Business and Ethics

Knight of SwordsMy piece To Potential Business Clients elicited some nice responses, and even got me a new client from out of the blue. Isn’t it odd how so many businesses try to play up the image game, with all their sayings and promises that everyone else already knows are largely vacuous? The even stranger thing is, when businesses decide they don’t want to play this game, and instead be completely honest, they have no clue how to go about being honest and straight-forward.

Businesses reflect the people who shape and direct them, and to a lesser degree, the employees and contractors who represent them. If a person is more conscience of their image than their substance, this is what the business will be. If the person is accustomed to maneuvering and making excuses for bad things, this is what the business will be. If the person is honest with all their strengths and their shortcomings, this is what the business will be. Judging by the responses I received, the latter is what people prefer.

When you misrepresent yourself, you participate in willful manipulation. As a rule, people do not appreciate being manipulated. People do not appreciate it when someone seeks to control their perception. In fact, it is an act of evil. It is an act of evil because the person with the access to truth seeks to hide and alter that truth into something else that plays toward their own benefit. And doing this removes any potential for choice that another person might have, replacing that choice with the will of the deceiver. People rarely think this through, but it is why people do not like misrepresentation. We posses an innate instinct about being wronged in this way. Yet most of us are perfectly comfortable taking choices away from others like this. We want to look good, even when we know that we are not.

This presents a large problem for businesses, since the majority of people themselves never truly are who they seem to be. With this, how can any business be considered trust worthy? How can you know for certain if they truly care about anything other than what they want? Of course, they will tell you that you, the customer, are their top priority, and that they are trustworthy. But when your access to knowledge and truth is also controlled by them, what is the reality of who they are? And how will this effect you?

Businesses will rationalize as well, just like people, any of their wrongdoings. For example, it’s okay to manipulate these people with the truth hidden, because really, we are good, and they will be better off with us, even though we are not who we appear to be. In this, they absolve themselves by changing their act of evil into an act of good, performed upon those people within their control. In other words, by removing another’s awareness and choice, and causing them to do what you want, you have done them a favor.

If a business realizes they are committing this evil, the next level of rationalization is to reassure themselves that it is not, actually, an act of evil because everyone else is doing the same thing to others. In other words, an act of evil is not evil if a lot of people are doing it.

And finally, if the person or business is discovered in their deception, the retreat is most often to hostility and anger that is projected instead upon the client, rather than themselves. That is, the last refuge of the liar is hostility toward those to whom he lies. It is either this, or a sudden and utter disregard for their victims, so that they might carry on their own business as usual.

It’s a fascinating exploration between business and human personality. So often we hear that business must be kept separate from the personal, but as we see, they are already intimately intertwined at the most fundamental level. And this is the challenge businesses face as they present themselves to the world: how can they appear trustworthy, dependable, and even at all good, when the people shaping the business bring so much of their own personalities along them?

The answer is simple. Appearance does not matter. The people themselves who shape the business must confront the very issues of their own character for the sake of their business. These factors are also mutually reinforcing. Those who, in their personal life, subscribe to deception, will find it increasingly easy to justify further deception in their lives, and out into the realm of their customers. The converse is also true, those who are willing and curageous enough to represent themselves truly, standing upright beside their purported ideals, will find their personal life far more attuned to the more honorable and noble. And this will improve not only their own life, but also set a potent example of what is possible to others.

Sales is the slippery slope. These are the purported masters of representation and human influence. Few professions have so many people who are utter shams or despots, yet walk and talk the good line. Guns for hire, with all the throw-away benefits, and all the dangers of backstabbing in the night. Their purpose is the influence of people and businesses send them out in droves, with only the thinnest ropes. If they perform well at what they do, their influence grows within the business, until such time that appearances are the driving force instead, at the very least on par with real products or services. This point is the second ethical milestone a business reaches, and it is very much like the first.

I love watching businesses come together, take off and grow. It truly is people flying only by the seats of their pants, and it’s a joy. You see so many different struggles met and matched, along with a share of bloody noses and defeats. But it is the good fight I like. The just and honorable cause. And best of all, the vision of something truly greater for us all. These are beyond the ken of most business people. This is because they become trapped, struggling more against themselves and their self-made failings than building something truly wonderful. When you are out for the true betterment of others, any deception is anathema. They will forever fall short, even if they happen to become monetarily successful. And that is a sad story.

So to you business people who believe you are true, look deeply and honestly at yourself. If you can still say that you are, look at the other people and forces in your life, and what they cause you to do. Do they cause you to lie or waste resources? Do they encourage you compromise unwisely? Do they challenge you to become more, or cause you to sink into being less? Do you feel good and fulfilled by your endeavor? Or do you find reasons and make excuses? Can you lie with dignity, honor and conviction? Or do you face your challenges head-on, whole, and become more?

