Over the years, I have taught quite a few courses in the English Department. Among my favorites is Ethical Dilemma. One reason I like it is that teaching the course honors the man who conceived it: former Head of School John Hanly. The other reason is that it invites students and teachers to scan their own memories for personal experiences that raise difficult ethical questions. I certainly did this when I taught the course, and I thought I might share one here. It’s a good story, and it challenges the reader to figure out the right thing to do in a challenging set of circumstances.
Way back when, my dad was a first-year student in medical school. It was the end of the year, and he faced a final exam in what is considered one of the hardest courses in the curriculum: biochemistry. Coincidentally, my mom was very pregnant with my twin brother and me. Can you see where this is going? My mom was very near term; my dad was preparing for the final. Then, my mom went into protracted labor and had a very difficult delivery; she almost died. All the while, my dad sat anxiously in the waiting room, obviously without his biochemistry textbook. My mom finally delivered my brother and me, and she stabilized. This happy ending was the good news; the bad news was that it occurred two hours before my dad’s final exam. He faced a very tough test without having spent ten minutes preparing for it. Resigned, he headed over to the test site. He walked in looking quite disheveled, like the Christopher Lloyd mad scientist character in Back to the Future. His professor, Dr. Freitag, must have noticed because he asked my dad what was the matter. My dad told him what had happened; he also mentioned that he hadn’t studied for the test. Dr. Freitag extended both his hand and his congratulations. Then, he told my dad to go back to the hospital to be with his family. My dad asked about the test, and Dr. Freitag said that because my dad was carrying an “A” in the course, he didn’t have to take the final exam. My dad thanked him and left. My dad was given the “A”; he went on to graduate from medical school; and he enjoyed a successful career as a doctor (an Ob/Gyn of all things).
Growing up, I loved hearing this story, and I never felt guilty for putting both my mom and my dad through all that trouble. But over the years, it has bothered me a bit, ethically. That is, allowing my dad to forgo the final exam may have been a generous gesture, but was it the right thing to do? That exam was a big component in the course, probably worth a lot, and a culminating challenge in which the students had to demonstrate what they had learned. My father was an excellent student, and his standing average in the course strongly suggested he would pass the exam, and probably do well. Up to that point, he had both complied with and excelled on every test, quiz, and lab. I don’t think one could call his lack of preparation for the final exam his fault, and I don’t think anyone would argue that he should have holed up studying in the library while the lives of his wife and twin boys hung in the balance. Nevertheless, he didn’t fully complete the course requirements; he was granted a dispensation that came without any follow-up obligations whatsoever.
Was Dr. Freitag right in letting my dad off the hook? Could he justify it to the other students who had to take the final? Could he have known what they might have been facing in their lives? And did his decision with my dad’s case open up a Pandora’s box, one in which any number of people might argue that they, too, deserved a break because of their circumstances? Does the fact it was medical school make a difference? Graduates go on to take care of patients, sometimes in emergency situations (think of the doctors who saved my mom’s life). I have a degree in English. Does the fact that I will most likely never face a life-and-death situation mean that letting me not take a final for personal reasons matters any less?
These questions have swirled around my head for decades, and I put them to my students when I taught Ethical Dilemma. In the classroom discussions that ensued, I always heard some interesting perspectives.
What about yours?
To contact the author: Mr. Keating