A few days ago, a friend shared on Facebook The New York Times article Morality and Michael Cohen, remarking, “greed or moral ground?” The comment got me thinking.
First, I believe most people have the capacity to change, becoming better people, righting what they did wrong, or simply striving not to repeat their past mistakes. There are countless examples of wrongdoers who’ve awaken from their sprees, reaching a plot point that spun their lives another direction.
As an example, when Kevin Mitnick was 16, he hacked into DEC’s computer system, resulting in his eventually spending 12 months in prison. Years later, after other offenses, he became an invaluable consultant to Fortune 500 companies and the FBI, helping them strengthen the security of their systems.
Before he was 19, Frank Abagnale had successfully posed as a Pan American World Airlines pilot, Georgia doctor, and Louisiana parish prosecutor, and also garnered millions of dollars by forging checks and participating in other schemes. After serving five years in prison – and escaping twice from custody – the FBI enlisted his services in identifying and catching other check forgers.
Second, people get trapped. In hindsight, it’s easy to dissect one’s follies and missteps. When enmeshed in the situation, however, it’s difficult to see the exit. My first job out of college was doing marketing for a po-dunk manufacturer of low-end scientific instrumentation like pH meters and electrodes. Most of the products were substandard but sold like hotcakes because they were cheap.
Everyday, I had to lie on the phone to unhappy customers, pretending it was a fluke their instruments stopped working, when I knew the failure rate was around 50 percent. I didn’t stay at the company long, and in the future, only worked for companies with reputable products.
Every day, every moment, hundreds of people are faced with dilemmas that tug at their morality. The product worker who knows the products being shipped have issues. The engineer who overlooks the bug in the code. The manager who exaggerates sales numbers. The executive who sidesteps complying with regulations. The CEO who collects a salary thousands of times higher than his workers, who rely on food stamps to feed their families.
The government official who says the water is safe to drink. The physician who prescribes opioids aware his patients aren’t in pain, but addicts. The broker who invests clients’ money in insecure instruments. The lawyer who wrestles with attorney-client privilege, knowing illegal activities are occurring.
Even my friend “anesthetizes her moral sense” pretending she’s an advocate for mental health, while just 5-hours away, her elderly, mentally ill sister is destitute and in poor health.
It’s easy to say, get another job. Walk away. Contact the authorities. Pretend you care. Do what’s right.
The reality isn’t always straightforward or easy.
There are bills to pay, challenges of finding another job, reprisals from being a whistle-blower, industry and public disgrace, and even arrest and imprisonment.
Michael Cohen is no angel. And maybe he’s simply singing a different song now that his maneuverings have been exposed. Then again, maybe he contemplated ending his professional relationship with Donald Trump, but was fearful of Trump’s predilection for vengeance and disgracing those who don’t kotow to his notions.
Two years ago, while visiting a museum in Barcelona, my husband and I started a conversation with a New York attorney who’d done business with Trump. He said Trump was devious, threatening and pitting people against each other to eventually get what he wanted.
For example, when building the Trump Turnberry Golf Course in Aberdeen, Scotland, Trump repeatedly tried to evict residents with homes adjacent to his course. Deeming the home of fisherman Michael Forbes, a “pigsty” and unsightly to see from the course, he cut off Forbes’ water supply in an attempt to bully him into moving. The tactic didn’t work or did it curtail Trump from continuing his intimidation campaign.
Put yourself in Michael Cohen’s shoes. Would you have the courage to walk away? To face being persecuted and threatened, and possibly having to leave the state to practice elsewhere? At what point would you say, “enough is enough?”
The Jewish scholar Hillel espoused “That which is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow.” It’s a simple statement yet difficult to abide. Few can claim they haven’t done something dissolute or dishonest, which they later regretted from denigrating an inferior to covering up an error, cheating on a spouse, or possibly committing a punishable crime, such as driving drunk.
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