his boss's?
My reader didn't lie about his colleague. It's not clear whether his boss did, either. If the boss did lie in response to what he was asked, that would be wrong.
In cases like these, the responsibility for gathering information about an employee falls squarely on the shoulders of the prospective employer seeking the reference. Granted, there are times when the current employer should be forthcoming regardless of the questions asked. If, for example, there's concern about employee or customer safety based on past incidents, the right thing is to tell the prospective employer the facts concerning those incidents.
The right thing in most cases, however, is to respond to the questions asked by a prospective employer. There's no value in blurting out that you simply don't like the guy. If asked if the guy is a good report writer and he's not, it's fair to say that on that job it was not his strength. If asked about whether he showed up on time to meetings, it's fair to say that he did not always do so if that is factually correct.
Regardless of how much you dislike a colleague and would like him to be working some place far, far away, the right thing is never to lie about him or his performance. You needn't disclose more than asked, but the truth about what you are asked will set you, and ideally him, free. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

What's your price tag on doing what's right?

Do small acts matter?
Several weeks ago, I wrote a column about how my youngest grandson was taken aback that I would take the time to return to a store after the cashier had given me a quarter in change rather than the nickel I was owed. We talked about why it's important to do what's right even when the stakes seem small.
I was surprised at how many responses I received to the column. Most told me about similar incidents.
A.O., a reader from Mass. who runs a small used auto parts business wrote about a gentleman who had come in and purchased a cheap used tire. The fellow paid cash and A.O. gave him change. After he got to his car, the customer turned around and walked back. He returned a $100 bill that A.O. had given him instead of a $10 bill. "He could have had a free $90," writes A.O. Because he had bought a cheap used tire, he was far from wealthy. "There are honest people in the world and they get less credit than deserved. One feels good about the world after something like that."
"I am proud to say that my son found $200 at our local grocery," writes S.C., of Greenfield, Oh. "He could have really used it for bills, but he turned it in. It wasn't too long before the lady who lost it came back looking for it. She was in worse shape financially than my son. He was a hero!"
The day before she read my column, J.J. of Columbus, Ohio, had had a discussion with her college professor about an extra point he mistakenly gave her on a quiz. "He looked at me like I was crazy and said, 'Why are you telling me this?'" she writes. J.J. told him that she didn't earn the point and she wanted her grade to reflect what she deserved. He responded that since it was his mistake he couldn't understand why she was reporting it. She explained that it was like receiving too much change from a cashier and not returning it. "So it is sort of like a karma thing," he said, seeming to finally understand the reason for her actions.
But one reader's response to my column about returning the money stood out. "I've heard of unimportant controversies but this one takes the cake," writes C.S. of Lancaster, S.C. "Good for him," he wrote about reporting the mistake, but he hardly thinks it matters given the amount of money involved. "No wonder this country is so mixed up if people worry over unimportant things like this."
My take in that column was that it was precisely because people like A.O., S.C., J.J., and countless others worry about things like this that keeps folks from being even more "mixed up." If character is, as psychiatrist/writer Robert Coles writes in The Call of Stories: Teaching and the Moral Imagination (Houghton Mifflin, 1989), "how you behave when no one is looking," then the actions of people who do the right thing even when the stakes are small says something about their character and how they might act when the stakes are larger.
But I want to know from you. How important is it to you to do the right thing regardless of the stakes involved? Like C.S., do you have a cutoff point? Is 20 cents too little to waste your time setting things right? $20? $200? Or does doing the right thing have no price tag? 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

