The students at Sandy’s high school were badly shaken by the news that a classmate had killed himself. The suicide note said, “It’s hard to live when nobody cares if you die.”

Glen, a teacher, realized this was a teachable moment about the importance of making people feel valued. He asked his class to imagine they were about to die and to write a note “telling someone how and why you appreciate him or her.”

Sandy, who had a rocky relationship with her mother, decided to write her mom. Her letter read: “We’ve had some rough times and I haven’t always been a very good daughter, but I know I’m lucky to have you in my life. You’re the best person I’ve ever known. And even when I disagree with you, I never doubt you love me and want what’s best for me. Thanks for not giving up on me.”

When her mom read the note, she cried and hugged Sandy tightly but said little.

The next morning, Sandy found a note on her mirror. “Dearest Sandy, I want you to know being your mother is, by far, the most important thing in my life. Until I got your note, I thought I had lost your love and respect. I felt like such a failure. I intended to end it all last night. Your note saved my life.”

Be careful not to underestimate the power of expressed appreciation. It won’t always save a life, but it will always make someone’s life better.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:20 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

No matter how much we fear it, try to escape it, or ignore it, death comes to everyone. Wealth, fame, even wisdom and virtue provide no sanctuary.

It comes at its own time and place without regard for our readiness or its impact on survivors.

This week brought news of three deaths, each momentous in its own way as each life had its own unique path forged by circumstances and choices.

Ed McMahon, announcer, pitchman, and sidekick of Johnny Carson, died at 86. A former Marine Corps fighter pilot, his jovial nature attracted a large posse of friends and admirers and helped him achieve a hugely successful career and millions in earnings. None of these things, however, guaranteed happiness or security as his last years were spent in debt, ill health, and contentious litigation.

Farrah Fawcett, an iconic beauty known for her glamorous pin-up pictures and for being one of Charlie’s Angels, died at 62 after a hard, long public battle with cancer. She died with her companion for 27 years, actor Ryan O’Neal, at her side, struggling with all her might to enjoy her relationships a little longer.

These obituaries were eclipsed by the sudden death of 50-year-old “King of Pop” Michael Jackson. The one-gloved, red-jacketed, surgically altered, moon-walking singer/dancer was, for more than a decade, the brightest star in celebrity heaven. Once able to buy anything he wanted including a private zoo and the bones of The Elephant Man, Jackson also died in debt and in emotional prison – never able to overcome a host of personal demons.

Gilda Radner, another celebrity who died early, said: “I wanted a perfect ending. Now I’ve learned, the hard way, that some poems don’t rhyme and some stories don’t have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing…taking the moment and making the best of it without knowing what’s going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:33 AM | Permalink | Comment (5)

If you were arrested for kindness, would there be enough evidence to convict you?

Some people cheer up a room by entering it, others by leaving it. What do you bring to your interactions with workmates, friends, and family? Is it encouragement, optimism, or kind words? Or is it pessimism, criticism, or cynicism?

People often forget what we say and usually what we do, but as Maya Angelou said, “They always remember how we made them feel.”

Here are some other wise words about kindness:

“Wise sayings often fall on barren ground, but a kind word is never thrown away.”
– Sir Arthur Helps

“You will regret many things in life, but you will never regret being too kind or too fair.”
– Brian Tracy

“Don’t wait for people to be kind. Show them how.”
– Anonymous

“The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention.”
– Oscar Wilde

“That best portion of a good man’s life: his little, nameless, unremembered acts of kindness and of love.”
– William Wordsworth

“Kindness is loving people more than they deserve.”
– Joseph Joubert

“We are made kind by being kind.”
– Eric Hoffer

“Remember not only to say the right thing in the right place, but far more difficult still, to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment.”
– Benjamin Franklin

“You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson

“Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the beginning of wisdom.”
– Theodore Isaac Rubin, M.D.

“Today I bent the truth to be kind, and I have no regret, for I am far surer of what is kind than I am of what is true.”
– Robert Brault

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:17 AM | Permalink | Comment (7)

I agree with Abraham Heschel who said, “When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.”

Henry James was more emphatic: “Three things in human life are important: The first is to be kind. The second is to be kind. And the third is to be kind.”

