Ethical Grandstanding - Mine vs Others

I still remember the day. I was 10 years old. I found myself in front of a court at my home. My father was the prosecutor and the judge, my mother my defence counsel, and my younger sister and brother the witnesses.

My dad had noticed that his shirt pocket was lighter by a few 50 paisa coins for the last few days. The trial ended with my confession that these coins had indeed found their way into my pocket. My mother’s defence was that I was using those to buy buns, butter and jam for myself and my hungry siblings. She argued that it was an act committed by a tired and hungry kid to feed himself and his siblings. She argued that though this was stealing, it was a responsible act of managing the hunger of my siblings.

Now that I reflect on the episode, one thing is clear. Whether we are 10 years old or well into adulthood, every transgression of ours is explained by us or someone close. In my case, it was the innocence of a kid who did not know that taking money from his father’s pocket without his consent is stealing—even if it is for the greater common good. As adults, the blame is often put at the door of a sordid system that forces an individual’s hand.

The irony here is, when we cheat, it is an act of dharamsankat. When others do, we mount the ethical high horse.

In my 30 years of working, I have seen a few acts, which, when examined closely, will be cheating. We choose not to talk about them because they are the “inconvenient truths”. We dare not bring them up to our or the public conscience, for they disturb our ethical equilibrium.

I’d like to examine a few such transgressions and ask whether these acts indeed fall in the “grey zone of propriety”. (Notice my reluctance to use the word “cheating” here).

Think of the times when you’ve seen CEOs and senior functionaries of India Inc fill up corporate boxes at events like the Wimbledon, the football world cup, Formula 1 races or some marquee concerts. When I last looked up, the travel expenses for two people to Wimbledon, which includes air travel, five-star accommodation, match tickets and other hospitality, amounts roughly to Rs 10 lakh. The amount roughly doubles if it’s the football world cup in Brazil.

When I asked around to find out why such senior functionaries accept invitations like these, I’ve been told that if they don’t, it will be construed as “disrespectful” and will “affect business interests”. My question here is: Whose? Isn’t there a conflict of interest here? Why would a customer or a business associate spend so much on anybody if it did not further their own interests?

If that be the case, ought we not to apply the same yardsticks to a government official who accepts similar hospitality from a contractor? Why is this classified as “conflict of interest” and not the hospitality provided by “well-meaning business associates” in the private sector? Aren’t these choices we make and thereafter invent reasons, as my mother did to rationalise acts of transgressions (let’s not use the word “cheating”, please)?

One of the most common ethical grandstanding is to stand up for the truth no matter what the consequences are. How often do we see in the middle of a crisis that the natural response of a social system is to protect family/institutional honour. Let the fire not reach the sanctum sanctorum: From Watergate to Salomon Brothers and from FIFA to IOA to my home and yours, we all do it.

The high moral ground that the media takes, when they scream for justice, become invisible when their own family is accused of impropriety: “The News of the World” or with sting operations, which from time to time are conducted for extortion and TRPs.

It is cover-up if others do, when we do, it is our duty to protect the institutional honour. The Tom Cruise film, A Few Good Men, and John Grisham’s book, The Firm, illustrates this brilliantly. So what happens to our ethical touchstone, which we publicly profess?

Let us examine one more dharmasankat our governance committees face. Many wholetime directors give themselves handsome increase just before they retire, so that their pensions and retirement benefits are protected from inflation for decades. The governance committees (some are touted as exemplars) oblige. Should I dare call it impropriety, especially given the public position on ethics professed by these few good men & women? I know of only one CEO who took no pay rise, bonus or stock options in the year when he retired.

Some independent directors on the boards are even more resourceful. The unfolding saga of insider trading of a great thinker and a public do-gooder is a testimony to this. Did we see public outcry and frenzy, which we frequently see in most other cases, even after a court held him to be guilty? Instead the who’s-who of corporate India put up a gallant defence.

Whenever any cheating or expose happens, there is the “our type” and “their type” compartmentalised rationalisation. To us, the politicians are the punching bag and the corporate types are ethical beacons. But examine closely the corporate underbelly. I can assure you, the level of corrupt practices will shock you. I’d appreciate if some of you could share your experiences in the comments section.

The other popular theory is that the “Ivy Leaguers” are ethical paragons and the “vernacular medium village type” ones misguided and easy prey for the temptations. Harvard found out recently the level of cheating among their students! Add to this the family background recruitment test. Sir Mark Thatcher, who was more known for his notoriety and a famous surname, certainly has a great pedigree to be an underground arms dealer, living as a fugitive!