In real life as in fictional life, one value can trump another

A recent episode of the CBS television series Blue Bloods raised the question of how far you would go to help a friend and colleague when you know rules must be broken to help him.
The show revolves around a family of New York City cops. Granddad is a former police commissioner. Dad is the current commissioner. One son died on the job. Two sons are currently on the job. A daughter is an assistant district attorney.
Dad, played by Tom Selleck, is a by-the-book sort of commissioner. It's clear from the storyline that he's made some delicate choices as he worked his way up the ranks, but he's a rules-based guy. His father, on the other hand, is what Selleck's character refers to as "old school." Sometimes the rules applied and sometimes he and his minions took matters into their own hands to get things done.
But Selleck's character occasionally finds himself in a pickle. Such was the case in a recent episode when Selleck's DCPI (deputy commissioner of public information), a hefty fellow in his early 50s, turns in his letter of resignation. It turns out that when he was separated from his wife, the DCPI spent a "lost weekend" in Atlantic City where a woman in her 30s came on to him in a rendezvous that ended with a hotel room tryst. After the DCPI gets home, he receives a letter from the woman's lawyer saying she will sue him for sexual assault unless he pays her $50,000. Viewers are assured no assault was involved, but that the DCPI doesn't have the cash to pay even if he was so inclined. Rather than bring negative attention to the NYPD, he decides to resign.
Selleck's character is torn. He wants to honor his DCPI's wishes, but hates to lose such an upstanding, loyal colleague whom he thinks is being treated unfairly.
So the question becomes: Does the police commissioner accept the resignation or does he find a way to make the DCPI's problem go away? Ultimately, he confides in his father and asks him to lean on his buddies to make contact with the blackmailer, using whatever old-school ways they must, to resolve the matter. The commissioner doesn't want to know the details, just wants it done. "Are you sure?" his father asks him, knowing his son's proclivity for playing by the book. He is and so the deed is done. By the next morning, the blackmailer's lawyer contacts the DCPI and the matter disappears.
"What would you have done?" my wife asks me, recognizing that I am neither a fictional police commissioner nor Tom Selleck. The truth is that I don't know. But the choice the commissioner made seemed true to his character. He valued helping the DCPI to retain his job and escape the blackmail more than he valued sticking to his code of always going by the book.
For the commissioner placing that one value over the other was the right thing to do. But he must rest with the fact that he has gone from being a black-and-white kind of guy to one who now operates in shades of gray like his father had.
Ultimately, each of us may find ourselves facing such decisions where adhering to one value results in violating another. In such stark moments, the question in real life becomes whether or not we are prepared to make such decisions as well as how we live with them afterward. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

How Florida helps us think about what's right

Earlier this month, we had a presidential election in the U.S. Before midnight, the Republican candidate, Mitt Romney, had conceded to the Democratic candidate, Barack Obama. Because the U.S. uses the Electoral College to decide upon a victor rather than the raw vote tally, it was clear to each candidate that there was no way for Romney to have won, since Obama had surpassed the 270 of 538 electoral votes needed to be elected president.
By the end of Election Day, the electoral votes stood at 303 for Obama and 206 for Romney. And that's where they stood on Wednesday. And Thursday. And Friday. Because Florida was having some challenges in completing the count of its votes, it remained unclear which candidate would take its 29 electoral votes.
Ultimately, on Saturday, all the votes were in and Obama won Florida by 0.9 percent. In Florida, an automatic recount would have been triggered if the vote was closer than 0.5 percent. In such a case, Romney's campaign could have waived its legal right to a recount.
While Romney had already conceded the overall election, if a recount in Florida had been triggered, he would have had no legal obligation to waive his right to a recount. If it turned out in the recount that Florida actually went for Romney, the electoral votes would be a bit closer, at 303 to 235, than if the vote went for Obama. Then the election would end up 332 to 206. Either way, Romney loses -- but in one scenario he would lose by a lesser margin.
So, if Romney had a choice of a recount or waiving his right to a recount, what would have been the right thing to do? Just because we have the legal right to do something, is it always right to avail ourselves of that right?
I've written in this column before about the fact that there are ethical theories that are rules-based and then there are the ones that are utilitarian that argue for making choices based on the greatest good for the greatest number of people. Given the values of fiscal responsibility put forth by each candidate during the election, opting for the greater good in such a recount scenario is the way to go. Some estimates placed the cost of a voter recount in the state at more than $1 million. Of course, some estimates place the cost of the 2012 presidential campaign at roughly $2.6 billion, so just how fiscally responsible the candidates have been can be questioned.
The right thing would have been for Romney -- or Obama for that matter if by some happenstance he found himself falling short but within one-half percent range once all the votes were counted-- to write to Florida's election commission and waive the automatic recount. Not only would it reflect a concern over the cost of such a recount, it would also send a strong message about the character and the grace of either candidate.
There would be little to gain by scoring more points, when the bigger outcome is already clear. In Obama's case, there would have been no value in trying to run up the score simply because he could. And in Romney's, nothing would have been gained by cutting a lead that still results in a loss. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Union and nonunion help welcomed in hurricane's aftermath