In 1994, Dr. Chuck Wall, a professor of human relations and management at Bakersfield College in California, came up with a concept that turned into an influential movement. Weary of hearing about “senseless acts of violence,” he began to teach and talk about “random and senseless acts of kindness.” The idea was simple: The best response to a world coarsened by selfishness and cruelty is individual acts of kindness. Now there’s a movement and website devoted to promoting random acts of kindness.

In 1999, Catherine Ryan Hyde wrote the novel Pay It Forward, which later became a movie, that built on Dr. Wall’s initial inspiration. It starts with a teacher’s assignment: “Think of an idea for world change, and put it into action.”

Trevor, the 12-year-old hero, comes up with an idea to do something “real good” for three people. All he asks for in return is that each recipient of kindness “pay it forward” by doing a good deed for three other people. If you do the math, it’s clear that such a plan could quickly change the world.

Whether acts of kindness are spontaneous as advocated by Dr. Wall or premeditated as proposed by Ms. Hyde, they’re certainly not senseless. On the contrary, they’re the best proof of good sense. Every person can send forth ripples of kindness and compassion simply by being nice.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:30 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

Who would have thought? Next week begins my thirteenth year writing and recording these commentaries. That means I’ve been inflicting my thoughts on ethics and virtue on others with editorials about news events, anecdotes, stories, parables, and poems for 624 consecutive weeks, five days a week.

From the mail I get, I know I irritate and even infuriate some of you who think I’m too self-righteous, too idealistic, too liberal, too conservative, too religious, too secular, or just plain dumb. But it’s all worth it when I receive occasional notes telling me someone was inspired, encouraged, or comforted by something I said. A teacher can’t hope for more.

It’s a strange experience sitting alone in my home office (usually between midnight and 4 a.m.) composing little essays that will be heard or read by millions of people I’ve never met. Yet despite this isolated setting, I’ve shared so much of my life and deepest reflections that it feels more like writing personal letters to friends than sermonizing. Somehow, I feel a real and intimate bond with those of you who visit with me regularly.

I confess that on each anniversary I think of retiring from this especially taxing aspect of my work life. I’m nearly 67 and, to be honest, it gets harder to generate the energy after a full day of work to formulate thoughts worthy of your time.

It’s even harder in these difficult economic times for nonprofit organizations like Josephson Institute.

But whatever happens in the future, I couldn’t let this anniversary go by without thanking you for giving my life greater depth and meaning by letting me be part of yours.

To write me or receive my commentaries by e-mail at no charge, visit www.CharacterCounts.org.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:09 AM | Permalink | Comment (23)

Chris’s parents were proud of him when he graduated from college. But it’s been six months and he hasn’t gotten a job yet. In fact, he hasn’t even looked seriously. He has no idea what he wants to do and is thinking of grad school.

He’s living at home with his parents and things are getting tense, especially with his father, who says he’s lazy and afraid to enter the real world.

Chris thinks his dad is unreasonable. After all, you’re only young once and he needs some space. During a recent argument, Chris said, “I’m not you, Dad. I have my own way of doing things. I want a job I enjoy.”

His dad replied, “That’s a nice idea, but in the end they call it ‘work’ because it’s about making a productive living – not having fun.”

There are many youngsters like Chris who are having trouble getting started and becoming self-reliant. Some, like Peter Pan, just don’t want to grow up. Some are afraid of making a wrong decision or of being rejected. Others are victims of what psychologists call “magical thinking.” They believe when the time is right, everything will fall into place. So they wait for opportunity to come knocking or until they feel inspired or excited enough to take the next step.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work that way. What’s crucial is to begin. Things happen and opportunities appear most often when we’re moving, not standing still.

Momentum is vital. Basic physics stipulates that it’s easier to alter the course of a moving object than to start movement initially. In the end, it’s not really about finding yourself. It’s about making yourself.

The first steps are the hardest, but the key to success in anything is getting started.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:40 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”

Really? Insults, teasing, gossip, and verbal abuse can inflict deeper and more enduring pain than guns and knives.

Ask anyone who as a kid was fat, skinny, short, tall, flat-chested, big-busted, acne-faced, uncoordinated, slow-witted, or exceptionally smart. In schoolrooms and playgrounds across the country, weight, height, looks, and intelligence are the subject of more taunting and ridicule than race or religion.

And it doesn’t get better. Unkind words, tasteless jokes, criticism, and ridicule don’t lose their sting when we become adults.

There’s nothing new about this. But if we trivialize how damaging words can be, especially to youngsters, the ethical significance of verbal assaults can be lost. When we say words can’t hurt anyone, we negate the feelings of those who are genuinely hurt.

