More stories

  • in

    I Had an Affair With a Politician Who Denies Being Gay. Do I Keep His Secret?

    Is what happened between us my story to tell?Many years ago, I had a brief relationship with another young man. We had sex once, and he wanted to continue but asked me to keep it secret because he was in politics. I was a hotheaded gay activist, and I refused on principle, ending the affair. He went on to become one of the most prominent politicians in his country. He was a single man for a long time, but when asked about his sexuality he denied being gay. He eventually married a woman and lives a putatively heterosexual life.I am a writer. Is what happened between us my story to tell, or is it his story to (still) hide? Is he entitled to privacy? Am I obligated to keep his name a secret even though I didn’t agree to do that at the time, and when asked to keep it quiet I refused? — Name WithheldFrom the Ethicist:Let’s start with the obvious questions: Why now, after all this time? What would you hope to gain from this disclosure? You say that this man is a prominent politician in “his country” (which is presumably not your own), but you don’t indicate that you think he’s a threat to the common good. Is what moves you a belated desire for recognition? A murky wish to be acknowledged in a story that has long since moved on without you — to insert yourself in someone else’s Wikipedia page?Sexual intimacy presupposes a measure of respect for the privacy of those involved. Would your brief encounter have occurred had you announced in advance that you felt free to publish the names of your sexual partners? And there’s an ethical weight that comes with holding in your hands another person’s private life, or an episode of it, anyway. You don’t know how he now thinks of his own sexuality, what his wife knows, how they’ve shaped their lives together or what accommodations have been made in the privacy of a life that has nothing to do with you anymore. Before you risk bruising another family, perhaps it’s worth closing your laptop and pausing to consider: Do you really have good reason to change course and stop honoring the intimacy of your youthful affair?Once a story like this reaches the media, especially social media, it can spiral far beyond your control. Depending on the political culture of his country, what begins as a personal anecdote can quickly turn into a public spectacle. The result could be more intrusive, more destructive and more lasting than you anticipate — for him, his family and for you. You can send a story out into the world, but you can’t call it home.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    I Think My Son Is Gay. Should I Talk to Him About Coming Out?

    I’d love to be able to have honest conversations about what he’s going through.I am the mother of two delightful teenage boys in the throes of navigating all the challenges that youth brings. Over the past few years, it has become evident to me that my younger son is most likely gay. I believe I am the only person in the family to have noticed his interest in rainbow flags or his outrage at injustices to the L.G.B.T.Q.+ community, among other, subtler, indications.I’ve always thought it quite unfair that only those who fall under the L.G.B.T.Q.+ umbrella have the onerous burden of “coming out.” Last summer my son weathered the heartbreak of a dear friend, likely a crush, moving away. For Valentine’s Day, a female classmate asked my son out, and he turned her down. His life is getting increasingly complicated. I don’t want to push him to come out before he’s ready, but I’d love to be able to have honest conversations about some of what he’s going through. My question is: Should I wait and let him come out when he’s ready, or is there a way I can save him the trouble? What is the most thoughtful way to approach this? — Name WithheldFrom the Ethicist:I get why you want to spare him the awkward dance of coming out, but for many young people, it’s a way to claim an identity on their terms. (For many parents, in turn, it involves pretending that the declaration comes as news.) Pressing fast-forward could leave him with the sense that he has lost a measure of agency — that a big moment has been pre-empted. It could also make him feel exposed or rushed. There are all sorts of ways that you can indicate your loving acceptance and reassure him that you’ll be a soft place to land. Indeed, I’m sure you’ve already done so. When he’s ready, you’ll be there — arms open, heart steady, no script needed.Readers RespondThe previous question was from a reader wondering whether to disclose the toxic products used on the shared lawn when selling a condo. The reader wrote: “I am hoping to sell my condo. I live in a homeowner’s association that still uses many toxic landscaping products. … Several residents have worked over the past two years, without success, to change the association’s landscaping practices. What is my obligation to disclose these harmful products to prospective buyers, especially those with young children and pets?”We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Is It Ethical to Buy Used Books and Music?