As I was cleaning up leaves and debris in my yard in Massachusetts this past weekend, I mentioned to one my neighbors who had stopped by that one of the areas hard hit by Hurricane Sandy was SeasideHeights, a place on the New Jersey Shore that my family, high school friends and I used to frequent during the summers.
"Wasn't that where they turned away those utility linemen from Alabama who'd driven up to help get the power back on because they weren't union members?" he asked.
I didn't know and I hadn't heard about the incident. If it happened as he described, I was all set to write about how wrong it was, that the right thing when facing a crisis such as this was to forget about union affiliation and embrace the help offered.
It turns out, however, that the report aired by a localnews program in Alabama wasn't correct.
The six-man crew from Decatur, Ala., did travel to Seaside Heights, but communication "with Seaside Heights was poor due to lack of cellphone service in the area," a statement later issued by Decatur Utilities read. "As we waited for clarification, we became aware that Seaside Heights had received the assistance they needed from other sources. To be clear, at no time were our crews 'turned away' from the utility in Seaside Heights."
John Reitmeyer, a reporter for The Record in Bergen County, N.J., wrote that crews from a dozen other states and Canada traveled to New Jersey to assist utility crews. "New Jersey utility companies are taking all the help they can get from out-of-state crews-- including both union and nonunion -- as they scramble to turn power back on for those who've been in the dark for days now," he wrote.
Reitmeyer ended his report with a quote from Gov. Chris Christie that indicated he would block any effort to restrict out-of-state help. "I wouldn't allow it," he said. "I would invoke my powers of the Disaster Control Act."
The local Alabama TV station later posted the video of a press conference with Decatur Utilities General Manager trying to clarify what had happened.
At a time of crisis, it's good that people want to help.
In this case, the linemen from Decatur did the right thing by offering assistance. Those who actually made it to the disaster site to help did the right thing, as well. And Gov. Christie did right by making clear that the issue was never about union vs. nonunion employees. The biggest wrong was to try to sensationalize an issue that, by virtue of the fact that union and nonunion employees were indeed working side by side, did not exist. Focusing on getting help where it was needed was the right thing to do and by all accounts there were many who did just that.
There was clearly confusion in Hurricane Sandy's aftermath, not the least of which was that TV station's early report that fueled false rumors about unions protecting their turf. Sadly, that's all that sticks in my neighbor's head and likely the heads of others who heard the initial report but not the subsequent corrections. At least my neighbor now knows the fuller story. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Many honest returns

The neighborhood in which my wife and I live has curbside recycling. Every Friday morning, recyclables are picked up.
We set aside any bottles or cans that can get a nickel back for each return because every several weeks our two grandsons help pile them into the car and then take them to a store that has a recycling machine that eats the bottles and cans and issues a receipt that can be turned in for cash at the store's register.
Our practice is to let our grandsons split whatever money the haul yields. If the amount adds up to anything with an extra nickel, rather than attempt to split it into 2 1/2 cents each, I keep the nickel. The cashiers have gotten used to our request that they split the amount evenly between the boys and give me the extra nickel if there happens to be one.
On our most recent trip, a couple of large family gatherings had preceded the returns, so the amount added up to a healthy $12.15. Each boy happily received $6.05, and the cashier handed me the extra coin. The boys headed out to the car with me behind them.
As soon as I left the store, however, I looked at the coin and noticed that the cashier had mistakenly given me a quarter rather than a nickel. The boys had already settled into the car, but I shouted out to them that I needed to go back inside for a second.
The cashier who was busy with another customer saw me walk back in and asked if everything was OK. I told her about the mistake and we made an exchange for the right coinage.
As I slid into the driver's seat, my youngest grandson, Lucas, asked from the backseat, "What were you doing, Papa?" I told him that the cashier had given me a quarter instead of the nickel I was owed and that I had gone in to return it.
"Why did you do that?" he asked.
"Because it wasn't my money," I responded.
We talked some more and I explained again that the money wasn't mine and it didn't matter to me if it was 20 cents or $20. The owner of the store shouldn't be shortchanged any more than I would be. Plus, when the cashier cashed out at the end of the day, she would be expected to have her cash drawer balance. The right thing in such situations when someone makes a mistake and gives you more than you're due is to make things right.
I expected some great lesson would immediately resonate with Lucas, who is 11, that by setting an example he would forever know to try to do what's right, in big matters as well as small. But, as we were finishing up talking, he said, "Only you would have taken the time to do that."
I'm hopeful that's not right and that others would have done the same. But I can rest assured that at least one other person besides me knows why it's important to do what's right even when the stakes seem small. 
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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Exchanging words with friends

Last December, the actor Alec Baldwin was asked to leave an American Airlines flight boarding at Los Angeles International Airport because of his desire to continue to play the game Words with Friends on his smartphone after the aircraft's doors had closed. Undoubtedly the popularity of the game, similar to the longtime family-favorite board game Scrabble, didn't suffer as a result of the dustup at LAX.