This brings us to the heart of the dilemma: Why do people cheat? Are the cheats  different from all of us? What about the many that cheat and are never caught?

Let me offer a few hypothesis for your examination:

The smart staircase Most people, when they cheat, are not conscious that they indeed are crossing the line. On the contrary, people think they are being smart. The system also reinforces this conduct by rewarding these “smart” people. I have, during the last 20 years, seen this at close quarters. For example, fudging numbers or being economical with information to stakeholders is the common “smart staircase” to the higher floors.

What starts as let-me-get-this-benefit or this-helps-me-win or let-me-manage-this-situation, at some point goes beyond the control of the person. Nick Leeson, the derivatives trader who managed to wreck Barings Bank, the UK’s oldest investment bank, with his fraudulent ways states how it all started as a “let me do it once to manage a big loss”. Soon, it landed him into a vortex and sucked him in. Professional arrogance and the ease with which he got away till the very end created in him a god-like invincibility. The “smart tag” and “learn from him” adoration from his bosses became his armour. Our yearning for magical results, make us believe the results, that are achieved through cheating, as having been accomplished by fair means. It becomes the gold dust that blinds us.

Temptation—that original sin
In “Banged Up Abroad”, a documentary on people who’ve been arrested while travelling abroad, offenders state that the thought that they are beating the system gives them a kick. It makes them arrogant and addicted. There is always the temptation of this being the “one last time”, until they were caught.

Once caught inside this web of deceit, it almost becomes impossible to extricate oneself without giving the game away. There is no quiet exit possible. Sometimes the partners in cheating coerce you to stay in. Most financial misappropriation or unholy alliances with vendors/suppliers/contractors end in misery for the employee. Once inside the game, you cannot walk away. The bookies—including the corporate bookies—won’t let you melt away.

Everyone does—can’t win otherwise
Lance Armstrong in his interview with Oprah Winfrey confessed that he figured out that the only way to win the Tour de France was to cheat. The comfort that most, if not everyone, did removed his guilt. In fact, it provided him a justification.

Could there have been a Coalgate or a 2G scam, if the private sector had not played ball with a justification, much like that of Armstrong? When firms and people mis-sell products and services, they have the same justification—ask everyone to stop, why only me.

Many cheat to protect what has been won. The fear of losing everything makes the consequences of cheating acceptable to some. Especially, if in their judgment, getting caught is improbable: Look at Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling, who killed Enron.

Protect reputation at any cost
Strangely, people cheat when reputations are to be protected. If Bill Clinton and Richard Nixon can, then the lesser mortals have no chance.

It’s pressure
Most of us blame inappropriate conduct on pressure. The moment wins. We may regret later. None of us can claim that under pressure we did not lie ever. When we move to the next level of transgression, it becomes cheating. Many of us grandstand that it does not happen to us. An honest (paradoxical expectation) reflection will tell us that pressure many times makes us do things, which we will assert is not in our character.

Rationalising cheating as being entrepreneurial
When people see cheating pays, and their ability won’t take them where cheating can, they elect for this path. Often vaulting ambition makes people over-reach. The recent chit fund fraud is a case in point. To many, this is entrepreneurial behaviour and not cheating. Wasn’t Ramalinga Raju of Satyam awarded and feted as an entrepreneurial exemplar, until the bubble burst?

In the early 20^th century US and in the last 30 years in India, there is at least one robber baron for every true business baron. Until caught, it is enterprise and entrepreneurship. Once again, it is the unquestioning “adoration of the smart” that keeps the fire burning.

The power and position trap
Sometimes people who themselves are honest, protect the dishonest in order to keep intact the system that propelled them to power or lets them hold on to it. Karna in the Mahabharata is a classic example for this.

We all have a limited sense of awareness about where and when we cross the line. Often a compelling need, greed, desperation, vaulting ambition, curiosity, foolish experimentation or sheer stupidity, make us do things, which we will swear is beyond us. The clarity with which the consequences appear in retrospect is fuzzy when we contemplate to or cross the line. This line is an imaginary one, like most disputed boundaries are.

We are told that god-fearing people do not cheat. Should we not remind ourselves that Ravana was an ardent devotee of Shiva? The great Yudhisthir cheated not once but twice to win a war.

To me, integrity is not cast in stone. It is more a line drawn on the sand, which is why it does not pay to ethically grandstand.

The thoughts and opinions shared here are of the author.