    The magazine’s Ethicist columnist on what consumers owe to artists.Is it ethical to buy used books and music instead of new copies that will financially reward the author or artist? What do consumers owe to producers of art? — Gerald BarkerFrom the Ethicist:There’s actually a lot to be said for buying used and sustaining the low-cost democracy of art’s second life. For one thing, there are environmental advantages in the practice: Physical media are designed to endure and be shared beyond the first owner. And artists can benefit from secondary markets in real, if less tangible, ways. Works that circulate widely can enhance the artist’s reputation, whether it’s a book read and passed along, a record rediscovered in a thrift shop or a painting resold at auction. Enthusiastic new audiences, prominent displays and word-of-mouth appreciation can all contribute to a creator’s stature. (Notice that this situation is very different from music-streaming platforms, where artists are basically meant to be paid for each listen, but the recompense is often a pittance.)What artists, especially the good ones, are owed is not a cut of every encounter we have with their work but a system that gives them a real opportunity to sell their work, to build a career, to find a public. After that, their creations rightly become part of the wider cultural world, as with books in a library or paintings in a museum, where countless people can enjoy them freely across the generations.Used-book stores or vintage-record shops, where hidden gems lurk like geodes waiting to be split open, play a role, too. Such venues don’t just preserve art; they bring enthusiasts together, spark conversations and cultivate new audiences. In Michael Chabon’s novel “Telegraph Avenue,” a vintage-record shop is both a community hub and a battlefront for cultural preservation; in Helene Hanff’s book “84, Charing Cross Road,” treasured titles help sustain a human connection across an ocean. Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I stumbled across both in used-book stores, providing their authors no royalties but plenty of affection. This setup isn’t a failure of fairness; it’s part of how creative work gains cultural traction.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    My ‘Natural’ Hairdresser Uses Synthetic Chemicals. Can I Leave a Bad Review?

    The magazine’s Ethicist columnist on responding to a small-business owner’s misleading claims.I’ve been going to a hairstylist who promotes his all-natural, organic dye as healthy for hair. I never questioned it, until at my most recent visit he dyed my hair the wrong color. When I asked him to fix it, he made it even worse, turning my hair a deep mahogany instead of the golden copper I requested. For two weeks he repeatedly insisted, via text, that he had done it correctly, and that I didn’t know what I wanted. His rude, angry responses made me too uncomfortable to ever return. Frustrated, I researched the dye brand he used and was horrified to learn that its key ingredient, ethanolamine, is potentially more damaging to hair than ammonia, and I’ve read that it could be carcinogenic.Now I’m torn. My hairstylist refunded my money, and I sympathize with him as a small-business owner, but I also feel compelled to warn people that his “healthy” dye may not be as safe as he claims. Am I obligated to speak up, or should customers be responsible for doing their own research? Would posting a negative review protect others or punish him by potentially putting his small business at risk? What’s the right thing to do? — Name WithheldFrom the Ethicist:I understand why you’re feeling torn. You don’t want to jeopardize someone’s livelihood over a disappointing experience, but you also feel a responsibility to speak up if others might be misled. Two key questions are whether your stylist knowingly misrepresented the product and whether it really poses health risks.It’s entirely possible he genuinely believed what he was saying. Companies often use carefully crafted language to make their dyes sound especially “natural.” Naturtint, for example, highlights its U.S.D.A. BioPreferred certification and touts “botanical-inspired formulas.” Aveda describes its hair-color line as “vegan.” Both brands still contain industrially synthesized chemicals. (Yes, chemists classify most carbon-containing compounds as “organic,” but that’s not how marketers use the term.) Your stylist may simply be parroting what the product reps told him.When it comes to safety, precision matters. Ethanolamine-based dyes may not be as gentle as their marketing suggests — some studies do indicate they can weaken hair more than ammonia does. Still, they’re far less harsh than the all-natural potash or slaked lime our ancestors once used. Like ammonia, ethanolamine helps open the hair cuticle so color can penetrate. It’s also a normal product of our body’s metabolism, though it’s industrially produced for commercial use. While it shouldn’t be combined with substances that can form harmful nitrosamines — a risk reputable brands are careful to avoid — ethanolamine is not classified as a carcinogen.Which brings us to your dilemma. If you do write a review, focusing on your personal experience — the color errors and how the stylist responded — would be the fairest and most helpful approach. There’s no clear legal definition of “natural” for cosmetic products; the status of ethanolamine is complicated; and unless you feel confident explaining it clearly, it may not be the most relevant detail to include.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    A Guy I Know Had a Liver Transplant. Now He’s Boozing Again.

