My 90-year-old father’s emails mostly consist of forwarding things from friends — cute animal pictures, bawdy jokes, YouTube clips, TikTok videos. It’s his way of staying connected. But he also sends me — and others in his contacts — items that are obviously fake: scams, political misinformation, A.I. fakes. He usually can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t. When he sends me these things, I try to gently point out that they are not true or real and include links to verify this. I’ve told him about Snopes and similar fact-checking sites, but he does not seem to be able to discern when something is questionable enough to look up, and I’m not sure he really knows how to research this sort of thing. My father does not have dementia, but neither is he very media literate. I worry about him, as both he and my mother (who is somewhat cognitively impaired) have fallen prey to internet or phone scams in the past that cost them some real money and headaches. My question is: To what extent should I continue to inform him when he sends me things that are obviously phony? I feel protective, and I want to encourage him to be more vigilant; I also want to discourage him from perpetuating it. But I fear that he feels shamed by this and believes that I think he is stupid. And is it really my business to correct him if he hasn’t asked my opinion? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
Relations between parents and children inevitably shift over time, and it’s not easy for either to accept that, as parents age, they sometimes require the same sort of supervisory care they once provided. It’s no surprise that your 90-year-old father struggles to evaluate online content — after all, TikTok and YouTube didn’t exist when he (presumably) retired, and the landscape of digital misinformation can be confusing even for younger people. It’s remarkable that he’s trying to keep up with it at all.
But yes, constantly correcting him is only going to reinforce the sense that you think he’s out of his depth, which, of course, you do. Still, you don’t want to discourage him from staying in touch, and ignoring his emails isn’t a good solution. Some of what he’s forwarding isn’t just silly or false; it’s potentially dangerous, and you’re right to feel protective given his track record with scams.
Instead of firing off corrections or fact-checks every time, though, why not sit down with him during your next visit and actually walk through how you evaluate the stuff that arrives over the virtual transom? Show him, in real time, how you check whether something’s legit or not. It might make him feel more capable, and who knows, it could be an enjoyable way for you two to spend some time together. You can’t control what he chooses to believe or share, but you can try to give him better tools to navigate the mess.
A Bonus Question
I am one of five children, and our father is in his late 80s. He has always enjoyed gambling but held a high-paying job until retirement. We assumed he was financially secure enough to support himself and our mother for life. Recently, he began approaching each child individually, asking if we’re interested in buying his home — our childhood residence. We all own our own homes and vaguely expected to inherit shares of his someday, without much thought. It emerged that he has accrued debt through home-equity loans and credit-card spending, extent unknown, while continuing to gamble. We’ve discussed this privately and are unsure how to proceed. We’ve told him individually that we can’t afford a second mortgage. He insists on keeping the home in the family, selling for full market value, then living there with our mother indefinitely, paying rent to the buyer. This would clear his debts and most likely conceal their scale from our mother, who handles no finances. He stresses that she couldn’t endure moving. Our father gave us a really nice childhood, but I resent his request and the accompanying guilt. Is it a child’s duty to bail out a parent by assuming more debt than the child can handle? Is it fair for him to ask this? The worry and guilt are keeping me up at night. — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
In our society, you don’t inherit a father’s debts along with his eyes or his chin. Inevitably, this request comes loaded — with guilt, not to mention the hope that blood runs thicker than compounding interest. But the gratitude you feel doesn’t mean you’re required to settle up every marker he leaves behind at this late hour. If you agreed to shoulder his burden, you would risk your own financial stability. This is the time to call in a professional, someone who traffics in spreadsheets and hard truths and can sort through options like debt restructuring, reverse mortgages, the whole tool kit. The fairest thing — for him, for you, for your mother waiting in the next room — is not to gamble your future on his past. It’s to help your parents get the guidance they need, protecting your own financial footing while you help them find theirs.
Readers Respond
The previous question was from a letter writer whose colleague is expecting too much professional, personal and emotional support. He wrote:
“I work closely with a colleague who has long struggled with alcoholism — so much so that he nearly lost his job multiple times. He confided in me recently that his wife and children have left him. He says he has no one else. We hung out once, briefly, outside work more than a year ago, and since then he has started leaning heavily on me, not just for support at work but emotionally and personally as well. I care about his well-being, and I’ve told him that I’ll support him in the workplace however I can. But I’ve also been honest that I can’t be his everything outside work. … How do I draw a boundary without feeling that I’m abandoning someone in crisis?” — Name Withheld
In his response, the Ethicist noted:
“Sometimes life places us in situations in which we’re uniquely positioned to help someone in serious trouble, even though we never volunteered for that role. Think of a sole witness to a crime, who suddenly bears obligations she never asked for. Or the good Samaritan in the New Testament parable, who comes across someone who was robbed, stripped, wounded and abandoned. If the previous passers-by had done what they should have, there would be nothing for the Samaritan to do. But the fact that their neglect created the need doesn’t excuse him from doing something…In this case, you can’t pretend not to see your colleague’s crisis. At first, your help was just a stopgap until he regained his footing. But once you start helping, your responsibilities can grow. If you’ve led someone halfway across a dangerous river, you can’t leave the person stranded midstream. … Wisely, you recognize this dynamic, and you want to resist letting your commitments grow beyond what you can sustain. The key is being clear about those boundaries.
(Reread the full question and answer here.)
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The colleague’s alcoholism and related issues are his responsibility. The writer would do this man a great service by directing him to people who specialize in alcoholism. He can call his local Alcoholics Anonymous central office for directory of meetings and to speak to someone who will explain alcoholism and A.A. in general. As a lovely as the writer sounds, further support is enabling this man by allowing him to lean on the writer entirely. That’s exhausting and will cost him in the long run. Again, the colleague is responsible for his own health and wellness. The writer will have to establish boundaries and quickly. — Leslie
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I would refer the colleague to whatever help lines are available (many companies have Employee Assistance Programs that are independent from H.R.) and gently remove yourself from his life. The worst-case scenario for you is that some of his behavior (particular with alcohol or other substances) spills over into the workplace, and you are implicated somehow. I realize that this is difficult given your feelings, but better for you to seek out your own help for that than to lose your job or your sanity helping someone you hung out with once. — Jack
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Suggesting A.A. is a very good idea. I’d like to add something. I highly recommend the writer take his co-worker to an A.A. meeting. Nonalcoholics are welcome at open meetings; call ahead and ask if the meeting is open. When someone offers to take an alcoholic to his first meeting and attend it, he is much more likely to go. It is an excellent way to show support and compassion. — Bruce
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There is another aspect to this situation — the very real possibility that the ailing co-worker is using the support of the writer in lieu of doing the painful and difficult work of genuinely addressing his problem. From this perspective, “supporting” can slide into “enabling.” Compassion is always warranted, and sometimes the most compassionate thing to do is the hardest. — Steven
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It’s admirable that you care about your colleague’s well-being, but you are right to recognize that this situation has created blurred lines between professional support and personal responsibility. Compassion does not mean you have to take on the role of therapist, family or close friend. The most constructive way to help is to make clear that you are there for him in the workplace but that his increasing reliance on you outside of work is more than you can manage. — Jenniffer
Kwame Anthony Appiah is The New York Times Magazine’s Ethicist columnist and teaches philosophy at N.Y.U. To submit a query, send an email to [email protected].
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