I had the sad privilege of attending a final commemoration of the life of Coach John Wooden.

Although I did not know him as well as so many others, I knew him well enough to feel a deep personal loss.

I am not a hero worshipper, but John Wooden was unusually gracious, humble, wise, and witty.

It was inspiring to be in the presence of a person who was genuinely righteous without an ounce of self-righteousness.

And though Coach Wooden never flaunted his deep religious convictions or imposed his beliefs on others, he was an extremely faithful man.

His fidelity to his wife Nell is the stuff of romantic legends. She died in 1985, but every month for the next 25 years her husband John wrote her a note and deposited it in a tray that sat atop her neatly folded nightgown on her side of their bed.

He frequently said he had no fear of death because he was certain he’d spend the rest of eternity in Heaven with his dear Nell.

His fidelity to his Lord was equally strong. In his poem "Don't Look Back," he wrote:

The years have left their imprint
On my hands and on my face.
Erect no longer is my walk
And slower is my pace.

But there is no fear within my heart
Because I'm growing old,
I only wish I had more time
To further serve my Lord.

John Wooden defined success as doing your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming. And, of course, he believed that we all are capable of being far more than we might think.

He insisted he was no better than anyone else, but he really was.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

“Forever Coach,” one of my favorite articles on Coach, was written on his 95th birthday by Eric Neel of ESPN.

You can see a video of Coach reciting a favorite poem here and other videos about him here.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:53 AM | Permalink | Comment (0)

Should a job applicant properly withhold information about a criminal record or termination from a previous job? Should a woman starting a new relationship say nothing about a previous marriage or abortion? These are problems of candor: When does an ethical person have a duty to reveal negative information about his or her past?

First, let’s reinforce a basic premise: All dimensions of honesty – truthfulness, nondeception, and candor – are important to establishing and sustaining relationships of trust. Intimacy flourishes in an atmosphere of openness and vulnerability. While knowledge of negative information can damage a relationship, secrets discovered later can be fatal.

Second, there’s a much higher expectation of full disclosure in personal relationships than in business relationships.

But, to paraphrase Jack Nicholson’s character in A Few Good Men, not everyone can handle the truth. So why sabotage ourselves by telling a new boss, friend, or potential life partner things that could impede the relationship?

As tempting as it is, keeping such matters secret is like burying landmines within the relationship. Undisclosed truths build fault lines under the foundation of important relationships. In a person of conscience, they can create guilt, fear, and insecurity.

Trust is a state of mind, but maintaining trust is about meeting the expectations of people who trust us. So here’s an easy test: Upon finding out the whole truth, will the person to whom you denied knowledge feel betrayed? If so, the honorable thing is to fess up.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:02 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

Ready or not, some day it will all come to an end.
There will be no more sunrises, no minutes, hours, or days.
All the things you collected, whether treasured or forgotten, will pass to someone else.
Your wealth, fame, and temporal power will shrivel to irrelevance.
It will not matter what you owned or what you were owed.
Your grudges, resentments, frustrations, and jealousies will finally disappear.
So too, your hopes, ambitions, plans, and to-do lists will expire.
The wins and losses that once seemed so important will fade away.
It won't matter where you came from or what side of the tracks you lived on at the end.
It won't matter whether you were beautiful or brilliant.
Even your gender and skin color will be irrelevant.

So what will matter? How will the value of your days be measured?

What will matter is not what you bought, but what you built; not what you got, but what you gave.
What will matter is not your success, but your significance.
What will matter is not what you learned, but what you taught.
What will matter is every act of integrity, compassion, courage, or sacrifice that enriched, empowered, or encouraged others to emulate your example.
What will matter is not your competence, but your character.
What will matter is not how many people you knew, but how many will feel a lasting loss when you're gone.
What will matter is not your memories, but the memories that live in those who loved you.
What will matter is how long you will be remembered, by whom, and for what.

Living a life that matters doesn't happen by accident.
It's not a matter of circumstance but of choice.
Choose to live a life that matters.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:28 AM | Permalink | Comment (9)

Years ago, a listener told me her mom died, leaving only a general will and a house full of personal items with sentimental and, in some cases, significant financial value. My listener said tensions were building among the sisters as they approached the problem of allocating their mom’s stuff.

Each sister had different and conflicting expectations. The eldest believed her mom wanted her to have first choice of items. The middle sister was the major caregiver, and their mom had told her, "I want you to have anything you want." The youngest daughter said mom promised certain important items to her to give to the grandchildren.

