Copyright 2000 the New York Times Company

“The Ethicist”

Copyright 2000 The New York Times Company

(1) April 23, 2000, Sunday, Late Edition - Final

From “The Way We Live Now, Caveat Emptor,” by “The Ethicist,” Randy Cohen
[Dear Ethicist:] I frequently carry a can of soda or a package of snacks into the movie theater. Does the theater have the right to insist on "no outside food"? --
Margaret O'Hora, Albany
Yes, as transgressions go, yours is minor, but it is a transgression. The upright act is to obey the rules; going to the movies is strictly voluntary, and from the theater's point of view, when you buy a ticket, you accept its strictures. By smuggling in food, you break your agreement and hence behave unethically. Theaters also claim to price their tickets on the assumption that they'll be making some profit at the concession stand. From the customer's point of view, however, there is no choice in the matter: take it or leave it. (And stay home and watch TV.) Furthermore, even if Milk Duds profits run high, the movie theater isn't going to lower its prices. So the temptation to save money is understandable, but it ought to be resisted.
One thing I would add: if you come to the theater with popcorn stuffed inside your shirt, you should not offer any to your neighbors.

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March 11, 2001, Sunday, Late Edition - Final

From “The Way We Live Now, Mea Culpa,” by “The Ethicist,” Randy Cohen
It is only ethical that the ethicist acknowledge when he has got something wrong. In the two years that I've been writing this column, I have sometimes come, on further consideration, to amend my position on a question, but seldom have I concluded that my response was utterly erroneous. Seldom, but not never. . . .

In April 2000, I ruled against sneaking outside food into the movies, arguing that attending a movie is voluntary: when you choose to do so, you willingly agree to obey the theater's rules.
I've come to see this differently. If all I had to do was write, "Always follow the rules; never lie," my job would be easy, and I'd be more popular; most readers applaud such advice. A monkey could do the work. (Maybe not a little monkey, like a rhesus monkey. It would have to be one of those big, smart monkeys -- an ape, maybe a chimp -- but it could be done.) But I would not be urging ethical behavior; I would be demanding docility. And while civility requires that nearly all of us follow the rules nearly all of the time, it does not mean that we should not think critically for ourselves: there are unworthy rules that you may break without being dishonorable.
A valid ethical precept must work not just for one particular case but also for all similar situations. In the months after publishing my response, I received other questions about obeying the rules once you have chosen to put yourself in various situations -- on an airplane, in a college dining hall, at Disneyland -- and I came to see that participating in a voluntary pleasure (if airline travel can be considered a pleasure) does not mean that you have agreed to all of its rules.
For an agreement to be meaningful, it must be entered into freely by both parties, hardly the case when a theater owner stamps a list of rules on the back of a ticket. Rules ought to be reasonable. And there is a difference between the rules imposed only through the authority of private property and the laws devised by a democratic society, which at least strive for the consent of the governed and are nominally under the control of their representatives. The latter have more legitimacy than the former.
Folks should patronize the concession stand not because the theater employs armed guards and candy-sniffing dogs to thwart snack smugglers but because they choose to, because it offers food they enjoy at prices they deem reasonable -- in short, because they crave that gallon canister of cola. Commerce, too, should be freely entered into. And if fewer purchases at the concession stand means a theater has to raise ticket prices, so be it. That is also a part of commerce. So I believe you may take outside food to the theater.
I would set just this condition: you ought not contravene the ostensible function of a business: e.g. no smuggling liquor into a bar or cake into a pastry shop. It can be reasonably asserted that when you go to a restaurant, you agree to buy its food; that is an agreement you did make. But you go to the movies for the movie, not for the $25 popcorn. And there is a middle way between the temptation of smuggled snacks and the financial penance of concession food: go 90 minutes without eating. Many people do so every week in church.

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(2) November 26, 2000, Sunday, Late Edition – Final

From “The Way We Live Now, Open Courts for All,” by “The Ethicist,” Randy Cohen

[Dear Ethicist:] My husband and I will soon put our house on the market. It is a beautiful house in a great neighborhood, but the builder cut some corners on the construction. Should I tell all? My husband says to let the buyer's [inspection] engineer determine what needs to be done, but I'm afraid he'll miss some things. What do you think? -- T.C., Long Island, N.Y.
I'm with your husband. There is a built-in conflict of interest between seller and buyer: the former wants to get the highest price; the latter wants the lowest. The solution is for both parties to adhere to the standards of behavior that customarily govern such transactions. That means you must honestly answer any question put to you, and you may not conceal any flaws, but the buyer should not rely on you to volunteer every defect in the house. It is the buyer's responsibility to have a good engineer check out the place. In short: caveat emptor.
The more important consideration is what you do before the sale, not after. But if you spring a list of shortcomings on the buyers two minutes after the closing, they may not be as grateful as you anticipate. Even though unspoken, the word "sucker" might echo through the inadequately insulated bathroom beneath the leaky roof.

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March 11, 2001, Sunday, Late Edition – Final

From “The Way We Live Now, Mea Culpa,” by “The Ethicist,” Randy Cohen

Originally, last November, I sided with the husband. I said that the seller should answer all questions honestly and should not conceal any flaws but that he need not volunteer every defect in the house. Common practice makes it the buyer's responsibility to have a good engineer check out the place.
Alas, I was wrong on the law and lax on the ethics.
Several lawyers wrote to tell me that while statutes vary from place to place, many jurisdictions impose an affirmative obligation to disclose the defects in a house, particularly the sort of problem that could not be discovered even by a capable inspection -- for instance, a basement that looks dry to a house-hunter in July but floods each November.
Why did I miss this? As Dr. Johnson said when asked why in his great dictionary he defined pastern as the knee of a horse, "Ignorance, Madam, pure ignorance."
But even if the law did not require such positive actions, ethics does. While there is a distinction between passive silence and active deceit, to withhold important facts about the house is hardly honorable.
In the buyer's place, surely you would want a candid account of the property. The seller should tell all and accept a fair price. And I should have set a higher ethical standard. I'll try to do so as I begin the third year of The Ethicist.