    The magazine’s Ethicist columnist on how to support someone with an addiction problem.My significant other has a friend who is a longtime alcoholic, while also being intelligent, entertaining and conniving. For example, he used to tell his wife he was going to the gym and then head to the bar; before returning home, he’d dampen his clothes in the bathroom to make it seem as if he’d gotten a good sweat on. He was off the radar for a bit, and then we learned he had a liver transplant. After that, he had an episode of hepatic encephalopathy, a brain disorder caused by liver dysfunction. It seems the doctors knew he was still drinking but gave him the new liver anyway and counseled abstinence. A few parties later, he was sneaking vodka, gin and whatever else was around. He lies to everyone and has made his guy friends vow not to tell his wife about his drinking. They’ve made a meager attempt to confront him, only to be assured that he just fell off the wagon and would be good. Just don’t tell the wife!I’m appalled that they’re going along with this. There are a couple of ethical issues here. First, who should decide whether someone is entitled to a transplant? Some hospital systems deny a liver transplant to patients who continue to drink alcohol, and other hospitals don’t. Second, do the friends have an obligation to tell this man’s wife that he’s still drinking? She could insist he leave the house and go to rehab, in which case he might have a chance of living long enough to see his children get married. Some additional context: A friend of mine died waiting for a liver transplant. I am also the child of a lifelong alcoholic. — Name WithheldFrom the Ethicist:There’s more than one morally defensible way of allocating donor organs. In the United States, as in Western Europe, the system emphasizes equity and basically gives priority to patients with the greatest need. An approach that focused instead on efficiency — on getting the maximum use out of donated livers, as measured by ‘‘quality-adjusted life years’’ — might give an edge to people who were younger and otherwise healthier and might work against low-income and minority populations.Organ allocation in the United States is governed by the Organ Procurement and Transplantation Network (O.P.T.N.), whose policies determine the order in which deceased-donor organs are offered; they do not, however, dictate medical practice. So it’s up to a medical center to decide whether or not transplant candidates with alcohol-related liver disease are to abstain from alcohol for some period — six months having long been a typical sobriety window. Some studies indicate that carefully selected patients who aren’t subject to a sobriety window can do just as well as those who are (though the data is hard to interpret because of the ‘‘carefully selected’’ part). And if your drinking has caused a severe case of acute hepatitis that doesn’t respond to medical treatment, you probably won’t survive a six-month waiting period. So the trend seems to be away from requiring an extended interval of abstinence.The point is that the current system for allocating this scarce resource is morally legitimate, whatever trade-offs it may entail; its architects are perfectly aware that many liver recipients will not succeed in refraining from heavy drinking afterward. The fact that this longtime alcoholic has returned to his old habits is distressing. It doesn’t mean that the system isn’t functioning the way it’s meant to.One thing that transplant centers may try to determine is whether patients with an alcohol problem have social networks that could help them stay sober. This brings us to your second question. This fellow’s friends weren’t looking after him when they agreed to uphold this boozy bro code and keep mum. He doesn’t want to die, but he’s drinking himself to death, which means that, at least in this key area, he lacks the capacity for rational decision-making. In a situation like that, it’s more important to attend to his interests than to respect his autonomy. If there’s a chance that his life can be extended by successful management of his alcoholism, and if discussing the problem with his wife will help, thoughtful friends would do just that.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    Shouldn’t Trump Voters Be Viewed as Traitors?