None of the sisters was greedy, and no one wanted to fight over mom’s things, but emotions were strong. Each was willing to surrender her claim, but could they do so without hard feelings?

Unfortunately, this sort of situation is not uncommon.

First, the daughters should talk openly and agree that their relationships with each other are worth more than belongings.

Second, they should promise not to say or do anything that their mom would disapprove of or that would sully their memory of her.

Third, each sister must choose to let go of her expectations and claims, as if all items were destroyed in a fire.

Finally, they should find creative ways to divide the property without winners or losers. They might draw lots to establish a sequence of choices. Or certain important items could rotate annually among them. If some things are too encumbered with emotional claims, they should be sold or given to someone else.

What’s vital is that everyone remember that things are just things. It’s love and memories that have real and lasting value.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:29 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

If I wanted to check your credit worthiness, I'd look at your balance sheet – what you have and what you owe – and I'd want to know about your history of paying your debts.

If I wanted to know your values, I'd look at your calendar and checkbook.

How come? Well, the term "values" refers to core beliefs and convictions that drive decisions.

Our values are revealed not by what we say but by what we do.

The simple fact is, time and money are limited resources that can materially affect the quality of our lives, so how we spend them reveals what's really important to us.

We tend to think of our values in the grand context of our deepest moral convictions, but most of us have strong desires that have nothing to do with right and wrong. We value pleasure, comfort, companionship, adventure, and though we hate to admit it, certain possessions and luxuries.

There’s nothing wrong with having and pursuing these non-moral values so long as ethical values aren’t sacrificed in the process. Ultimately, though, it’s how we prioritize competing values that defines us.

Our character is determined by our dominant values.

So if you knew that your character would be judged by the choices reflected in your calendar and checkbook, would you spend either your time or money differently?

Are you spending enough time with your children, your parents, your friends? Are you devoting enough time helping others, reflecting, learning, and growing?

Do you put your money where your mouth is? Do you give an adequate amount of your income to charity? Are you making the choice to help the causes you really believe in?

The good news: it's never too late to change your priorities.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 11:41 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

I've talked before about the importance of making moral judgments. The idea is not to encourage categorizing or labeling the character of others 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.

If you want to be a person of character:

First, be worthy of trust; live with honor and integrity; be honest, keep your promises, and do what's right even when it costs more than you want to pay.

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

Third, be responsible; exercise self-discipline and self-restraint; do your best, be self-reliant, and be accountable for the consequences of your choices.

Fourth, strive to be fair, don't cheat, be open and consistent, don't jump to conclusions, and be careful in making judgments about others.

Fifth, be caring, kind, empathetic, and charitable; avoid selfishness; and 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, and obey laws (unless you have a compelling conscientious objection).

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:35 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

Some years ago, a senior executive at a large company objected when I asserted that corporations have an ethical, as well as a legal, obligation to keep promises and honor their contracts. He said the decision to live up to or ignore contractual commitments is a business decision, not an ethical one.

His primary responsibility, he said, was to the stockholders. He noted that most of the time it is wise to fulfill your promises because there are legal and relationship risks involved in breaking contracts, but in the end the decision to honor or renounce a business agreement should be based on a cost/benefit analysis. Ethics has nothing to do with it.

This claim that business executives are justified in treating the pursuit of self-interest as a moral imperative is disturbing and dangerous. It’s also common.

The theory that expediency, not ethics, should control decision making in business flourishes because many people compartmentalize their lives into personal and business domains, choosing to believe each domain is governed by different moral standards.

As a result, fundamentally good people who would never lie, cheat or break a promise in their personal lives delude themselves into thinking they can properly do so in business.

Nonsense! There’s no such thing as "business" ethics. There’s only ethics. Fundamental standards of right and wrong, such as trustworthiness, respect, responsibility, fairness, caring, and good citizenship, do not become irrelevant when we enter the workplace.

And it doesn’t matter how many people think otherwise. Ethics is not a description of the way people actually behave. It’s a prescription for how we ought to behave. In business -- and, for that matter, in politics, sports, journalism, and parenting -- ethical principles are not simply factors to be taken into account; they’re ground rules.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:38 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

This is a poem I wrote for my children.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:44 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

As Father’s Day approaches, I want to share an edited version of a letter 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 came up 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 9:26 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

I’ve expressed before my admiration and appreciation for police officers, who undertake the responsibility of serving and protecting the rest of us. But when I was invited to give a commencement address for police academy graduates, instead of talking about physical risks, I addressed the importance of safeguarding their character.