Instead of minimizing the importance of words, we should encourage parents and teachers to demand a higher level of respect and greater sensitivity precisely because words can be so powerful.

Yes, we should try to fortify our children’s sense of self-worth so they can bear insults and sarcasm better. And we should urge them not to take what others say too seriously. But it’s just as important to teach them that words have the power of grenades and must be used carefully.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:10 AM | Permalink | Comment (9)

Although I confess that living with the mood swings of my four adolescent daughters is not easy, every Father’s Day I’m literally brought to tears by the good fortune I have to love and be loved by my perfectly imperfect kids.

No experience or achievement I know rivals the turbulent blessings of fatherhood.

My grandparents frequently used two Yiddish phrases to describe the pleasure they had from their grandchildren. Naches (if you’ve never heard it, I don’t know how to tell you how to pronounce it since it doesn’t rhyme with any English word I know) means to experience joy. Kvell means to beam with pride and pleasure.

I get naches from good conversations, warm hugs, and hearing others say nice things about my kids. And that makes me kvell.

You’ve probably noticed how often I shamelessly talk about my children. And, before I forget, I must tell you that just yesterday, Mataya, my fifth-grader, made my buttons pop with pride when she delivered a commencement address that rivaled the one her eighth-grade sister gave two weeks earlier.

I have no illusions that I’m objective, but I don’t care to be when it comes to my children.

There are plenty of times when I express frustration, disappointment, and anger at certain things they say and do, but at the end of each day I feel grateful for the ample quantity of pride and joy that makes it all worthwhile. I just love being a dad.

If we take the time to notice and savor all the heart-grabbing moments our children give us, how can we not feel deeply thankful?

That’s why I think of Father’s Day as another Thanksgiving Day.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:06 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

As Father’s Day approaches, I want to share an edited version of a father’s letter to his son sent to me years ago by a listener named Sergio Ferreira.

Dear Son,
When I was a teenager I wished, just as you do now, that my dad could be my best friend. However, it wasn’t until my time to be a father when I understood why my wish would never come true.

There is the big difference between a friend’s role and father’s role.

A father must provide his son constant love, economic subsistence, and an education. He must also protect and guide him, set a good example, and instill in him ethical and moral values so he may become a more responsible, self-sufficient, and compassionate human being.

A father who tries to be a best friend can’t be a real father. To be a friend is voluntary. It’s an option. To be a father is a privilege, but above all it’s a moral obligation.

My duty as a father is to give you what you need, not necessarily what you want.

When you were born, God gave me a blessing that has brought me great happiness. At the same time, he gave me a difficult mission – to be responsible for your moral development and well-being.

Some day you’ll understand the meaning of this letter. It will be one of the happiest days of your life – when you hold your first child in your arms. From that moment on, you’ll understand that being a real father is much more important than being a friend.

This is Michael Josephson wishing all fathers and their children a glorious day of mutual appreciation and understanding love.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:47 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

When I was young, I idolized my father, judging him for his virtues. For most of the rest of my life, I criticized him, judging him for his faults.

I always loved him, but I didn’t always appreciate him. I was so aware of his imperfections (surely, no worse than my own) that I greatly undervalued his good qualities and all the things he did to make my childhood safe, comfortable, and fun.

It’s only when I met people who were neglected, ignored, or belittled by their fathers that I began to realize how lucky I was. I thought all dads were proud of, supported, and adored their children.

Until I became a father myself, I had no way of understanding the depth and intensity of his feelings and the emotional investment he had in my happiness.

I couldn’t imagine how much it must have upset him when I was cut from my baseball team or dumped by my first girlfriend or how pleased he’d be today seeing me become the kind of father he taught me to be.

I deeply regret I didn’t tell him often enough or enthusiastically enough that he was a great dad.

I can’t fix that now. But if your dad is still alive, you can.

Your father doesn’t need another Father’s Day tie, wallet, or sweater. If you want to give him a gift he will treasure forever, buy a nice picture frame. Put inside it a handwritten note telling him he did a good job with specific memories of how he’s enriched your life. Then tell him how much you love him.

I wish I’d done that for my dad.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:40 AM | Permalink | Comment (8)

I’ve been spending a lot of time lately consulting with large companies concerned with strengthening their ethical culture.