    The magazine’s Ethicist columnist on whether voters should be held accountable for their chosen candidate’s behavior.From my perspective, the attack on the Capitol spurred on by Donald Trump on Jan. 6, 2021, the efforts to nullify the results of the 2020 election with false electors and unfounded court cases and the persistent effort to discredit those election results without evidence amounted to an attempt to overthrow a pillar of our democracy. More to the point, 18 U.S. Code Chapter 115 includes crimes against the nation described as treason, misprision of treason, rebellion or insurrection, seditious conspiracy and advocating the overthrow of government. I hold anyone voting for Trump at least morally guilty for the consequences of Jan. 6 and everything that follows the recent election. Would you agree that people who vote for Trump in light of these circumstances are themselves guilty of treasonous acts? — Name WithheldFrom the Ethicist:Something like three-quarters of Americans, surveys over the past year report, think democracy in America is threatened. To go by exit-poll data, those voters supported Trump in about the same proportions as those who thought democracy was secure. In a study published last year, researchers at U.C. Berkeley and M.I.T. provided evidence that democratic back-sliding around the world — with citizens voting for authoritarian leaders — is driven in part by voters who believe in democracy but doubt that the other side does. The researchers found that such voters, once shown the actual levels of support for democracy among their opponents, became less likely to vote for candidates who violated democratic norms. The general point is that not understanding the actual views of people of other parties — and assuming the worst of them — can be dangerous for democracy.Trump voters, for the most part, don’t think he committed treason. And your position can’t be that unknowingly voting for someone guilty of treason is itself treasonous. Perhaps you think that they should believe him to have been treasonous. Similar issues were aired when Henry Wallace, otherwise a highly dissimilar figure, ran for president in 1948. He had denounced the Marshall Plan, wanted the Soviet Union to play a role in the governance of Germany’s western industrial heartland and — detractors thought — was a Stalin apologist.Historians can debate whether he was a voice of conscience or a pawn of America’s adversaries. But suppose you were among those who viewed him as a traitor. To have extended the indictment to his supporters would have been to criminalize political disagreement. Besides, if voting for someone who has done bad things makes you guilty of them, most voters are in deep trouble. It’s easy to be inflamed by someone with a habit of making inflammatory statements. But there may be a cost when you deem those who vote for the other side as ‘‘the enemy from within.’’ That’s a term that Trump has freely employed, of course. You’ll want to ask yourself whether protecting democracy is best served by adopting this attitude.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    My Date Recorded Us Having Sex Without My Consent. Should I Report Them?

    My Date Recorded Us Having Sex Without My Consent. Should I Report Them?Illustration by Tomi UmI went on a date with someone, and we went back to their apartment. In the middle of sex, I caught this person, who uses they/them pronouns, recording me on their phone. For my safety, I chose to pretend I did not notice, as I did not want to be stranded in the middle of the night. In the morning, I confronted them, and they apologized and deleted the video. They said that was their first time recording someone during sex and a spur-of-the-moment decision, albeit a bad one.When I arrived home I felt more dehumanized than angry, as if I were a sex toy. I told my friends what happened, and they were very upset, and urged me to file a police report. I dismissed this at first, but I looked online and found that capturing imagery of a person’s private parts without their consent, when there is a reasonable expectation of privacy, is a violation of state and federal laws.I decided to contact my date and inform them of the gravity of their actions and told them never to do it again. I also decided that I didn’t want to press charges. I do not want to subject myself to a lengthy legal process, repeating and reliving this story over and over, as well as having to tell my family or put my life on hold. My friends are concerned that I don’t feel upset enough, and they assume that this was not my date’s first time recording someone, and will not be the last. They think I should file a police report to prevent my date from recording others in the future. I chose to assume that my date is a normal human being who made a stupid decision and does not necessarily deserve a criminal record because of it. By informing my date of the severity of their actions, they now know to never make that mistake again.My friends don’t agree with my decision, despite understanding why I would not want to press charges. We all agree that it should not be my responsibility to prevent my date from committing future crimes, but they think I should do it anyway because it’s the right thing to do. I fear that they think less of me now because I am ‘‘protecting’’ my date by giving them the benefit of the doubt, and that I’m being selfish because I do not want to sacrifice myself to the legal system on the chance that my date is a morally reprehensible person who will continue to record people without their consent. — Name Withheld, San DiegoFrom the Ethicist:Philosophers sometimes contrast ‘‘agent-neutral’’ reasons with ‘‘agent-relative’’ ones: Very roughly, the first are general ones that apply to everybody; the second are specific to a person. There is an agent-neutral reason any child should be fed and cared for; there is an agent-relative reason I should feed and care for my child. The distinction can arise when we’re talking about supererogatory acts — acts that go beyond what’s morally required of you. Suppose, in an example offered by the philosopher Elizabeth Harman, you’re a bystander who’s preparing to enter a burning building to try to save a couple of people inside it. She suggests that from a general third-party perspective your proposed act may be simply admirable — but that a true friend isn’t going to urge you on. Instead, the friend, raising agent-relative reasons, will say: ‘‘Don’t risk your life. Think about your family.’’ If someone of modest means decides to give half her income to charity, similarly, strangers will find it praiseworthy, but, Harman writes, a friend may urge her to reconsider, asking how it will affect her and her loved ones.I understand why you’re being pressured. We want to see justice done; an investigation could reveal whether there’s a pattern of criminal offenses here. But what strikes me is that your friends aren’t acting like friends, giving priority to your own needs and interests; they’re acting like strangers, focused only on what they think would be best for the world. They want you to do something that has an unpredictable chance of benefiting unknown others, but that would also, you believe, cause you a great deal of stress and disrupt your life.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More

