Before becoming president of the United States, Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) was
a respected lawyer in Illinois. One day a criminal came to him. ‘I
would like to ask you to defend me’, said the man. Lincoln, who had a
sneaking suspicion of the kind of person he was dealing with, replied
with the question: ‘Are you guilty?’ ‘Of course I’m guilty. That’s why I
want to hire you; to get me free.’ ‘If you admit guilt to me’,
Lincoln explained, ‘then I can’t defend you’. The man reacted with
amazement: ‘But you don’t understand. I’m offering you a
thousand dollars for your services!’ Although a thousand dollars was
a large sum of money at the time, Lincoln resolutely
refused.The criminal replied, ‘Mr Lincoln, I’ll offer you two thousand dollars if
you defend me!’ Again Lincoln refused. In desperation, the criminal played
his trump card: ‘Mr Lincoln, you’re the best lawyer in the area. I
can’t have travelled all this way for nothing. I’ll give you four thousand
dollars.’ At that moment Lincoln flew from his seat, grabbed the
man by his collar, dragged him out of the office and threw him into the
street. When the man had stood up and pulled his clothes straight, he
asked Lincoln: ‘Why did you throw me out when I offered four thousand
dollars? Why not for one or two thousand, or when I admitted guilt
in the first place?’ Lincoln replied: ‘You were nearing my price!’
Apparently Lincoln’s integrity had a price: he was ‘for sale’. For a certain price he was prepared to throw his principles overboard. The question is whether everyone has a price. In order to answer this question, as in the previous chapter, we should perhaps start by exploring our innate qualities.
Michael Lewis and colleagues researched the extent to which people have an innate ability to resist temptation. For this purpose he took children of three and five years of age as his subjects. Each time a child was led into a room and asked to go and sit at the table. The researcher then walked behind the child’s back to set up a large toy. He asked the child not to look around. They would be allowed to see the toy later. Having set up the toy, the researcher said that he needed to leave for a moment. On leaving he asked the child again not to look around. The child was now alone in the room and was exposed to the temptation of looking around. After a maximum of 5 minutes the researcher came back and asked the child whether he or she had looked.
38 percent of the three-year-olds said they had looked, even though this was not the agreement; quite a letdown. Lewis had, however, filmed the children when the researcher left the room. What did he discover? The footage showed indisputably that almost all the three-years-olds had looked. Only 10 percent had not. It turns out that most of the children who claimed not to have looked behind them were lying. Half of the children had therefore not only broken the agreement, but had also subsequently lied about it. What about the five-year-olds? They all denied looking behind them, while two-thirds had actually done so. So over time lying increases, though fortunately it seems so does the ability to resist temptation.
According to Lewis, lying begins with learning to speak. Of course the offense of looking around in the experiment and lying about it is pretty innocent in the scheme of things. No one was put at a disadvantage by it. It does, however, show that most people are unable to resist temptation by nature and that lying starts at an early age.
Lewis incidentally found that children with a high IQ lied more often. That does not bode well if it is people with a high IQ who hold positions of responsibility later in life. All the more so, since temptations also increase. At work there are countless temptations. It is quite a challenge to keep on the straight and narrow when major interests are at stake: that sorely needed contract that can only be won with a backhander, that fall in the share price that can only be avoided by slightly distorting the figures in the annual report, that mass lay-off that can only be prevented by temporarily skirting around environmental law, or the fiercely desired promotion that can only be achieved by sabotaging the other candidate.
The good thing about Lincoln was that he did not allow himself to be bribed. He knew his price and acted accordingly. When we know the price, which is established according to supply and demand, we can work out which situations we must avoid in order not to fall prey to temptation. If money burns a hole in your pocket, it would be wise not to take on a financial role. A reckless person would do best to avoid becoming a risk manager. Those with a tendency to lash out would do better to avoid stressful jobs. These are important matters. Because the same goes for both the economic market and the market of integrity: sold out is sold out.
The question is not so much whether people are honest, as how long and under what conditions, what temptations they can resist, and at what point they relinquish their integrity. As William Shakespeare put it, ‘For who so firm that cannot be seduced?’ Everybody has a price; the question is what that price is. Lincoln knew his price. Do you know yours? How much can you be bought for? And what is the price of people you depend on, or for whom you are responsible? How ‘price-elastic’ are they ?
Apparently Lincoln’s integrity had a price: he was ‘for sale’. For a certain price he was prepared to throw his principles overboard. The question is whether everyone has a price. In order to answer this question, as in the previous chapter, we should perhaps start by exploring our innate qualities.
Michael Lewis and colleagues researched the extent to which people have an innate ability to resist temptation. For this purpose he took children of three and five years of age as his subjects. Each time a child was led into a room and asked to go and sit at the table. The researcher then walked behind the child’s back to set up a large toy. He asked the child not to look around. They would be allowed to see the toy later. Having set up the toy, the researcher said that he needed to leave for a moment. On leaving he asked the child again not to look around. The child was now alone in the room and was exposed to the temptation of looking around. After a maximum of 5 minutes the researcher came back and asked the child whether he or she had looked.
38 percent of the three-year-olds said they had looked, even though this was not the agreement; quite a letdown. Lewis had, however, filmed the children when the researcher left the room. What did he discover? The footage showed indisputably that almost all the three-years-olds had looked. Only 10 percent had not. It turns out that most of the children who claimed not to have looked behind them were lying. Half of the children had therefore not only broken the agreement, but had also subsequently lied about it. What about the five-year-olds? They all denied looking behind them, while two-thirds had actually done so. So over time lying increases, though fortunately it seems so does the ability to resist temptation.
According to Lewis, lying begins with learning to speak. Of course the offense of looking around in the experiment and lying about it is pretty innocent in the scheme of things. No one was put at a disadvantage by it. It does, however, show that most people are unable to resist temptation by nature and that lying starts at an early age.
Lewis incidentally found that children with a high IQ lied more often. That does not bode well if it is people with a high IQ who hold positions of responsibility later in life. All the more so, since temptations also increase. At work there are countless temptations. It is quite a challenge to keep on the straight and narrow when major interests are at stake: that sorely needed contract that can only be won with a backhander, that fall in the share price that can only be avoided by slightly distorting the figures in the annual report, that mass lay-off that can only be prevented by temporarily skirting around environmental law, or the fiercely desired promotion that can only be achieved by sabotaging the other candidate.
The good thing about Lincoln was that he did not allow himself to be bribed. He knew his price and acted accordingly. When we know the price, which is established according to supply and demand, we can work out which situations we must avoid in order not to fall prey to temptation. If money burns a hole in your pocket, it would be wise not to take on a financial role. A reckless person would do best to avoid becoming a risk manager. Those with a tendency to lash out would do better to avoid stressful jobs. These are important matters. Because the same goes for both the economic market and the market of integrity: sold out is sold out.
The question is not so much whether people are honest, as how long and under what conditions, what temptations they can resist, and at what point they relinquish their integrity. As William Shakespeare put it, ‘For who so firm that cannot be seduced?’ Everybody has a price; the question is what that price is. Lincoln knew his price. Do you know yours? How much can you be bought for? And what is the price of people you depend on, or for whom you are responsible? How ‘price-elastic’ are they ?
(courtsey topcop)
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