Although I’m sure the leaders I work with care about ethics and virtue for their own sake, I know the driving force to seek outside assistance is self-interest. The risk of reputation-damaging and resource-draining charges resulting from improper conduct is so high that it’s a matter of prudence and responsible stewardship to stress ethical values and moral principles.

Yet changing or strengthening an organization’s culture is no simple task. We start with a questionnaire to identify vulnerabilities – attitudes and behaviors that could jeopardize the company.

The most common vulnerability we find is a management style that represses frank and open discussions about ethical concerns and discourages revelation of bad news.

Invariably, we discover that at least one in five employees admit they lied to their superior about something significant within the past year and at least one-third concealed or distorted negative information to avoid harmful career repercussions. Often, half or more employees say they remain silent rather than risk their boss’s anger, abuse, or disapproval. Thus, many questionable or improper actions go unreported and uncorrected – each one a scandal waiting to happen.

The antidote is explicit and credible corporate policies that promote accountability by making it clear that repressive management styles will not be tolerated and that every employee is encouraged and expected to muster the moral courage to report unwelcome facts and to voice dissenting opinions.

Meaningful improvement in business ethical culture requires persistent and pervasive efforts to create an environment that values and protects honesty, personal responsibility, and corporate integrity.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:42 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

The world of ethics spreads from the borders of the absolutists, who think every moral question has a clear and single answer, to the coast of the relativists, who believe ethics is a matter of personal opinion or regional custom.

In distinguishing right from wrong, absolutists don’t see much of a difference between mathematical calculation and moral reasoning. They’re extraordinarily confident about their ethical judgments, which can range from uncompromising commitment to truth, responsibility, and authority of law to ideas about religious beliefs, abortion, premarital sex, protecting whales, and even body piercing and breastfeeding. Although absolutism is often associated with conservatism, radical liberals can be just as rigid.

While absolutists are less likely to rationalize or fall into the traps of situational ethics, they can become disrespectfully intolerant of other perspectives. Although they can be highly honorable, a "no exceptions" approach to principles like truthfulness can lead to undesirable results. If one insists that all lying is wrong, there is no moral difference between lying to collect insurance and lying to a 3-year-old about the tooth fairy, falsely praising a gift, or going undercover to catch drug dealers.

While I share the absolutists’ disdain for those who constantly find excuses to lie, cheat, or break promises, I face too many situations in life where my deeply held convictions conflict. Sometimes telling the absolute truth is so unkind or disrespectful that it isn’t morally required.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:01 AM | Permalink | Comment (7)

I’ve spent lots of time with some of the world’s most successful coaches, and many think about character a lot, especially traits that are important to winning: self-discipline, perseverance, resiliency, and courage. They pay less attention to virtues that make a good person, citizen, spouse, or parent: honesty, integrity, responsibility, compassion, respect, and fairness.

The problem is, even at the amateur level, many coaches are hired and paid to win, not to build character. Unless it interferes with performance, worrying about the kind of people athletes are off the field is a waste of time.

Coaches who seek to hone the mental and physical skills of winning while ignoring moral virtues of honor and decency too often produce magnificent competitors who are menaces to society.

Perhaps coaches of elite athletes not connected with educational or youth-serving institutions can operate in this moral vacuum, but all others have a responsibility to teach, enforce, advocate, and model aspects of good character such as trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring, and citizenship.

Whether it’s sports, business, or politics, whenever we divorce issues of competence from character, we create a class of amoral professionals who think they’re exempt from common standards of honor and decency. This discredits and demeans the moral standing of everyone involved.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:58 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

Every day since 3-year-old Michael was told he was going to have a baby sister he would touch his mommy’s tummy tenderly and sing all the songs he knew to the baby.

Tragically, the baby was born in critical condition, and the doctors said the newborn wouldn’t last through the week. Michael, who was unaware of the crisis, kept insisting he wanted to see his sister and sing to her. Although children weren’t allowed in intensive care, his mother let him come in and sing to her before she passed away.

When the nurse saw Michael in the room, she said, “That child will have to leave.”

Michael’s mom responded firmly, “Not until he sings to his sister.”

Michael didn’t notice all the wires attached to the tiny infant. Touching the outside of the plastic crib, he beamed and began to sing:

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.
You make me happy when skies are gray.
You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you.
Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

Strangely, the baby seemed to respond. Her pulse rate slowed and her breathing became easier. With tears in her eyes, the mother said, “Keep singing, Michael. Keep singing.”

