Five Simple Ethics Lessons from NYT’s Kwame Anthony Appiah

“Advice on life’s trickiest situations and moral dilemmas.”

That’s the promise made by New York Times’ ethicist Kwame Anthony Appiah. I have found his columns immeasurably interesting and packed with ethical dilemmas ranging from “what do I do now that I’ve hidden my trust fund from my wife for 15 years” to “can people claim spots on the beach with empty chairs” to “does my fiancée love me or does he just want citizenship?”

Thanks to Appiah, I’m becoming wise enough to know that while my advice to others is well-intentioned, it may not always be helpful or even all that ethical. Here are five lessons I’ve learned by reading his columns:

Lesson #1: There are no one-size-fits-all solutions
Ethical dilemmas are rarely black and white. What’s right in one situation may not be in another. The columns remind me that ethics is a nuanced field, one with shades of grey. Solutions must be tailored to individual circumstances. Doing so prevents us from adopting a rigid moral framework and encourages us to consider the context and consequences before making decisions.

Lesson #2: Empathy is key
By putting myself in the shoes of those affected by my choices, I develop a deeper, more nuanced understanding of how my choices impact others. This helps me recognize the interconnectedness of human experiences, encouraging me to consider not just my immediate interests, but also the well-being of others who may be impacted by my decisions.

Lesson #3: Balance principles with real-world constraints
The Ethicist columns show that while our ethical values are important, so is our ability to compromise.

Lesson #4: Seek guidance and diverse perspectives
Reading, discussing options and seeking feedback from can expand our understanding and help us see things we might otherwise miss.

Lesson #5 Continually learn and adapt
Ethical thinking is not static; it evolves over time as societal norms change and our understanding of complex issues deepens. It also changes as we age. That’s one reason the Ethicist columns underscore the importance of continuous learning and adaptation based on current events and ongoing self-reflection.

The NYT’s Ethicist columns serve as a guiding light for me. Perhaps they will for you as well.

What’s Your Reason for Getting Up in the Morning?

When I was a young kid, my reason for getting up was to play with my four younger sisters. Then in my tweens and teens, it was to hang out with my friends. In college, it was to get to my classes; in my early 20s, it was to get to work.

Then, in my early 40s, after the untimely deaths of my parents–my dad after a year-long battle with cancer, my mom in an instant after a stroke—it was to distract myself from my grief. Every morning I woke up, got dressed and walked to my neighborhood coffee shop where I followed Julia Cameron’s advice from The Artist’s Way and wrote morning pages. Doing so was definitely my lifeline, one thing I could control and a way of coming to terms with my grief and guilt, as well as my fears.

Eighteen months later, once my grief had ebbed, work once again became my reason for getting up. Somedays I was so driven to get started that I turned on my computer on my way to the bathroom.

But now that I no longer work full-time, I’ve been pondering my reason for getting up. Pre-pandemic it might have been to attend a board meeting, enjoy a cup of coffee with a friend or, pre-hip pain, walk the Stone Arch bridge across the Mississippi—all activities that connected me to others and the world in which we live.

Now, my reasons rarely involve connecting with others or the outside world, especially because COVID means doing it in front of a screen rather than in person. It’s hard to get excited about more screen time. As a result, getting up can sometimes be the most challenging part of my day.

That’s why, while writing my recent Aging with Gusto post, I was excited to discover the concept of ikigai (ee-kee-gahy). According to the authors of the book Ikigai: The Japanese Secret to a Long and Happy Life, ikigai is a Japanese concept that combines the terms iki, meaning “alive” or “life,” and gai, meaning “benefit” or “worth.” When combined, the term means “that which gives your life purpose, meaning or worth.”

Minnesotan Dan Buettner talks a lot about purpose in his book, The Blue Zones of Happiness: Lessons From the World’s Happiest People. So does fellow Minnesotan Richard Leider whose newest book is Who Do You Want to Be When You Grow Old?: The Path of Purposeful Aging.

While I’ve been tempted to pooh-pooh the power of purpose, data shows that having one can make a difference, not only to the quality of our lives, but also their length.

So, now that I’m of a certain age (only six years away from the age both my parents were when they died, I’ve become determined to do all I can to extend not only the length of my life but also the quality of it.  

That’s meant turning inward by once again writing morning pages. At first, they were filled with recriminations, accusations, reprimands and wouldas, couldas and shouldas, all of which undermined my ability to identify—and perhaps more importantly—fulfill my purpose.

But slowly, over the past 18 months, my pages have begun to fill with more positive thoughts (the sun shining on the bright white snow is beautiful) and simple delights (this cup of coffee tastes great). And while COVID is still interfering with many of my hopes and dreams, I am—morning by morning and page by page—finding new reasons to get up each day.

Mermaid Slippers and Princesses

What kind of jokes do six-year-olds tell? Do they wake up at five thirty and tumble down the stairs with the cat to ask if grandma is ready to watch morning cartoons? And what cartoons would they watch?

Our annual summer vacation with our granddaughter just finished. The lilac mermaid slippers left behind by a five-year-old didn’t fit the tall seven-and-a half-year-old girl who searched for a heavy, snuggly blanket while ignoring her old favorite princess cover. Her Frozen cup looked small in the hands that now write stories, multiply numbers, turn pages in a chapter book. She reads to us, no longer sounding out as many words, instead adding emotional emphasis to characters. 

In a mostly rainy week, there was one beach day when we watched her patiently teach two very young children how to use a squirt gun and return a dead minnow to the water. She learned with great enthusiasm how to play old video games. She and her mom made craft projects. And we watched a different set of morning programs cast with early teens as well as an Australian cartoon about a family of dogs. She made the dinner salad one meal. What mattered was that we were together around the clock as a family. Creative as we tried to be last year, this experience had been lost.

Far greater losses were experienced during the pandemic lockdown. Far greater losses are being experienced now as the pandemic continues. It is not over. People are falling ill. Fewer people are dying, a small comfort to those who do lose a loved one. With an unvaccinated child in the mix, we returned to considering when to mask, where to eat out, avoiding crowds. She is the last in our family to walk unprotected in open communities. It is scary to know our kids are still at risk. It is hard to not be disappointed in the adults who contribute to Covid’s continued spread in our country.

I’m not sure how I could convince an unvaccinated person to take the jab. For me it was a mix of trusting science, hope that the virus would be slowed, and feeling responsible for contributing to the safety of our country. But I didn’t have to balance concerns of caring for a family if I got ill from the vaccine or missing work. Maybe neighbors are part of the next push to increase the vaccinated numbers. The wearers of mermaid slippers are our future. Let’s keep them healthy and safe.

Family vacation puppet show 2021