It’s Not OK, Just Because Everybody Does It

The following anecdote—extracted from an article appearing in The Chicago Sun-Times— illustrates graphically what we are talking about. It’s powerful stuff, and it’s titled:

“It’s O.K. Son, Everybody Does It.”

When Johnny was six years old, he was with his father riding in his car and his father was pulled over for speeding. His father handed the officer a volunteer sheriff’s badge and a $100 bill for a donation, along with his driver’s license. As they drove off without a citation, the father told him: “It’s OK, son, everybody does it.”

When he was eight, he was at a family meeting presided over by Uncle George on the surest means to shave points off your income tax return. “It’s OK, kid,” his uncle said. “Everybody does it.” When he was nine, his mother took him to his first theater production. The person in the box office couldn’t find decent seats until his mother discovered an extra twenty dollars in her purse. “It’s OK, son,” she said, “everybody does it.

When he was eleven, his aunt helped him get an additional “free” pair of prescription eyeglasses by filing an insurance claim that his first pair had been lost or stolen. “It’s OK, Johnny,” his aunt said, “everybody does it.”

When he was fifteen, he made first-string right guard on the high school football team. His coach showed him how to block and, at the same time, grab the opposing end by the jersey so the officials couldn’t see it. “It’s OK, kid,” the coach said, “everybody does it.”

When he was sixteen, he took his first summer job at the supermarket. His assignment was to put the overripe strawberries in the bottom of the boxes and the good ones on top where they would show. “It’s OK, kid,” the manager said, “everybody does it.” When he was eighteen, Johnny and a friend applied for a college scholarship. Johnny was a marginal student. His buddy was in the upper three percent of his class, but he couldn’t play right guard. Johnny got the scholarship. “It’s OK, son,” his parents assured him. “Everybody does it.”

When he was nineteen, he was approached by an upperclassman who offered him the test answers for fifty dollars. “It’s OK, kid. Everybody does it.” Johnny was caught and sent home in disgrace. “How could you do this to your mother and me?” his father vented. “You never learned anything like this at home.” His aunt and uncle were also shocked. If there’s one thing the adult world can’t stand, it’s a kid who cheats.

That message has the same impact as Harry Chapin’s classic song, “The Cat’s in the Cradle,” which ends with the poignant lines: “And when I hung up the phone it occurred to me, my son was just like me. Yeah. He grew up just like me.”

If I were writing a single commandment for leadership, it would be: “You shall conduct yourself in such a manner as to set an example worthy of imitation by your children and subordinates.” In simpler terms, if they shouldn’t be doing it, neither should you.

When I told my kids to clean their rooms, for example, they took a closer look at the condition of my tools and possessions in the garage. When I told them that honesty was our family’s greatest virtue, they commented on the radar detector I had installed in my car. When I told them about the vices of drinking and wild parties, they watched from the upstairs balcony the way our guests behaved at our adult functions.

It’s hardly a secret that learning ethical standards begins at home. A child’s first inklings of a sense of right and wrong come from almost imperceptible signals received long before he or she reaches the age of rational thought about morality. Maybe you’re asking yourself what kind of model you are for future generations, remembering that people are either honest or dishonest, that integrity is all or nothing, and that children can’t be fooled in such basic matters. They learn by example.

I’d rather watch a winner than hear one any day. So please, my loving parents, let your lives show me the way. I’m only a reflection of what you taught today.

I may misunderstand you and the high advice you give, But there’s no misunderstanding about how you act and how you live. So teach me by example, don’t preach about what’s right, and show me by your actions every day and night.

I know that you’re not perfect in the things you do and say And the lectures you deliver are to help me find my way. But I’d rather watch a winner than hear one any day.

Questions: If everyone in your family, team, or organization had your integrity, what kind of family, team, or organization would it be? What do you think about expecting leaders to be honest in their personal lives, as well as in their professional positions? Is there a difference?

Action: Before you share something you read on the Internet, check the source to determine if it is “authentic from a reputable source” or “an opinion or infomercial for a product, service, or political belief.”