While some graduates were fulfilling a lifelong dream and looked at police work as a calling, to others it was just a way to make a decent living. Yet no matter how they enter this highly unique profession, their perspective of human nature can become distorted by dealing with a disproportionate number of violent, dishonest, irresponsible, and disrespectful people.

In their world, even basically good people are often at their worst – all this in the context of a highly imperfect criminal justice system. I suspect the average police officer has three or more frustrating experiences for every fulfilling one.

Officers driven by a sense of service and a commitment to significance are more likely to perform their duties and withstand pressures and temptations than those who think in terms of personal advancement and financial success. A one-in-four success rate can energize a missionary with hope while a three-in-four failure rate will overwhelm a mercenary with cynicism.

While this may be just another way of highlighting the difference between those who see a glass as half empty or half full, hidden within that observation is a profound insight: People who believe they can make a difference are always right.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:18 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

I didn’t mean to be disrespectful, but when I was invited to speak to a group of student leaders at a prominent college, I asked what they had done to justify the label “leader.”

Most responded that they were selected or elected to represent fellow students and that their official position in student government confirmed they were leaders.

I suppose “office” or “authority” is a form of leadership, but to me leadership is an active noun. Office provides authority and status that can be used to lead, but if those tools aren’t employed effectively, the officeholder is not a leader.

True leaders are catalysts to bold action or meaningful change. They teach, persuade, and inspire. They change minds and attitudes. They mobilize people. The credentials of a real leader are the list of things he or she reforms for the better.

Unfortunately, exemplary student leadership is as rare as exemplary governmental leadership. One reason is that politicians in both contexts are often more concerned with building their resumes than changing the world. Another is that they tend to be so preoccupied with small issues that appeal to the immediate self-interest of their constituents that they fail to address harder, but more important, problems.

Focusing on the perennial issues of student government – parking, food services, social events, and apathy – virtually guarantees insignificance.

If you want to be a real leader, do something that truly matters. Tackle binge drinking, substance abuse, plagiarism and other cheating, irresponsible and disrespectful sex, hazing, or indifferent and incompetent teaching.

Sure, these issues are complex and difficult, but that’s why we need leaders.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:33 AM | Permalink | Comment (7)

One of the pleasures I get from doing these commentaries is to hear that something I said had real value to a listener. It’s particularly flattering when someone wants a written copy of a particular program so the person can share it with someone he or she knows.

I feel honored by such requests and don’t want to bite the hand that pats my back, but it’s troubling how often listeners tell me they want to use my remarks not as a personal guide but as a bludgeon to beat some family member or work associate over the head. I imagine the presentation going something like “Here – if you want to know what’s wrong with you, read this!"

First of all, I can’t imagine someone, after being presented with an essay as a form of assault, would thank his or her assailant and pledge to change. Even the best advice is rarely well-received if it’s critical. It may take a wise person to give good advice, but it takes a really honest and courageous one to take it with grace.

Respectfully, I suggest my commentaries work better as a mirror than a club. So the next time you hear me talking about integrity, cynicism, lying, rationalizing, or similar topics, please remember that you don’t have to be sick to get better. Think about how the comment may apply to your life, not someone else’s.

I’m happy to supply copies of any commentary to anyone, but it feels a lot better knowing it’s for you, something to keep in your wallet or desk or on the refrigerator to remind you of how much better you can be.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:38 AM | Permalink | Comment (3)

While window-shopping in New York City, I saw an old gold watch that reminded me of one my father gave me when I graduated from college. It had been engraved with the simple inscription “Love, Dad.” But it was stolen during a burglary years ago, and I hadn’t thought much of it or the inscription since.

I always knew my dad loved me. I took it for granted. He was supposed to. I was his son. I’m always a bit shocked when I run into people who have had a different experience. The truth is, not all dads love their kids, and those who do don’t always express it. I had no idea how lucky I was.

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 hurt him when I was cut from my baseball team or dumped by my first girlfriend or how proud he’d be today seeing me become the kind of father he taught me to be.

I always assumed I loved my dad and he knew it, but the truth is, my love was shallow and unexplored. I never came close to feeling or expressing gratitude for all the ways he made my childhood safe, comfortable, and fun. I wish I had given him that gift.

