The Ethicist, As It Should Be
One of my favorite columns in the New York Times Magazine is "The Ethicist," by Randy Cohen. I don't know who Randy Cohen is and I've never really understood who made him Mr. Ethics—well, obviously, the Times did—but
why anyone made him Mr. Ethics is what I really mean.
Anyway, I love "The Ethicist" because it gets my blood boiling. Every week I read it and think what a complete drag life would be if everyone acted the way that Randy Cohen suggests. (Like Canada.) Sometimes he's just wrong. Other times he's probably right, but there's something so goody-goody about his advice—maybe it's the schoolmarm-ish way he delivers it—that you want to go out and do the exact opposite of what Cohen recommends.
With that in mind, herewith the first in a series: Providing alternative answers to the questions people write to the Ethicist. Because, after all, it's not like the Times has a monopoly on ethics.
Today Steven Tanzer from Bayside, New York, writes about his son, who wrote an essay for his school's essay contest, which had a $750 prize. "After the deadline, the school announced that because only one student had applied for the scholarship, it was extending the deadline." The guy's son protested, as one might. Tanzner asks: "Was it ethical to extend the deadline?"
Cohen's answer: Your son "doesn't have much of a case." He bases this conclusion on the premise that the school was awarding the prize to the "best" essay, which implies more than one—"good, better, best," Cohen says. So the school was right.
Wrong!
The student fulfilled the stated terms of the contest. His essay, relative to the other entries, was not only the best; it was good compared to all the others, and it was better than all the others. It's not his fault that the other kids were too busy checking out Internet porn to bother scratching a few hundred words on a sheet of notebook paper.
In denying him the money, the school is changing the terms of a contract after the fact. That's like scheduling an exam for Wednesday and then giving it on Tuesday.
If the school doesn't pay up pronto, the kid should sue, making the point that even school administrators ought to keep their word—a valuable lesson for school administrators. The suit would attract lots of national publicity, and the kid would one day become a great defender of the rights of the oppressed.
Now, isn't that a better outcome than Cohen's, in which the school's sleazy behavior goes unpunished and a little boy learns that you'll never make any money writing?
