The only position

While reviewing topics for my first class position paper, I encountered a news item detailing the resignation of the Tribune Company’s Lee Abrams, who served as the company’s chief innovation officer. As part of his role, Abrams sent out weekly e-mails to all employees in hopes of inspiring them to reconsider print and broadcast conventions.

The endeavor sounded noble enough—until you analyze the content of the e-mails in question. Last week’s edition included a link to video newscast parodies containing profanity and nudity. Abrams labeled it appropriately enough; the hyperlink read “Sluts.”

It didn’t take long for a number of Tribune employees to lodge complaints with HR. A few days later, Tribune chief Randy Michaels announced he had accepted Abrams’ resignation.

After glancing through this story, my mind quickly began framing the particulars within the constructs of ethical theory and practice. I immediately thought of Kidder’s justice vs. mercy ethical paradigm as I sat down to begin my position paper.

Fortunately, it didn’t take long to realize a major problem with this particular topic: Abram’s resignation involved no ethical dilemma. Yes, there were certainly elements of justice at work, but I couldn’t rationalize any acceptable application of mercy, nor could I identify more than one convincing “right.” It is right to assure all employees a safe, healthy work environment—one that’s free of sexual harassment and inappropriate e-mails. But then what? Was there a conflicting “right” at work here?

The answer, of course, is no. What Abrams did was wrong, plain and simple, and the consequences of his actions were easily justified.

I didn’t realize this at first, however. The abstract realm of ethics asks us to approach issues from a variety of viewpoints and theory. We must consider every alternative; there is rarely one right answer, and the middle ground is rife with different paths to similar ends. So when I sat down to write my paper, I assumed a variety of potential solutions would materialize.

But while the practice challenges our perceptions and beliefs, that doesn’t mean we should rationalize despicable behavior. Sometimes, certain actions are just wrong. Abram’s e-mail should never have been sent, and the acceptance of his resignation didn’t require any application of mercy.

Admittedly, this particular case would have made for any easy position paper. I wouldn’t have had to put much thought into siding with the only responsible outcome. But by the same token, my professor wouldn’t have had to put much thought into granting me the only rationale grade: an F. (Here’s hoping I’ve approached my new topic with an A-worthy analysis.)