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 Sometimes situations occur in our lives which are
so fiendishly complicated that it is difficult if not impossible to see
our way to a clear path of moral superiority. As a case in point, take
the following situation which has recently presented itself to a fictional
character very much like the Dowbrigade.
As regular readers will remember, the Dowbrigade’s eldest
son is currently attempting to convert a pristine piece of land alongside
a small river in the Peruvian Andes into an adventure
tourism hostal. In
the manner of head-strong firstborn sons
throughout the ages he has chosen to follow the path not taken by his
Dad. Eschewing higher education, he has clearly surpassed his old man
in his affinity for native Americans, and has, in effect, gone completely
native.
He is finding the reality more problematic than the
dream. Even after almost three years in their midst, the Indians haven’t
exactly opened their hearts and homes to the new Gringo. Gringos come
and go, but they have been there for a thousand years. Last month, while
our son and his girlfriend and her daughter were in the small town
two miles down the mountain on a Sunday, help’s day off, when the empty
hotel-in-progress was robbed of all things of portable value: sound system,
laptop, TV. The neighbors knew nothing.
They desperately need money, to finish the construction
and replace the stolen stuff. We are determined to help by sending customers
rather than handouts (see sidebar ad this page). This weekend, appropriately
enough, the girlfriend is in
labor which what is purported to be the Dowbrigade’s first grandchild.
But the fiduciary arrangements between Dowbrigade
father and son is not the complicated part of the equation. It seems
that back in ’03, after graduating from high school and working a year
as a teacher’s aide, when son in question decided to try his luck in
South America, he closed his Fleet Bank checking account, but didn’t
realize he had $5.68 in his saving.
Fleet was acquired by Bank of America, and rather than
close the account for accumulated fees or inactivity, perhaps in anticipation
of lucrative future earnings, Bank of America kept the account open.
We still get the statements, three years later. And then, last week,
they sent him a credit card.
Never having had one before, and having spent the past
three years in Peru, he has an unblemished credit record. The card is
from a major credit card company, which is gladly accepted all over Peru.
He could use it to finish the construction and buy the things they need
for the new baby. The card is in his name, he is a full-grown adult at
24, and our legal obligation is to forward it to him as soon as possible.
And yet, in doing so we know in our heart we would
be aiding and abetting our eldest son in committing inadvertent international
credit card fraud. We know that despite the best of intentions, he has
absolutely no way to to even begin to pay the bills. We would be
protecting his credit history for a possible future re-entry into the
first-world economy. not to mention our own potential liability.
On the other hand, if the Bank of America is willing
to issue a card on an account with $5.68 in it an no activity for over
three years, who are we to argue with their wisdom. On the other other
hand, knowing that he will probably not be able to pay off any charges,
we could be considered liable ourself if we forward him the
card. We know we’re running out of hands, but on the other other other
hand, isn’t burning through your first credit card a necessary lesson
in fiscal responsibility, and an American rite of passage?
As readers can appreciate, a thorny moral can of worms
to sort out. What would the modern ethicist say? For now, we have
chosen a cyber-Solomonic solution. Every time we ask our son if, on his
trips down the mountain and into town, he checks the Dowbrigade News
to see what his old man is up to, he answers in the affirmative. If he
does, and he reads this, and asks for the card, we will send it. If
not, what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him. Fair or square?
Villa Maria web site
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Had you met my colleague at the dumpster as you had promised last Friday you would have more than enough funds to send your son. Perhaps he might consider moving to our country. We could use some eco-resorts there.
How can he read the dowbrigade with his computer stolen. Your logic too is hard to decipher
Although he did have a computer, and will soon have another, there is no land line telephone service up the mountain, so he had no dialup service, let alone broadband. The nearby town of Carhuaz, however, does have 3 or 4 cyber cafes, where he checks his email and web surfs.