Of course, my dad wasn’t perfect. He had flaws like everyone else. It’s so easy to overweigh our parents’ shortcomings, underweigh their virtues, and undervalue their love.

What’s not easy is experiencing and expressing gratitude while it still matters.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 12:11 PM | Permalink | Comment (8)

Tim knew his father was an important lawyer who worked most nights and weekends. So he was disappointed but not surprised when his father didn’t attend his last soccer game of the season.

That night he got up the nerve to interrupt his dad’s work to ask, “How much do lawyers make?”

Annoyed, his father gruffly answered, “My clients pay me $300 an hour.”

Tim gulped. “Wow, that’s a lot. Would you lend me $100?”

“Of course not,” his father said. “Please, just let me work.”

Moments later, he heard his son sobbing in the other room, and he called him back. “Son, I’m sorry. If you need some money, of course I’ll lend it to you. But can I ask why you need it?”

Tim said, “Well, I’ve saved $200, and if you lend me a hundred, I’ll have enough.”

“Enough for what?”

“To buy an hour of your time so you can come to our banquet on Friday and see me get the most valuable player award. Will you come?”

His father felt like he’d been stabbed in the heart. For the first time, he realized the cost of his priorities. None of his clients needed him as much as his son, and nothing he could do as a lawyer was more important than what he could do as a father. How had he missed that insight?

It’s always difficult to balance job demands and family needs, but the test of whether you work too much is simple: Are you able to be the kind of parent your child deserves?

Few people look back on their lives and wish they’d spent more time at the office. Far more wish they’d spent more time with their kids.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

This story is derived and adapted from one circulated on the Internet without attribution. The original source is unknown.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:11 AM | Permalink | Comment (8)

A critical maxim of management is “Suitability is as important as capability.” Capability asks, “Can they do the job?” Suitability asks, “Are they right for the job?”

If the job isn’t a good fit, it’s not a good job.

Yes, an employee has to have (or be able to readily acquire) the skills and knowledge required for excellent job performance, but compatibility can be more critical than capacity.

There are three aspects to suitability: intellect, temperament, and objectives.

Intellectually, will the employee be challenged but not overtaxed by the job? People who are overqualified usually fail or leave because they get bored or hate being underutilized. On the other hand, employees who must stretch mightily to do a job often find it too stressful to do so continually.

Temperament and personality are also important. Some people flourish while others wilt in particular organizational cultures. Some need more authority or autonomy than a job entails while others want closer supervision and more direction. Some love and others hate detail work. Some rebel against too much structure while others need orderliness and predictability.

Fit involves integration with existing people and practices and compatibility with the style and values of their boss. An organization should encourage fresh ideas, creativity, innovation, and a willingness to challenge assumptions and approaches, but there’s a significant downside to employees who spend too much energy trying to change their coworkers and the way things are done.

Finally, does the job make sense given the applicant’s financial and career objectives? Despite pledges and protests to the contrary, employees who think they’re taking a step backward in pay or prestige often find easy excuses to leave. In such cases, it’s like hiring a temp but without the control over timing.

A responsible manager must be perceptive and prudent. Just as job applicants tend to say whatever they think the employer wants to hear, employers who need to fill a job tend to believe whatever they want to hear.

There’s no lasting benefit when suitability gaps are filled with wishful thinking or rationalizations.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:48 AM | Permalink | Comment (2)

Noah needed an A on his term paper. A friend said that lots of kids recycled papers they didn’t write, and he offered to give him a paper his older brother had gotten an A on three years before.

When Noah asked his father for advice, his dad told him he hoped he wouldn’t cheat, but he didn’t want to be judgmental. “It’s your life, Son,” he said. “I can’t tell you what you should do. It’s a personal decision.”

That’s shabby parenting. Noah’s dad declined to provide moral guidance and lost a golden opportunity to strengthen Noah’s values and his own credibility as a reference point. Kids need parents to bolster their moral willpower and to help them resist temptations. His reluctance to intervene and influence was an abdication of responsibility.

What’s more, his noncommittal response wasn’t an expression of neutrality but a statement that conveyed the moral judgment that honesty and integrity are optional.

Yes, this was a personal decision. Noah could choose to be honest or dishonest, ethical or unethical – it was his call. But the real question was one of propriety. He didn’t ask his dad, “What can I do?” but “What should I do?” This was a question about ethics, and it shouldn’t have been dodged or evaded.