  • in

    The Atmosphere of the ‘Manosphere’ Is Toxic

    To understand the state of men in this country, it’s necessary to know three things.First, millions of men are falling behind women academically and suffering from a lack of meaning and purpose. Second, there is no consensus whatsoever on whether there’s a problem, much less how to respond and pull millions of men back from the brink. Third, many men are filling the void themselves by turning to gurus to guide their lives. They’re not waiting for elite culture, the education establishment or the church to define manhood. They’re turning to Andrew Tate, Joe Rogan, Jordan Peterson and a host of others — including Elon Musk and Tucker Carlson — to show them the way.Not all of these influencers are equally toxic. Tate, for example, is in a class by himself. He’s a pornographer who is facing human trafficking and rape charges in Romania. Peterson, by contrast, mixes good advice with a bizarre ideology. He’ll swing between compassionate insight and wild conspiracy. I’ve known men who genuinely improved their lives through elements of Peterson’s teaching. But to spend time watching and reading these gurus as a group is to understand why men continue to struggle even though the market is now flooded with online advice.It’s as if an entire self-help industry decided the best cure for one form of dysfunction is simply a different dysfunction. Replace passivity and hopelessness with frenetic activity, tinged with anger and resentment. Get in the weight room, dress sharper, develop confidence and double down on every element of traditional masculinity you believe is under fire.Yes, men are absolutely feeling demoralized, as Richard Reeves put it in his brilliant book “Of Boys and Men: Why the Modern Male Is Struggling, Why It Matters, and What to Do About It.” But what is the influencer advice in response? Lash out. Fight. Defy the cultural elite that supposedly destroyed your life.I’m reminded of my colleague David Brooks’s distinction between “résumé virtues” and “eulogy virtues.” As David described it, résumé virtues “are those skills you bring to the marketplace.” Eulogy virtues, by contrast, “are talked about at your funeral — whether you were kind, brave, honest or faithful. Were you capable of deep love?” Most of the “manosphere” influencers look at men’s existential despair and respond with a mainly material cure. Yes, some nod at classical values (and even cite the Stoics, for example), but it’s in service of the will to win. Success — with money, with women — becomes your best revenge.The problems with this approach are obvious to anyone with an ounce of wisdom or experience, but I’m reminded of a memorable line from “The Big Lebowski”: “I mean, say what you want about the tenets of national socialism, Dude, at least it’s an ethos.” It’s hard to counter something with nothing, and when it comes to the crisis confronting men and boys, there is no competing, holistic vision for our sons.We are having trouble retrieving the article content.Please enable JavaScript in your browser settings.Thank you for your patience while we verify access. If you are in Reader mode please exit and log into your Times account, or subscribe for all of The Times.Thank you for your patience while we verify access.Already a subscriber? Log in.Want all of The Times? Subscribe. More