by Rushworth M. Kidder
They fell like dominos last week, three in a row:
- On Monday, a German court convicted a former manager at Siemens, Reinhard Siekaczek, of operating slush funds within that massive electronics and engineering firm to pay bribes around the world.
- On Tuesday, Alaskan senator Ted Stevens, the most senior U.S. Senate Republican in history, was indicted for filing false financial disclosures that hid an estimated $250,000 he received from an Alaska-based company that included a remodeling of his vacation home.
- On Wednesday, Ehud Olmert announced that he would resign as prime minister of Israel amid suspicions that he took bribes from a Long Island philanthropist and collected multiple reimbursements for individual airline flights.
Two of these three must be presumed innocent unless courts find otherwise. So the issue is not so much with the people as with the common theme of corruption. Alaska alone, in fact, could provide enough corruption cases to round out the rest of this column. So could Siemens, which is expected to file charges this week against its former CEO and its former chairman — two of some 300 current and former employees under suspicion in a bribery scheme worth an estimated $2 billion. In Mr. Olmert’s case, the tentacles may spread well beyond Israel, with serious ramifications for the Middle East peace process.
So the real question is not, Who’s the latest bad guy? If that were all, this publication could simply become a police blotter, tut-tutting each week over global miscreants. Nor is the question, How big is global corruption? Estimates from the World Bank put it at trillions of dollars annually. Nor is it even, How important is it? An ongoing poll on our website ranks corruption at the top of nine tough challenges facing our global future.
No, the real question is, So what? Corruption is so big, pervasive, and timeless that it’s tempting to shrug it off as messy, inevitable, and intractable. Or even brazen: When lawmakers in Juneau recently came under fire for corruption, some of them reportedly donned “C.B.C.” baseball caps, standing for “Corrupt Bastards Club.”
So I was intrigued when, in a conference call last week with some U.S. school superintendents, the “So what?” question arose. They’re seeking to bring ethics into the classroom — since, as one said, “every kid who leaves school is going to be faced with ethical decisions.” But they’re up against skepticism. They need persuasive arguments to prove that ethics matters — using examples, they said, drawn from politics, current events, and cases like Enron.
That’s why last week’s news was so useful. Siekaczek, Stevens, and Olmert remind us that corruption involves the hubris and selfishness of power. It requires subterfuge and lack of transparency. It poisons the atmosphere of trust, making cynics of the citizenry. It rides roughshod over honest competitors in business or politics who refuse to bribe. It creates the illusion of a decently refereed playing field while biasing every call. In other words, it attacks the moral roots of free, fair, and open democracies, rendering them exclusive, deceitful, and opaque.
Corruption, then, may be the most insidious challenge on the planet. Samuel Johnson once defined courage as “the greatest of all virtues; because, unless a man has that virtue, he has no security for preserving any other.” Perhaps Johnson would agree also that corruption is the greatest of all anti-virtues, because unless our leaders avoid it, they have no security in resolving our toughest global threats. For Siekaczek, Stevens, and Olmert to lose their careers would be unfortunate, but for the world to suffer a void of moral leadership in global engineering, governance, and diplomacy would be devastating — a terrible price to pay in return for what, in the end, may be no more than a few contracts in Munich, airfares in Israel, or home repairs in Alaska.
©2008 Institute for Global Ethics

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