The more he sang, the more the baby relaxed.

Soon even the nurse chimed in, “Keep singing, Michael. Keep singing.”

And Michael did. The baby fell into a calm, healing sleep. Within days, she was well enough to take home.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 11:55 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

I’ve talked before about the importance of making moral judgments. The idea is not to categorize or label others’ character but to clarify personal moral obligations in terms of specific values and attributes that make us better people and produce a better society.

The most effective framework I know is built on six core ethical values called the Six Pillars of Character: trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring, and citizenship. Thus, if you want to be a person of character:

First, be worthy of trust. Live with honor and integrity. Be honest. Keep your promises. Do what’s right even when it costs more than you want to pay.

Second, treat others with respect. Live by the Golden Rule. Avoid physical violence, verbal abuse, prejudice, and all acts that demean or offend human dignity.

Third, be responsible. Exercise self-discipline and self-restraint. Do your best. Be self-reliant and accountable for the consequences of your choices.

Fourth, strive to be fair. Don’t cheat. Be open and consistent. Don’t jump to conclusions. Be careful when making judgments about others.

Fifth, be caring, kind, empathetic, and charitable. Avoid selfishness. Do what you can to improve the lives of others.

Sixth, be a good citizen. Do your share to make your community better. Protect the environment. Participate in democratic processes. Play by the rules. Obey laws unless you have a compelling conscientious objection.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:42 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

When my son Justin was in high school, I went to an open house to meet his teachers. I was taken aback when one casually mentioned that she had disciplined him for cheating on a homework assignment.

When I asked Justin why he hadn’t told me, he shrugged, “You didn’t ask.”

I was disappointed at his reaction to say the least. Surely he knew that in relationships of trust, candor – volunteering information you know the other person thinks is important – is part of honesty. He said he hadn’t lied. In fact, he was adamant that as long as he hadn’t done anything to purposely deceive me, he was being trustworthy.

Not so. Trustworthiness involves a good deal more than not lying. Trusting relationships create high mutual expectations, not only of truthfulness but of frankness and openness about important information.

That’s why parents owe candor to their kids on matters that affect their lives (moving, divorce, remarriage). And why kids owe parents candor on matters concerning their safety and education.

My son was grounded, but the next day he came home beaming with self-satisfaction. “My teacher said that if she knew you were going to treat it so seriously, she wouldn’t have told you!”

The teacher didn’t understand or care about her duty of candor to parents either. And she sure didn’t grasp the idea of supporting parental efforts to build character.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:08 AM | Permalink | Comment (7)

Years ago I heard a story of a dad named Paul who gave his young son a small chalkboard to practice writing on. One evening his son called out from the bedroom, “Dad, how do you spell best?”

Paul answered him. Moments later, the boy hollered, “How do you spell kid?”

Finally he asked, “How do you spell ever?”

When the boy showed him what he'd written on the chalkboard, Paul expected to see “I’m the best kid ever.” Instead, the boy beamed as Paul read the message: “You’re the best dad a kid can ever have.”

Paul recalled that it was one of the best days of his life. In fact, he had to buy his son another chalkboard because he wanted to save this message forever and hang it on his wall. It’s still there.

Feeling appreciated is enormously important to adults as well as children. So much so that we often don’t think enough about what we’d most like to be appreciated for.

Being appreciated at work is a big deal. Who doesn’t want approval and respect from one’s boss and coworkers? Beyond the economic value of raises, promotions, and commendations, praise can be gratifying and motivating. That’s why good employers look for opportunities to acknowledge and thank employees for their contributions.

Yet as meaningful as work recognition is, if you could choose between winning your child’s “Best Mom/Dad a Kid Can Ever Have” award and being named “Best Employee,” which would you choose?

The point is not to belittle the pursuit of approval in your business life but to remind you how much more meaningful it is to know you’re important to and appreciated by the people who love and need you the most. Your most important job in life is to be worthy of that appreciation.

Being the “best ever” mom or dad, husband or wife, or friend – it doesn’t get any better than that.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:03 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

The best graduation speech I've ever heard was only five minutes long. It got a standing ovation – something I never saw before at a graduation ceremony. Most surprising of all, the speaker was an eighth grader.

It was my daughter Abrielle. For listeners who hate my proud daddy moments, turn the volume down.