If we want our children to build good values and strong character based on virtue, we have to teach and advocate those principles. Sometimes that means saying, “That’s wrong.”

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:52 AM | Permalink | Comment (15)

When I met Coach Wooden, he was already an 88-year-old legend.

Despite my skepticism about idealizing or idolizing anyone, I immediately became an enthusiastic admirer. I’m sure that even this great man had flaws and weak moments, but his persona as a man of uncommon integrity, compassion, and wisdom was bigger than the man himself.

His home reflected his simple values.

Nearly every inch of wall, table, or shelf space in his tiny 700-square-foot condo was covered with photos, awards, tributes, and memorabilia celebrating his unrivaled record of championships; the personal devotion of former players; and his love for his children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

Literally hundreds of awards and inscribed gifts were strewn everywhere, not to impress visitors but as a sign of respect for the people who gave things to him. It wasn’t in Coach’s nature to dishonor or trivialize any gesture of appreciation.

I asked whether any of the mementos had special meaning. He showed me a Big Ten Medal he won in 1932 for academic achievement and a medal for humanitarianism he was awarded the year after one of his heroes, Mother Teresa, received the same award.

Then he went to a file cabinet and took out a typewritten poem from Sven Nader, a former player, and he read it to me. The last few lines say it all:

I saw love once,
‘Twas not pretend.
He was my coach,
He is my friend.

Coach was a little teary-eyed when he said, “This really means a lot to me.”

Ever since that day, giving and receiving honest expressions of appreciation mean a lot to me, too. Coach had a way of changing how you think.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

We've posted a few photos of Coach Wooden’s mementos here. More are available on Michael's Facebook page.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 5:13 PM | Permalink | Comment (3)

The tidal wave of praise and tributes commemorating Coach John Wooden's passing makes it hard to add something new. My effort is the following pledge derived from his Pyramid of Success and some of his favorite maxims. I invite you to take the pledge and pass it on to others.

(Learn how Coach Wooden helped launch our Pursuing Victory With Honor sportsmanship campaign and see a video of him talking to Institute president Michael Josephson here.)

I pledge to improve and safeguard my character and to myself be true,
   being faithful to my convictions in all I say and do.
I will strive to do what's right and let my conscience be my guide,
   knowing my worth is measured by what I am inside.
I'll take on each day enthusiastically and give every task my all.
   I will not whine, complain, or make excuses, even if I fall.
I will live my life with purpose, thinking ahead and having a plan.
   I will never allow what I can't do interfere with what I can.
I will find opportunity in adversity and do things right the first time through
   and never be afraid to change or try something new.
I will be patient, poised, and confident, working toward each goal,
   being sure to govern my emotions and demonstrating self-control.
I will count my blessings daily and be grateful for what I possess,
   getting joy from moderation and avoiding all excess.
I will work hard and take initiative in order to excel,
   and I'll make big things happen by doing the little things well.
I will pursue victory with honor, not letting praise or criticism change how I act,
   and I'll strive to be worthy of pride and emulation, in reputation and in fact.
I will be sincere, honest, and loyal, worthy of other's trust.
   I will be respectful and responsible, doing what I must.
I will always act with fairness and show others how much I care,
   and I'll be a good citizen and always do my share.
I will live my life with dignity, passion, and fun
   and make each day my masterpiece when all is said and done.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

*Derived by Michael Josephson of the Josephson Institute of Ethics from the writings and philosophy of Coach John Wooden.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:38 AM | Permalink | Comment (4)

In the past year, did you keep the money if a cashier gave you too much change? Did you lie to your boss, a customer, or a significant other? Did you use the Internet for personal reasons at work? Did you distort or conceal facts on a resumé or in a job interview? Did you inflate an expense or insurance claim? Did you make unauthorized copies of software or music?

Have you ever lied about your child’s age to save money or provided your youngster with a false excuse for missing school? If it was the only way to get your child into a better school, would you lie about your address?

To test these and other questions, we’ve posted an online integrity assessment for adults. See how you measure up here.

A lack of integrity in any of the everyday matters above may be just a moral misdemeanor compared to the felonious sorts of fraud and corruption that have shredded the economic foundation of our country. Nonetheless, they demonstrate an unwillingness to walk the talk when it comes to honesty.