Each step reinforces us, one way or another. Yet still, it is never too late. And if I ever meet you out there in the wild, I would be honored to be at your side, fighting the good fight.

Splitting Wood

i.

I am tired of speaking
to the cleft whose head
points down to stars
as if stones were light
to be picked up, thrown
landing as they must in
that dome which contains me

A caricature drawn of itself
written of its own bones, dust
etched on a stone wall in shapes
whose colors dim to discovery

It is the language of surfaces
that smears the fullness of truth
the ox, the spear, the feigned lunge
and the secrets of the failed hunt

It is the language of rudiments
bent plastic magnets stuck on
the ice box in a disarray of letters
colored wildly as habit denies it

And all this grown to clockwork
where gears drive the hand back
in an empty circle that does not
know beginnings from any end

The left side cleft straight in purpose
while the right staggers at the gap
and in the middle, nothing but empty
distances wanting to be worked like stone

So I will mend this with a lie, for now
I have become a shape frozen in rock:
how true the left half stamps forward
fixed solidly on stars beneath its feet

For that dome, cleft in war, not hunts,
shakes its parts like a formed rattle
bawling to see the deep void of space
which already sliced through half unseen.

I am tired of speaking at nothingness
rigged with bent wire into pinwheels
that flutter like meaning in blown air,
up through the cleft that severs thought
into the left flowering empty in designs
while the right flooded by all that falls
prays tomorrow might arrive whole

As Pharisees wrapping a God in law
who made squirrels that leap random,
and the night where rote soothed little
out past the chill of air on clear glass

Here is the second lie; a formula
to embrace like it must know you
locked in measurements as desired
subdued to your own reflection
that happily commits perfect contours

The slow drain of water past the cleft;
I see you now on gray rock surrounded
pulling down all that rises in panic:
dimensions surrounded by wildflowers
whose tiny colors pierce gray rock
in that multitude, on the right behind

This was the hour that called for
the great fall past the cleft of lies
that comforts your face each morning
packed on, in the perfect mirror
where no thing outside the frame
touches what falls beneath your feet

The small frame hanging on the wall
transfixed in tight record, of how
the same might be arranged into more
without needing that frightful step
away from the face that lingers on
staring fixed so frightfully cool

ii.

Yes, I have seen what little is seen
indulging circles always turned within
where the snake eating from its own tail
eventually sees itself eye to mouth

They are old stories larger than equations taught
by wrote chanting flicked beads madly to and fro

iii.

This is why:
You are everything that I can ever be
far outside the mirror
in the lake, deep with blue
a sky touching smooth surfaces
the wet mud bed below
with strange fish swimming

And that face fixed in traps
cleft down to the bottom gate
shattered out the top
looking like photographs
posed in black and white

Manipulator of perception
where truth is imagined
to close a deal with oneself
simply to appear what isn't

Unaware each shadow kills
what is most important

iv.

Poor me. No, poor me.
Yes, poor me. Poor me. Oh,
poor me. Poor. No. Me. Me.
Poor me.

v.

Clink. I insert card 89. Revv
Tink! In the gear turn seven
rooound... yes!

click clock, click clock,
click clock...

vi.

Of course it's me
how could it be
anyone different

I built this
as it was meant
to be me

Not like some
wildflower weed
sprouting unforeseen
like it might

But rather me
as I truly am
when I say so
and not seem

And yes I am
perfectly aware
when I lie

You think that
says something
different about
who am I?

vii.

When everyone says the same thing
I wander through the tall trees
draped with wet moss in between
all that will never be said unseen

Through fungus on the crackled sticks
flickers of light passing through boughs
and the scent that raises up fresh heights
across a face lifted in the space of thick growth

And these little square machines picking cubes
from thin air to shine like adornments
a toaster dressed to please the fridge
or the oven to show the stove who's who

Ask me, whose bare feet are wet from walking
on the cold, slimy rocks of the fast, deep creek
to fold my limbs up in the shape of geometry
just to please a box whose metal fears to breathe?

Alright, for a time in the interests of wading
through echoes off flat walls that only repeat
what almost always is never true yet somehow
needing what I cannot bring to wholly undo

That is up to you my friend, to find your legs
anew. A cup. A mirror. A shattered chest, with
pounds and pounds of glue. A twig, caught
in my sleeve. Or here, a handful of moss
I saved for you still damp in my front pocket

I saved it for you, this clod of earth,
to hand you in the mirror. I know
it is not much considering but it is
everything deserved

Find me amidst the trees some day
when the lines within you fall,
or the mirror fades to just a dream
where the rest of us might go

I'll show you bugs beneath the stones
while lilies float in view and paths
through densely nettled walls
to clearings known to few – centipedes
with a million legs, visiting blue jays,
the rap-tap message of woodpeckers
passed through the towering trees
on the great sphere that binds you

Hurling through the deepest cleft
a unison of all halves merged
our little dreams as wide as night
that bursts like rain from clouds