Sure, I’d given her advice (“Make ’em laugh, make ’em think, and make ’em cry”) and she let me read and comment on her text, but she was adamant that this was to be her speech, not mine. And it was. It was uniquely Aby, not just in content but in a poised and charming delivery – despite wind blowing the graduation certificates off a table and having to pause to deal with her own unexpected tears.

She told funny stories, poking fun at herself, her classmates, and especially her teachers. Then she complimented the teachers and led a “give it up” cheer for them, only to conclude: “Okay, teachers are important, but let’s not get carried away. Getting an education is a side benefit. The real purpose of middle school is to make friends and have fun – am I right?”

Then she changed the mood, reminding her classmates to think about the three years of intense adolescent emotion – conversations, fights, getting caught between feuding friends, sharing deepest thoughts, and crying on each others’ shoulders.

Summing up, she said, “When we think back on these years, we will think about what happened to us and around us. But what was really the most important was what happened in us.

“When all is said and done,” she added, “the crucial years we spent in middle school were really about growing up…and you know what? That’s what high school is going to be like. And, in fact, the rest of our lives.”

I, of course, cried when I realized how much she has grown up.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:33 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

I’ve given my share of commencement addresses, and I confess it’s a head-swelling experience to tell a captive crowd how you think they ought to live their lives while wearing an academic robe and a very silly hat. After all, didn’t they come primarily to hear what you have to say? Actually, they didn’t. In fact, graduation speakers are impediments to the real goal of the day – celebration, not reflection.

So what we need is a good one-minute graduation speech. Here’s my effort:

“Okay, folks, you got your degrees. Now you have to move toward other goals. If you don’t have any, borrow the goals of the person next to you. They’re probably as good as any, and besides, true success isn’t always getting what you think you want but learning to want what you get. Perhaps the most important thing you can do is prepare yourself to deal with unavoidable ups and downs and unexpected turns that are almost certain to scuttle the best-laid plans.

“Take control of your life by taking control of your attitudes. Remember, pain and disappointment are inevitable, but tough times are temporary. Persist with confidence that no negative emotion can withstand your will to be happy.

“Listen to both your heart and your head. Pursue your passions, but don’t confuse feelings with facts, fun with happiness, or pleasure with fulfillment. Live within your means. Don’t sacrifice a thousand tomorrows for a few todays.

“Be especially careful of choices that can jeopardize your health, reputation, or important relationships. Safeguard your integrity. You never know when you’ll need it.

“Finally, don’t settle for a little life. Fill it with purpose and meaning and people worthy of your love and respect.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:37 AM | Permalink | Comment (10)

Chad and his three friends were college seniors and doing well in their classes. Even though the final physics exam was on Monday, Chad persuaded his buddies to take a weekend trip several hundred miles away. He told his worried friends they could study in the car, during the trip, and when they got back Sunday night. Instead, the boys partied all weekend. By Sunday night, they knew they weren’t ready for the exam.

Chad, an A student, told them to relax. He had a plan. He called the professor at home Monday morning and told him they were on the road and ready to take the final, but they’d had a flat tire. They didn’t have a spare and couldn’t get help. Chad convinced the professor to let them take a make-up exam the following day.

When they showed up, the professor placed them in separate rooms and handed each a test booklet. They were relieved that the first problem, worth 5 points, was simple. They were less pleased when they read the second problem, worth 95 points: “Which tire was flat, and what time did the repair truck come?”

Chad’s exam had an additional note: "Chad, I just received a reference request for you from Harvard. How you do on this exam will determine how I fill it out."

Then he added a P.S.: "You took two exams today. One was on physics. The other was on integrity. It would have been much better if you only flunked physics."

Kids will be kids, but all choices have consequences. Chad and his buddies took a risk by not studying, but they took a greater one when they made up a phony excuse.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:34 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

You probably heard that LeBron James, nicknamed “King James,” acted like a spoiled prince after his team was soundly thrashed in game that eliminated his team from the NBA Eastern Conference Finals. It was a crushing disappointment to this 24-year-old superstar whose personal performance was stellar, even heroic.

No one could blame him for wanting to scurry out of the spotlight without congratulating and shaking the hands of the players who beat him.

No one could blame him for wanting to shun the mandatory postgame press conference where he'd be forced to put his pain on display and answer repetitive questions about how the golden team with the best winning record in all of basketball could have been so soundly defeated.

No one could blame him for wanting to avoid his responsibilities. But we can blame him for doing so. Duties often trump desires.

