I recall that, years ago, when I undertook a pilgrimage to a sacred shrine in India, I obtained a special permit to have my ‘darshan’ of the deity. The privilege obtained through personal ‘connection’ enabled me to bypass the miles-long queue of devotees behind me, who had been waiting for hours. Contrary to my pious spirit of spiritual invocation, it was an unethical act on my part to disregard my ethics and to be indifferent to the patience and devotion of the crowd behind me.

Well, I’m not alone in occasionally sidestepping my moral principles.

Most of us commit unfair acts like these, compromising integrity while believing we are reasonably ethical in our day-to-day dealings with situations and people. And that we’re usually authentic in our behaviours.

We hold an internal certificate of good conduct, which is rarely examined, reviewed, or automatically renewed.

Yet there are moments, under pressure, convenience, fear, ambition, impatience, or sheer fatigue, when we drift away from those ethical commitments. On some occasions, it helps us personally, a friend, or a dear one, to overlook the badges of virtue we carry.

The drift from ethical to non-ethical behaviour is subtle and spontaneous, yet it is imperative. We negotiate with our conscience. And once the choice is made, its justification supersedes.

Preachers and priests, politicians and professionals, who lecture on the “art of living” also fall into moral segregation and engage in immoral or improper acts; they then attempt to return to their ethical teachings and practices after a brief lapse of conscious awareness.

In the case of societies and governments, it takes considerable time to recognize historical injustices and corrupt practices and deals committed for political opportunism or in the name of societal benefits or reforms.

History is replete with such practices across cultures and communities, in which institutions, societies, and authorities behave in ways that abandon fundamental moral values.

Take, for example, a macabre part of Canada’s hidden history exposed when its political-priest nexus repackaged indigenous identity with White-European, denying the natural flow of culture and heritage from parents to children. In 1883, the first Prime Minister of Canada, John A. Macdonald, argued in the Commons for the removal of Indigenous children from their “savage” parents so they could learn the ways of white people.

And then the infamous chapter of Canadian history when 376 Indians, all British subjects, were denied entry and sailed back on the Komagata Maru ship in 1914 due to the racist attitude of the government, the public and even the press. It was only in recent years that the xenophobic behaviour was realized, and apologies and memorials followed.

Historical amoral wrongs were committed in the pursuit of personal gain or societal reforms to satisfy the public and the regime’s ill-conceived agenda. The acceptance of historical blunders, gaffes, and errors is often justified as reflecting the prevailing mood of the period’s social and political environment. These morally wrong programs may be realized later as misguided policies.

However, unethical acts have been committed by society, institutions, or individuals in the meantime.

The moral shortcuts committed, individually or collectively, by society are often quickly justified as part of human nature, thereby sparing us the discomfort of virtuous scrutiny.

Individually, we tell ourselves that everyone does it, that there was no real harm, that the situation left no choice, or that this is only temporary. The mind prioritizes efficiency over integrity when the two appear to conflict.

Such moral shortcuts operate below the surface of conscious thought. They allow us to bypass ethical reflection while preserving our self-image as “good people.”

The consequence arrives later, when the decision finally collides with our deeper moral awareness. By then, the act is done, and all that remains is to convert the unethical behaviour into a necessity.

When our ethical behaviour slips, we conveniently outsource responsibility to circumstances, society, systems, or survival. The context becomes the culprit; we become the victim. In doing so, we transform a moral failure into a reasonable response. The explanation sounds logical, even persuasive, but it quietly empties morality of personal accountability.

However, I feel the humane need for absolution of some illegal acts that are crucial and pressing. For instance, those desperate migrants in dire circumstances and in dinghy boats sail into choppy waters or climb the electrified high walls to seek refugee status for safer and better lives.

Still, moral shortcuts are generally natural but dangerous. Repeatedly taken, they don’t merely excuse a single lapse; they slowly redraw the boundaries of what we consider acceptable. Over time, what once felt like a compromise begins to feel like common sense.

Ethics, however, is not tested in moments of comfort. It is tested precisely when shortcuts appear tempting, and justification feels easy. That is where moral commitment either deepens or quietly erodes with one rational explanation at a time.

-By Promod Puri
Promodpuri.com
Progressivehindudialogue.com