The Note on the Windshield

A few years ago, at a holiday dinner with friends, someone told a story about a colleague who had done the following:

He had booked a vacation through a small airline (I’ll omit names and incriminating details to protect the “innocent”). When he later needed to change his itinerary, the airline wanted to charge him $600. So he did a little research about the company’s CEO (where he went to college, what fraternity he belonged to, his interests, etc.)

Armed with this information, he called the airline’s reservations department, impersonated an old friend of the CEO, and persuaded them to waive the fee.

My reaction was immediate.

“What an a-hole,” I said.

To my surprise, not everyone agreed. One person said, “I think what he did was wonderful. I don’t see a problem with it.” I was momentarily flustered and could only respond, “It just seems wrong. It’s….. unethical.”

To which the reply was, “Yeah, well, you’re just so ethical.”

As if that were a flaw.

What followed was a long discussion about right and wrong, ethics, criminality, and the idea that morality might simply be in the eye of the beholder. It was unsettling on many levels, but also thought-provoking.

The next day, when I left work, I noticed a note on the windshield of my car. As Maimonides once said, “A note on the windshield is rarely a good thing.” (He said a lot of cool things, by the way.)

The note read: “Check your left rear fender.” It included a name and a phone number.

Until then, I hadn’t noticed anything wrong. But when I walked around the car, I saw that the not only was the left rear bumper dented, the right rear tire had been pushed into the curb, damaging the rim, and the trunk sat slightly askew. I managed to drive the car home, but it felt and sounded bad.

I called the number and identified myself as the owner of the blue Saturn. The man apologized, then told me he had hit my car and it was his fault, and that he had already contacted his insurance company and told them that. He asked if it was okay for him to call me back with the claim number.

I thanked him and then said the first thing that came to mind:
“What you’re doing is so… ethical.”

He called back shortly with the claim number. The insurance adjuster told me they accepted full responsibility, arranged a rental car if I needed one, and asked where I wanted the car evaluated. I thanked him and asked how often people in this situation leave a note.

“About ten percent,” he said.

In the end, the insurance company totaled my old Saturn and paid me $5,000 for it — far more than I would have sold or traded it for. I used the rental while shopping for a new car and eventually found a great deal on a meaningful upgrade.

I’ll admit it: I’ve gotten a lot of mileage out of this story.

A few observations…..

More than one person told me they’d heard of people hitting a parked car, pretend to leave a note because someone was watching, and then leave false information. Oy vey.

Some people thought the airline impersonation story was clever — even admirable. I found myself wondering: if you did something like that, would you brag about it? Wouldn’t you at least be a little embarrassed to tell anyone?

I think if I hit a parked car, I’d be in the ten percent who leave a note. That said, I’d probably also glance around to see if anyone noticed. I’d like to think I’d still do the right thing — but I’m honest enough to admit I’d at least have to think about it.

A bit of backstory about my 2002 Saturn.

A few days before this happened, I was at home debating whether to finally sell it and get something newer. At the exact moment I decided to keep it — because it ran well and I didn’t really care much about cars — Neil Young’s “Long May You Run” came on the radio.

I always thought the song was about an old friend, but had recently learned it was about his car.

“With your chrome heart shining in the sun…Long may you run”

May we all run long and do right! Happy New Year to All!

This piece was originally published on Blogger as “Ethics Is Easy” (2012)