When he failed to acknowledge his opponents, he dishonored the tradition of the game and breached his responsibility as a role model to be gracious in defeat. It’s not simply a matter of sportsmanship; it’s a matter of respect.

When he ditched the league’s mandated press conference, he violated his responsibilities to his teammates (he left them alone to explain the defeat) and to the game that made him a multimillionaire and an international icon.

Later he made things worse.

Ignoring the old adage, “When you’re in a hole, stop digging,” unkingly James dug much deeper with this explanation: “It’s hard for me to congratulate someone after you lose to them. I’m a winner. I’m not being a poor sport. When somebody beats you up, you’re not going to congratulate them. That don’t make sense to me. I’m a competitor. That’s what I do. It doesn’t make sense to shake somebody’s hand.”

In terms of foolishness, the statement is similar to Charles Barkley’s controversial remark in a Nike ad: “I am not a role model. I am not paid to be a role model.”

LeBron seemed to be saying that a guy who’s used to winning, a man with a fierce competitive spirit, can’t be expected to lose with grace or to honor the traditions of his sport by shaking hands with the opponents who beat him. If he’s right, the only athletes bound by the constraints of sportsmanship are those who don’t care about winning as much as LeBron.

This is not only stupid, it isn’t what LeBron really believes. At least it’s not how he’s acted until now. LeBron James has to this point been an outstanding role model. His interactions with the press and other players have revealed a fundamentally good guy, gracious and classy in both defeat and victory.

His clean record, however, doesn’t entitle him to a free pass. He’s too visible, too important to the game. The beating he’s been taking in the press, therefore, is a predictable and proper result demonstrating the moral axiom: “You can avoid your responsibilities, but you can’t avoid the consequences of avoiding your responsibilities.”

That’s okay. He’s got years ahead of him to reclaim his reputation. One bad moment doesn’t make someone a bad person. I hope and expect he’ll make better choices in the future and regain his throne.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

This text version is longer than the audio version.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:17 AM | Permalink | Comment (31)

As I was writing the introduction for my book of essays The Best Is Yet to Come and reflecting on the gratifying but unexpected success of my radio commentaries, I came to realize the debt I owe to Jack Canfield and Victor Hansen, creators of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series of inspirational books. It’s easy for some to dismiss these collections of stories as corny or manipulative, but they work, at least for me.

What’s more, they deserve credit for reintroducing our culture to parables and personal stories as a means of teaching and touching not just the mind but the heart. They give teachers like me permission to go beyond reason and logic and tap into the full range of human emotions and experiences in a way that reminds us of our softer side, even to the point of drawing tears.

William Arthur Ward said, “The mediocre teacher tells. The good teacher explains. The superior teacher demonstrates. The great teacher inspires.” I aspire to inspire – often with stories that help us understand, encourage us to do better, and remind us of things we know but don’t think about often enough.

These stories are needed antidotes to the toxic cynicism that pervades popular culture and causes us to measure humanity by its weaknesses rather than its strengths. We need to be reminded that the love, self-sacrifice, integrity, and courage of ordinary people confirm the extraordinary human capacity for nobility and prove that cynicism is a deplorable lie.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:44 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

Reach for the stars. Pursue goals beyond your grasp. These are good life strategies. We never know how much we can accomplish until we try.

But what happens when we’re told we must reach the stars or suffer consequences?

A common workplace strategy to spur employee achievement is to set aggressive productivity objectives that, like mechanical rabbits that lead racing greyhounds, are usually beyond reach. Benignly called “stretch goals” by those who set them, the idea is to generate maximum effort. A salesperson who’s expected to increase sales by 10 percent may only achieve a 6 percent gain, but that’s still pretty good.

But there’s a downside to this clever management technique. For one thing, it generates unhealthy stress and low morale when employees catch on to the game and resent being manipulated like racing dogs. For another, unrealistic stretch goals overemphasize short-term performance and encourage employees to conceal, ignore, and defer problems. Finally, some employees will simply cheat to make the numbers.

Organizational audits conducted by Josephson Institute reveal that a high percentage of employees who are pressured to achieve ever-escalating numerical goals manipulate numbers and distort reports. A significant number outright lie.

Pressure is no excuse for cheating, but it’s a frequent cause. Those who play the stretch goal game are accountable for the predictable side effects of relentlessly pursuing numbers, especially if they don’t place even greater emphasis on honesty and integrity.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:37 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)