Principles

Twenty years ago, at the moment of its IPO announcement, the most powerful company in the world declared that “Don’t be evil” would be the orchestrating principle of its executive strategy. How did Google intend not to be evil? By doing “good things” for the world, its IPO document explained, “even if we forgo some short-term gains.”

Eric Schmidt, Google’s CEO at the time, had some private doubts: as he would later explain in an interview to NPR, “There’s no book about evil except maybe, you know, the Bible or something.” But Schmidt came to believe that the absence of an authoritative definition was in fact a virtue, since any employee could exercise a veto over any decision that was felt not to involve “doing good things.” It took 10 years for the company’s executives to realize that the motto was a recipe for total, corporate paralysis, and quietly retired it.

Possible Preaching Angle:

The Bible offers a more nuanced and comprehensive approach to business ethics than Google's original motto, providing guidance on positive actions rather than just avoiding a vague negative motto (Micah 6:8).

Washington Post columnist Ty Burr believes the current American political climate is characterized by a sense of crass rule-breaking and flagrant boorishness. Such repugnant behavior was once regarded as an unfortunate side effect of political polarization. Now it is not only well within the mainstream but considered necessary to rally one’s political base. And Burr traces the genesis of this degeneration not to a particular political scandal, but to the release of a movie.

Burr wrote in a recent Post editorial: “Notions of entertainment and personal behavior were turned on their heads. Where audiences had once valued class, they now reveled in the joyously crass.”

Burr is, of course, referring to Animal House, the 1978 collegiate comedy depicting a fictional frat house. Starring John Belushi, Donald Sutherland and a host of other famous names, it elevated the previously unknown National Lampoon magazine into a hitmaking brand for film comedies.

Burr says he saw a preview screening of the film at Dartmouth College, where screenwriter Chris Miller was in attendance. Miller was a Dartmouth alum, and had based his film on the real-life antics of his fraternity, Alpha Delta. Burr writes:

That night, you could feel the collective mood swing like a compass needle toward a new north. The movie fed into and articulated a growing frustration with an overbearing political correctness, the fear that you couldn’t say what you wanted to without stepping on someone’s toes. Which, of course, made a lot of people want to step on someone’s — anyone’s — toes.

Burr says after the film’s end, he quickly saw its prevailing attitude reflected in the raucous student response to it:

Still burned onto my retinas is the image of screenwriter Miller being carried down Fraternity Row on the shoulders of a mob of cheering students, their faces flushed with happiness. What were they celebrating? Nothing less than the permission to indulge their privileges without guilt or responsibility.

Possible Preaching Angle:

All of us are influenced by the media that we consume and the truth--or lack thereof--within it. Let us be discerning in both our consumption and our production, of the messages we receive, counter, and amplify, so that God's character is revealed through our conduct.

Past generations of Americans viewed God as the basis of truth and morality. Not anymore. A new study shows that most Americans reject any absolute boundaries regarding their morality, with 58% of adults surveyed believing instead that moral truth is up to the individual to decide.

According to findings from pollster Dr. George Barna, belief in absolute moral truth rooted in God’s Word is rapidly eroding among all American adults. This is regardless if they are churched or unchurched, within every political segment, and within every age group. Even among those who do identify God as the source of truth, there is substantial rejection of any absolute standard of morality in American culture.

Perhaps most stunning, this latest research shows a rejection of God’s truth and absolute moral standards by American Christians, those seen as most likely to hold traditional standards of morality. Evangelicals, defined as believing the Bible to be the true, reliable Word of God, are just as likely to reject absolute moral truth (46%). And only a minority of born-again Christians—43%—still embrace absolute truth.

The study found that the pull of secularism is especially strong among younger Americans, with those under age 30 much less likely to select God as the basis of truth (31%), and more likely to say that moral standards are decided by the individual (60%).

As Jeff Meyers writes in his new book, Truth Changes Everything, “We live in a world where we cannot go a single day without hearing that truths are based on how we see things rather than on what exists to be seen. Truth is not ‘out there’ to be found; it is ‘in here’ to be narrated.”

You can read the full study from Arizona Christian University here.

Possible Preaching Angle:

A biblical worldview rests firmly on the idea that Truth can be known. It says that Truth isn't constructed by our experiences and feelings. Rather, a biblical worldview says that Truth exists. It is a person. It is Jesus (John 14:6).

Author Todd Rose makes the point that our tendency to make false assumptions, or fall into collective illusions, can result in mistrust, discouragement, and error. He writes,

If I asked how you personally define a successful life, which of these answers would you choose?

A. A person is successful if they have followed their own interests and talents to become the best they can be at what they care about most.

B. A person is successful if they are rich, have a high-profile career, or are well-known.

Now which one do you think most people would choose? If you chose option A for yourself but thought that most people would choose option B, you are living under a collective illusion. This question came from a 2019 study of more than fifty-two hundred people conducted on the ways the American public defines success.

The result was that 97 percent chose A for themselves, but 92 percent thought that most others would choose B.

