Let’s Talk: Moral Dilemmas and How We Face Them

By Dr. Nancy Fishman / Morgan Hill, Calif.

On a recent trail walk with a dear friend and neighbor, I could feel her anguish as she teared up over the August school shooting in Minnesota. She had been a student and later a school counselor in Catholic schools, so this latest horrific tragedy hit close to home for her.

Naturally, we drifted into a discussion on the political culture that has stymied progress on gun control and has not offered any real solutions to this national epidemic. So much of the time, we seem to be able to do little more than write letters to our representatives in Congress, participate in marches, and vote. She and I explored the moral dilemmas voters face when weighing the differences between their historical voting patterns and the realities that force them to question their actions.

My friend told me about someone she has known for a long time who always votes for the Republican ticket. Her husband, family and most of their associates are strong supporters of the Republican Party, regardless of its policies related to current events.

When it came time to vote for either Trump or Harris, however, this longstanding Republican woman could not bring herself to vote for Trump. Neither could she commit to Harris publicly nor privately, though that was her strong desire. On election day, she almost made it to the voting booth but stepped out of line at the last moment, called a Democratic friend and had her come over to fill in the little oval next to Harris’ name.

This moral struggle reminded me of an episode of Call the Midwife, a TV series that began in 2012 and is currently running on Netflix. In the episode, a woman whose family’s religion is Christian Science cannot freely give permission to have her newborn child medicated to save his life.

After much turmoil, the Catholic nun-midwife attending to the family, tells the young mother that her own religion permits the use of medication and convinces her to allow the nun to administer the treatment, leaving the mother free of the anguish and guilt that deciding between her faith and the use of medication was causing.

I was eleven years old the first time I faced a major moral dilemma. It was summer, and the children’s camp my parents owned in northern Michigan was in full swing. My sisters and I blended in with the campers, living in cabins as if our parents were not even there.

One night after lights-out, Susie, one of the girls from the oldest cabin, woke me up. I adored this girl, who treated me like a little sister. She was fifteen or sixteen and very smart, athletic, and kind. I wanted to be just like her. What was she doing in my cabin so late at night?

Susie was quite upset as she told me that a few girls from her cabin had sneaked out, taken canoes, and were meeting some townie boys on the other side of the lake. She warned that if anything happened to the girls, my parents would be responsible. I feared the canoes would capsize and someone might drown, or the girls would be in danger with boys they didn’t know.

My first impulse was to go tell my parents. Susie cautioned that blowing the whistle on the girls would be very unpopular, and I would likely be ostracized for going to my parents. She promised to stand by me regardless of my decision. Without hesitation, I ran to my parents’ cabin and told them. Susie had been right. By the next day, everyone in camp had heard of the foiled caper and who tattled. As uncomfortable as I was in the aftermath of my actions, I never regretted my decision to do what I believed was the right thing.

In retrospect, Susie had her own dilemma; she could have gone directly to my parents rather than engage me as a surrogate. Why couldn’t Susie, the Republican voter, or the young mother act independently?

What they all had in common was that last surge of courage it takes to risk social repercussions. They knew they were unaligned with their sense of right and wrong, but they lacked the strength of their convictions.

So why did I act without much thought to personal consequences?

I think the difference between the women in the other scenarios and me comes from an inner voice, like an echo, from parental influence. My parents were effective teachers in lessons of moral character. They emphasized that doing the right thing is more important than how others may judge me. They cautioned me not to follow others off a cliff, and that I had to use my own brain to think through dilemmas.

The traditionally Republican voter and the young Christian Science mother were taught to follow the doctrines of their families and church without questioning them, and that the risk of being condemned should be the driving force. I believe Susie had little experience as a teenager in facing moral dilemmas, and I suspect the camp incident was as important a lesson for her as it was for me.

We are all faced with moral dilemmas throughout our lives, some more significant than others. And we are challenged to consider the aspects of each difficult situation before deciding either to act or remain idle. We do have to live with the consequences of our decisions, but most importantly, we have to live with ourselves!

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This column is devoted to psychological topics that speak to the human condition, such as relationships, family, love, loss, and happiness. The ideas, thoughts, philosophies, and observations expressed here are personal and not meant as professional advice. Names and identifying information have been changed to protect the privacy of real people.

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Dr. Nancy Fishman moved to Santa Clara County in 2016 from Michigan, where she was a practicing psychologist. Currently, she is a strategy consultant to individuals, families, businesses, family law attorneys and their clients--working on coping, managing, reorganizing, pivoting and innovating. She is the founder of Forgotten Harvest, one of the nation’s largest food recovery operation, and is also the creator of Silicon Valley’s A La Carte food recovery and distribution initiative. Nancy lives on a family compound with her husband, sisters, brother-in-law, and a pack of dogs.

NancyFishmanPhD.com

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