Having been betrayed by a partner years ago, I still don’t understand why cheaters use the phrase ‘‘(She/he) didn’t mean anything to me.’’ How does one even respond to a statement like that? Do cheaters think that that’s supposed to somehow make the betrayed party feel better? Personally I found it demeaning and an even worse betrayal — as if infidelity is excusable because the connection was casual. Of course, these days I can play ‘‘I See Red,’’ by Everybody Loves an Outlaw, to make myself feel better, but that song hadn’t been written when I needed it. — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
Far be it from me to quarrel with Everybody Loves an Outlaw — the talented couple Bonnie and Taylor Sims — and their fine revenge song, but that ‘‘didn’t mean anything’’ line actually means a lot. This is how cheaters try to reassure their partners that their infidelity wasn’t going to lead to a serious relationship and needn’t spell the end of their existing one; that a fling was ‘‘just sex.’’ If a romantic partnership is to move forward, it surely matters whether your unfaithful partner is pining for somebody else, and cheaters understandably think that their mates will be comforted to hear otherwise.
So why does the line backfire? In part because the cheated-on party doesn’t want to hear the cheater minimize the transgression: If the betrayal ‘‘didn’t mean anything,’’ then your outrage is rendered unwarranted and inappropriate. And how penitent can someone be about such an affair?
In just a handful of words then, cheaters demean the people they cheated with by dismissing them as meaningless, demean their partner by implying their pain is unjustified and demean their relationship by saying that they betrayed their beloved’s trust for a liaison they insist was insignificant. I don’t know how best to convey all this, but it might help if somebody set it to music.
A Bonus Question
I’m a teacher at a small international high school in an Asian country where Mandarin is widely spoken as a native language. Our students are almost all Mandarin speakers. About 70 percent of our teachers are foreign, most of them American and English speakers like me. The other 30 percent are native speakers of Mandarin. The students come to this school mainly to learn English from native speakers of it, and to get an education while immersed in the English language. Everyone who works at the school is fluent in English, which is how we communicate with one another and students. Teachers are paired up and given a group of students to advise informally; we eat lunch with this group every day. The teacher I was paired with is a native Mandarin speaker.
My dilemma: During lunch, my partner teacher speaks only in Mandarin to the students. It’s a language I’m trying to learn, but I am nowhere near able to understand or join their conversation. Now at lunch I sit at the table while seemingly robust conversations between this teacher and our students take place around me. I understand that speaking in a second language as they do all day is exhausting, but I feel left out. I wish I were able to chat with my students and hear about their day. I am sad that I do not get the same opportunity to bond with and advise the students that my partner teacher does. I know that everyone at the table can speak English, but it still feels rude to ask them to stop speaking Mandarin when I am the only one who can’t speak the language. Yet this is an international school where English is the norm. Is it selfish to have a conversation with my partner teacher about speaking in English during lunch so I can be included? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
A big question here is whether lunch is viewed as part of the instructional day or as a break from it. Given that the school has a mission to provide English immersion, though, it would do well to maintain English as the primary language of communication even in informal settings — maybe especially in informal settings, which are richer in the peer-to-peer exchanges that build genuine fluency. If English is supposed to be the water in which the students learn to swim, they may not progress as fast if they’re handed floaties at lunch. The habit also means students don’t get the full benefits of whatever mentorship or advice you might be able to offer.
At the same time, it’s understandable that students find comfort and ease in speaking their native language. So you don’t need to arrive at an all-or-nothing outcome. Have an open conversation with your co-adviser, and discuss possible compromises. Maybe you’d have English-only days, or maybe English could be the primary language but students could feel free to use Mandarin to supplement. You could also talk with administrators about what approach is best aligned with the school’s mission. In the meantime, you might use the lunch hour to continue your Mandarin studies, possibly even asking the kids to help teach you. That could build bonds in another way.
Readers Respond
The previous question was from a reader concerned about the ethics of reading a news outlet for free. He wrote: “I canceled my digital subscription to a daily newspaper a couple of months ago, but the company still gives me total access to its content. Is it ethical to keep reading it?”
In his response, the Ethicist noted: “Journalism is increasingly dependent on digital subscribers, and if a glitchy system causes the publication to lose out on subscription revenue, their business model could, as the Brits say, go pear-shaped. An honest person would send them a message telling them what has happened. Then, if the account remains open, you can use it in good conscience. Even so, the fact that you’re still checking the content suggests it has value for you. Could your cancellation be worth reconsidering? These have been brutal times for news organizations, with a very few notable exceptions. While citizen journalism has its place, professional journalism — with its skilled reporters, photographers, editors, illustrators and more — requires real investment. Their work shows us worlds beyond our own and can subject our institutions and systems of governance to critical scrutiny. We’re already seeing the consequences of diminished local reporting, and if more newspapers fold, we’ll all pay the price. The fruits of journalism don’t come free, and they nourish our democracy.” (Reread the full question and answer here.)
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I heartedly agree with the Ethicist’s position. If you read it and it costs to produce, you should be pay for it. — Milton
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The newspaper’s content may still be relevant to the former subscriber, but financial circumstances may make it necessary to cancel. I completely agree with the Ethicist’s recommendation to notify the publication and then carry on if he continues to receive access to the newspaper’s content. But the letter writer should consider the local public library — it may have a digital subscription that members can access for free with a library card. (And if not, members can request periodicals, which the library may or may not be able to buy.) Libraries are in the business of sharing information, and they spend a considerable amount for online subscriptions, so it’s a good use of the letter writer’s tax dollars to utilize their resources. — Anne
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The Ethicist is correct in his description of the bind that journalists are in. But the elephant in the room is the fact that the exorbitant cost of online (and print) news services discourages people from subscribing to many in order to get alternative points of view. It’s a luxury many cannot afford. If news outlets reduce the price, they might gain greater revenue and encourage a more informed populace. — David
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I’m not sure if the letter writer’s situation is the same as mine, but I canceled my digital subscription to an outlet whose owner refused to let the editorial staff publish their presidential endorsement in the lead-up to the 2024 election. Many other patrons did the same. Several staff members resigned in protest. However, my subscription has not yet expired (I paid for a year, and the year is not up), so in this case I definitely feel justified in consuming the content I prepaid for. I’m also supporting several of the publication’s former employees by subscribing to their alternative endeavors, which is more expensive, but I feel that their individual efforts are more valuable to support than lining the pockets of an owner who decided that a free press wasn’t important after all. — Kat
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Even if you don’t read articles that often, consider your subscription a contribution to independent journalism. We are in an environment of biased social media and unreliable government press releases. We are losing our independent and investigative journalists because newspapers don’t make enough money from classifieds and other advertising. An online subscription is the cost of a couple of beers a month. Well worth it just to know that you are saving a source of reliable information in a world of self-serving bloggers. — Keith
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I’m 61, and for most of my life I have believed that good prevails. In recent years, I’ve begun to witness that this is no longer always the case, and it’s disappointing. We should always do the right thing, but unfortunately that’s not happening as much. I firmly believe that whether it’s a pear of the month or a newspaper subscription, the good and ethical thing to do is to notify and alert the provider of the potential error. “It’s only a pear … it’s only an article. … ” It’s a slippery slope. These “onlys” get more and more common, and we become more immune. I believe strongly in grace, and reaching out and kindly pointing to an error is just that — grace. Extend grace, and it will come back to you. We are running low on it these days. A simple call is all it takes. And I think that because the letter writer took the time to write this question (to a newspaper ethicist, no less), he already knows the answer. — Jean
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