Right Thing, Right Now

The Greeks had a word, pleonexia—self-serving—which they said was the worst kind of life. We might say that justice, virtue—being good and not just great—is the antithesis of this.

“Lt. Col. Shunzo Kido turned aside from the prize to save his horse. He heard the low voice of mercy, not the loud acclaim of glory.”

But Rickover was also just a regular human being, someone with a temper, someone with colleagues and subordinates, a spouse, a son, parents, neighbors, bills to pay, traffic to navigate. What guided him, what he spoke about repeatedly in speeches and briefings, was the importance of this idea of a sense of right and wrong, a sense of duty and honor

That’s one of the ways you get allies—by looking like someone they can do business with. You could argue that this is unfair, that appearances shouldn’t matter, that people should be able to dress and behave however they want, that the only thing that should matter is a person’s character and the righteousness of their cause. And guess what? In arg

Pragmatism without virtue is dangerous and hollow. Virtue without pragmatism is ineffectual and impotent.

Malachi says that this is unacceptable; it goes against God’s commandments…. The weakest in society must not be wronged. We must focus our attention on them.”

It’s a powerful thing, isn’t it? When someone does their duty? When they take their job seriously—even in the face of private pressure or public opprobrium.

To the person you’re saving, to the person whose burden you are lessening? There is nothing “small” about it. When the Talmud says that he who saves one person saves the world, maybe that’s partly what they meant—because you certainly save that person’s whole world.

If your profession doesn’t have a code of ethics? Make one. To not have one is a recipe for moral dilemmas, for slip-sliding, if only unintentionally, into gray areas. How could you possibly do right if you don’t know what right is?