The (Honest) Truth About Dishonesty

The good news is that once we understand how our dishonesty increases when we are one or more steps removed from money, we can try to clarify and emphasize the links between our actions and the people they can affect. At the same time, we can try to shorten the distance between our actions and the money in question. By taking such steps, we can become more cognizant of the consequences of our actions and, with that awareness, increase our honesty.

LESSONS FROM LOCKSMITHS

Not too long ago, one of my students named Peter told me a story that captures our misguided efforts to decrease dishonesty rather nicely.

One day, Peter locked himself out of his house, so he called around to find a locksmith. It took him a while to find one who was certified by the city to unlock doors. The locksmith finally pulled up in his truck and picked the lock in about a minute.

“I was amazed at how quickly and easily this guy was able to open the door,” Peter told me. Then he passed on a little lesson in morality he learned from the locksmith that day.

In response to Peter’s amazement, the locksmith told Peter that locks are on doors only to keep honest people honest. “One percent of people will always be honest and never steal,” the locksmith said. “Another one percent will always be dishonest and always try to pick your lock and steal your television. And the rest will be honest as long as the conditions are right—but if they are tempted enough, they’ll be dishonest too. Locks won’t protect you from the thieves, who can get in your house if they really want to. They will only protect you from the mostly honest people who might be tempted to try your door if it had no lock.”

After reflecting on these observations, I came away thinking that the locksmith was probably right. It’s not that 98 percent of people are immoral or will cheat anytime the opportunity arises; it’s more likely that most of us need little reminders to keep ourselves on the right path.

How to Get People to Cheat Less

Now that we had figured out how the fudge factor works and how to expand it, as our next step we wanted to figure out whether we could decrease the fudge factor and get people to cheat less. This idea, too, was spawned by a little joke:

A visibly upset man goes to see his rabbi one day and says, “Rabbi, you won’t believe what happened to me! Last week, someone stole my bicycle from synagogue!”

The rabbi is deeply upset by this, but after thinking for a moment, he offers a solution: “Next week come to services, sit in the front row, and when we recite the Ten Commandments, turn around and look at the people behind you. And when we get to ‘Thou shalt not steal,’ see who can’t look you in the eyes and that’s your guy.” The rabbi is very pleased with his suggestion, and so is the man.

At the next service, the rabbi is very curious to learn whether his advice panned out. He waits for the man by the doors of the synagogue, and asks him, “So, did it work?”

“Like a charm,” the man answers. “The moment we got to ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery,’ I remembered where I left my bike.”

What this little joke suggests is that our memory and awareness of moral codes (such as the Ten Commandments) might have an effect on how we view our own behavior.