Ethics in a time of COVID-19

Rest assured that although I open this column with a quote from the New Testament, what follows is not a sermon.

In his first letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, “All things are lawful for me, but not all things are helpful.” My purpose here is not to engage in textual analysis (that is beyond my ken), but the apostle seems to be saying that even though something is permissible, it’s not necessarily a good idea.

Several recent events brought that to mind. The first is a lawsuit filed by the National Apartment Association last fall that seeks to void the nationwide eviction moratorium announced by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Other, similar lawsuits have been filed by other landlord associations, all of them contesting the notion that landlords have no legal power to evict tenants during the coronavirus pandemic.

Do they have a point? Yes, they probably do, and at least one judge has agreed. But, really? Does a group of presumably at least somewhat-affluent property owners want to press its legal right to evict generally less-prosperous tenants in the throes of an international health crisis?

I don’t doubt that some landlords are feeling a financial pinch, but wouldn’t that be an occasion to negotiate directly with tenants to find a mutually acceptable solution rather than resorting immediately to legal redress in the teeth of a pandemic?

That may be lawful, to use Paul’s words, but it’s hardly helpful. Or ethical.

The Encyclopedia Britannica defines ethics as “the discipline concerned with what is morally good and bad and morally right and wrong.”

Another example of legal overreach: Religious groups around the country, especially evangelical megachurches, have sued to be able to open their doors to public worship, typically without regard to masks or social distancing. (These gatherings generally feature a lot of congregational singing, one of the most effective ways to spread a virus.) These religious organizations have argued that any restrictions represent an infringement on religious freedom, which is protected under the First Amendment. In November, the Supreme Court agreed.

Having recently published a second book on the topic, I yield to no one in my regard for the First Amendment. The separation of church and state may be America’s best idea, and religious freedom is a precious right. But just because it’s legal to resume religious gatherings, is that really a good idea? Is it ethical? Let’s dive a bit deeper into this example. The vast majority of religious organizations in this country (if not all) enjoy tax-exempt status, which means they pay no income or property taxes. I’m not challenging that for the moment; the founders certainly recognized the value of voluntary associations and sought to encourage them. But that circumstance means other taxpayers must make up the difference for everything from national parks and defense spending to police protection and municipal services. Tax exemption, therefore, is a form of public subsidy.

If a fire breaks out in a synagogue or a megachurch, the fire department responds even though those institutions do not pay for the services. The general public pays for those services, thereby providing a subsidy for religious organizations. Furthermore, taking large parcels of land off the tax rolls — for a new megachurch, for example, with acres of parking — further diminishes revenue for local jurisdictions. Taxpayers make up the difference.

You might think given these circumstances, especially during a pandemic, that the local pastor or imam or rabbi might defer to the public good rather than stand on legal principle. What if she or he said something like this? “Listen, we really would like to resume our religious gatherings, and we’re confident of our legal right to do so. But in recognition of the fact that the public has been subsidizing our institution for years, even decades, we choose to stand down. Rather than assert our rights, we will act in the best interests of the community.”

To paraphrase Paul even further, the law says one thing, while common sense and a posture of gratitude and deference to the larger good calls for another.

Nobody likes a moralist, and please understand that my tut-tutting is directed at myself as much as it is toward others. But it strikes me that ethical behavior, which transcends mere legality, is especially crucial in times of social upheaval.

As someone said, you can take the true measure of a person by watching what she does when she thinks no one is watching.

Another way of framing this issue, I suppose, is whether we should define our behavior, whether as institutions or as individuals, by what we can get away with, or should we do what is right? This applies to organizations but also on a personal level, where it pertains to everything from stop signs and income taxes to simply speaking the truth.

Jumping the line for the COVID-19 vaccine, to take another example, may not land you in a prison jumpsuit. But is it right?

Integrity, which entails self-directed moral behavior, is more important now than ever.