Apparently, some users find Words With Friends captivating enough to have several games going with various opponents at once. Anyone who has played the game knows that heated discussions over which words are allowed and which are not commonly erupt. Unlike the analog game of Scrabble where a player can challenge an opponent's word, on Words With Friends, the program itself decides whether a word is acceptable.

As the game has grown in popularity, so too have the sites that users can consult to see what the seven random letter tiles they end up with each round can possibly spell. Plug in your seven letters plus one open letter on the board and all possibilities are quickly revealed to a user - even though many of the words can be those for which the user hasn't a clue about their meaning. These sites do link to a definition of even the most obscure words, but players are under no obligation to learn the meaning of whatever word they are supplied.

It's not uncommon after a particularly unusual word is played by someone not known for his use of unusual words ("feazing," anyone?), that an opponent will suggest that a help site was consulted. Or, more directly, will say, "You cheated, didn't you?" By "cheated," both parties typically will know that what's meant is the accusation that a help site was used.

A question then is whether it's wrong to consult such help sites when playing the game. Is it indeed cheating?

If no clear ground rules are set that forbid or encourage the use of such sites, then I find nothing wrong with using the sites. As long as the words fit and are accepted by the online game board, no violating of the established rules has occurred.

But as with many situations, a follow-up question might be if that's the best right solution to how to play the game fair and square where questions of possible cheating are removed from the table (or, in this case, screen) entirely. It's not.

The best right thing to do when engaging a new opponent in a game of Words With Friends is to establish an agreement that using help sites is perfectly OK or if using them is off limits for this particular game. Making the rules clear from the outset wherever possible not only can make for a more even playing field, it also can result in fewer misunderstandings and accusations. All in all, the transparency of rules makes the playing all that more pleasurable.

As for whether Alec Baldwin should have been bounced from the flight? Anyone not following the instructions of a flight attendant should know they run the risk of wrath. Regardless of whether the rules are enforced consistently, once the attendant makes it clear this is going to be one of the flights where you follow the rules or else, then the right thing is to follow the rules if you don't want to get kicked off the plane. 

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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.

Snapping up photos without paying is wrong

A husband and wife send their kids to a camp for three weeks each summer. They like the camp and their kids will choose to go there for at least 10 years.

In addition to the fee they pay to send their kids to this camp, the couple pays an additional $100 to be able to send and receive emails from their children. Since the camp is, as their mother reports, "a technology-free place of fun," the emails the parents send are printed out and given to the children. The children then hand write replies that are scanned by camp employees and emailed to the parents.

This is all a bit convoluted, since an old-fashioned postcard might do the trick and be cheaper. What really is bugging the parents, however, is that the camp also offers a picture-sharing service that allows them to see their kids in camping action. Parents sign a release and then a photographer regularly snaps pictures that are then posted to the camp's website. Parents can buy a 4 by 6 photo of their kid for $1.65 plus shipping and handling.

"I can get a picture printed from Walgreens for 19 cents," the mother wrote me. "This past week I realized that I could pull pictures off the website without purchasing them." Even though she says she is not really a tech-savvy person, she notes that the procedure is as easy as "copy and paste."

The mother has expressed her concern to the company providing the photographs. The latter would not negotiate the price. "Customer service is not a strength they have," she explains.

She's quick to acknowledge that the company should make a fair profit for the product it provides and charge accordingly. Copying photos from the site without paying anything is not an option for her, since she would consider that stealing. But she wonders whether it would be unethical to pull the pictures off the site and then also purchase enough so the photographer gets a fair profit -- "say, 50 cents per picture."

"Or is it just outright stealing?" she asks.

She is considering the action, but it just doesn't sit right with her, not passing her own "gut test."

I could quibble that it seems nuts for the camp not to embed the cost of a $1.65 photo or two and the email "service" into the general fee charged to attend the camp. I could also ponder why a photographer wouldn't protect the photos online so that they couldn't be copied and pasted without purchase. But the convoluted way the camp chooses to provide this service has no bearing on whether it's right to simply take the photos off the website without paying for them since they are deemed to be overpriced.

The mother's gut test serves her well and she's right to avoid taking the photos without paying for them. The right thing is to pay for the photos they take and continue to talk to the camp about changing this process. The alternative is simply to get enough parents to refuse to pay the $100 fee and to refrain from buying photos at the marked-up price until the camp recognizes that there's a better way to service the needs of the parents who send their kids to enjoy a technology-free three weeks every summer. 

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) 2012 JEFFREY L. SEGLIN. Distributed by Tribune MediaServices, Inc.