Most of us stray from our highest ethical ambitions from time to time, but we do so selectively, convincing ourselves that we’re justified and that occasional departures from ethical principles are inconsequential when it comes to our character.

Most of us judge ourselves by our best actions and intentions, but children who watch everything we do may be learning from our worst.

No one expects you to be perfect, but you might find it informative to take the test and see if you stray from the straight and narrow path of your own ideals too far or too often.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 9:44 AM | Permalink | Comment (6)

No one wants pain, troubles, or hardship, but it’s inevitable that we’ll have plenty of each. And they won’t come at times of our choosing or in manageable doses. Adversity is never welcome, but it’s not necessarily our enemy.

As a blade is sharpened by friction with a harder stone, our character and the quality of our lives can be shaped and strengthened through struggle and striving. Shakespeare said, “Sweet are the uses of adversity which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, wears yet a precious jewel in his head.”

Adversity’s precious jewel is cut by the chisels of confidence and competence, forged in a process of confronting and overcoming difficulties. As Nietzsche said, “What does not destroy me makes me stronger.”

The following poem by an unknown author reminds us that what we need isn’t always what we want:

I asked for Strength and God gave me Difficulties to make me strong.
I asked for Wisdom and God gave me Problems to solve.
I asked for Prosperity and God gave me Brain and Brawn to work.
I asked for Courage and God gave me Danger to overcome.
I asked for Love and God gave me Troubled People to help.
I asked for Favor and God gave me Opportunities.
I got nothing I wanted.
But I received everything I needed.

The road to achievement and fulfillment is dotted with hazards and tragedies that can wound us, frighten us, and slow us down. But afflictions and misfortunes can stop us only if we surrender.

If we exercise courage, patience, and perseverance, we can overcome any adversity, bearing pains we cannot relieve and solving problems we cannot avoid.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

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

I once received a note from Gwen, a youth coach who learned that Bill, a close friend who coached another team, lied about the age of some of his gymnasts to increase their chances of winning.

She knew her kids would recognize that his athletes were in the wrong age division and would be upset, but she didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to lose Bill as a friend and was afraid that blowing the whistle would ruin her reputation in the close-knit gymnastics community.

Let’s start by recognizing that ethical problems come in two forms. Some are problems of discernment, where it’s difficult to determine what’s right. Others are problems of discipline, where it’s clear what should be done but doing so is difficult.

Gwen’s problem fell into the discipline category. Bill’s actions were clearly wrong, and she had a responsibility to prevent them. She couldn’t let her kids down by looking the other way just because it was hard to stand up for what’s right. As Edmund Burke said, “All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good people to do nothing.”

Gwen could confront Bill to give him a chance to fix the problem. If he didn’t, she had to report him.

Yes, this would probably destroy their friendship, but the gap in their values had already made that inevitable. It was also likely that some colleagues would take Bill’s side. There will always be a split between those who cheat and those who don’t.

Still, if Gwen was a coach, she was a teacher. Her problem was a great opportunity in disguise. Doing the right thing when it’s personally costly is the best possible way to teach moral courage.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 10:46 AM | Permalink | Comment (1)

When I was a law professor, a student reported that I made an error in grading his exam by giving him too many points. He was right, and after thanking him for his honesty, I changed the grade in my records. His beaming face turned to shock. "You're lowering my grade?" he sputtered. "I never would have come in if . . ."

Several colleagues thought I should have let the higher grade stand because all I'd accomplished was to discourage him from being honest in the future. And every time I tell this story some people agree with this critique.

But I can't see how I could justify compounding my mistake in grading by undermining the integrity of all my grades by failing to correct an error. The grade itself would be a dishonest reflection of his knowledge and it would have been unfair to other students. How could I responsibly give a student a gift of an unearned grade?

I know voluntarily reporting an error in one's favor is unusual, but, like returning too much change, it's clearly the right thing to do. People of character, those with real integrity, hate to give up benefits as much as anyone else. The difference is that for them a good conscience and reputation is reward enough to justify the cost of doing the right thing.

Perhaps lowering the student's grade did discourage him from being honest in the future, but I think bribing him to be honest so that he only does the right thing when it's cost-free would have corrupted him even more. The duty to be honest is about right and wrong, not risks and rewards.

This is Michael Josephson reminding you that character counts.

Posted by Josephson Institute Editor at 11:14 AM | Permalink | Comment (16)