Rose concluded, “We learned that a large majority of people felt that the most important attributes for success in their own lives were qualities such as character, good relationships, and education. But those same people believed that most others prioritized comparative attributes such as wealth, status, and power.”

Based on actual events, In The Heart of the Sea is a 2015 recounting of a New England whaling ship's sinking by a colossal white whale in 1820. The disaster would inspire Herman Melville's Moby-Dick. Because the voyage to acquire whale oil was a total failure, there is a pre-inquiry council convened of the business leaders and city elders of Nantucket. Both Captain George Pollard and his first mate Owen Chase are before the Council. Captain Pollard warns his first mate that telling the truth about a whale sinking their ship will have terrible ramifications for the whole industry. "But it is the truth," Chase says.

POLLARD (Stares at a member of the council then says to Chase): If the insurance houses and investors were to start worrying about sea monsters sinking ships, sailors drawing lots to survive … We are in the oil business. All of us. And as in any business the probability of success must always be greater than the risk incurred.

CHASE: So what are you suggesting, George?

COUNCIL MEMBER (interjects): That you say the ship ran aground.

CHASE: That's a lie.

COUNCIL MEMBER: And the men that died drowned.

CHASE: That's another lie.

POLLARD (in earnest to Chase): Think on it. They will make you captain.

CHASE: That pledge I already have in writing.

COUNCIL MEMBER: Only on the condition you bring home a ship full of oil. This way it's guaranteed. You would be a wealthy man. The name Chase need no longer be a landsman's name, but an established name that belongs among the great families of Nantucket.

CHASE: You want me to whitewash what happened for profit?

COUNCIL MEMBER: We are asking you to be pragmatic.

CHASE (a long pause then says firmly): The Essex was [sunk] by a white whale. And those of us that survived in ill-equipped whaleboats had to commit abominations in order to survive. And, on our return, we're expected to spread barefaced lies, so that you, the ship owners of Nantucket, might line your pockets and sleep well at night? Well, I will not embroider the truth. Nor should you, George. (He turns around and walks out.)

Editor's Note: This scene takes place on the DVD at Chapter 11:1 hour 43 minutes 32 seconds to 1 hour 46 minutes 20 seconds

An August 2015 poll from Barna highlighted what's been called our "new moral code." Here are the percentages of those who agreed "completely" or "somewhat" with the following statements:

• "The best way to find yourself is to look within yourself"—91 percent of U.S. adults agreed; 76 percent of practicing Christians agreed.
• "People should not criticize someone else's lifestyle choices"—89 percent agreed; 76 percent of Christians agreed.
• "To be fulfilled in life, you should pursue the things you desire most"—86 percent agreed; 72 percent of Christians agreed.
• "The highest goal in life is to enjoy it as much as possible"—84 percent agreed; 66 percent of Christians agreed.
• "People can believe whatever they want, as long as those beliefs don't affect society"—79 percent agreed; 61 percent of Christians agreed.
• "Any kind of sexual expression between two consenting adults is acceptable"—69 percent agreed; 40 percent of Christians agreed.

Based on these results, David Kinnaman and Gabe Lyons conclude: "The morality of self-fulfillment is everywhere, like the air we breathe. Much of the time we don't even notice we're constantly bombarded with messages that reinforce self-fulfillment—in music, movies, video games, apps, commercials, TV shows, and every other kind of media."

If you go skydiving at the Southwest Florida Skydiving Club in Punta Gorda, Florida, you can count on two things: (1) an exciting experience and (2) the need to follow some basic rules. For instance, before you participate in a dive, your "Jump Master" will give you the following instructions:

• Don't curl up into the fetal position. (You can slip out of your harness.)
• Arch your back and hold your arms out in front of you. (To keep you from slipping out of your harness and to get you flying in the correct position.)
• Stick your legs out in front when landing. (No explanation necessary.)
• Do everything your jump master tells you to do. (Immediately.)
• No pets allowed on your jump.

These are not negotiable, especially if you want to live. They are absolutes.

Now let's imagine another skydiving experience. When you arrive a smiling instructor begins strapping a parachute to your back while walking you toward a plane idling just outside. Over the plane's engine noise the instructor yells, "We here at the Relativist Skydiving School believe there are many ways to get from the plane to the ground. We respect everyone's desire to skydive and we don't believe in absolute rules. Just listen to your inner voice, respond honestly to your feelings, and have a memorable experience. We'll see you when you get down!"

If that was your experience, would you go skydiving? Most people who go skydiving are glad that there are strict, nonnegotiable rules. You can't be a relativist at skydiving. The rules are there for good reason. When we know why the rules are there it helps us embrace them.

The hugely popular board game by Milton Bradley called The Game of Life went through the following variations—all of which reflect the changing values of our culture:

In 1798, before Milton Bradley was born, a board game from England arrived in the U.S. and became popular. It was called The New Game of Human Life. Acquiring virtues sped you through the game while vices slowed you down. Parents were encouraged to play this game with their children. The game's main point was, "Life is a voyage that begins at birth and ends at death. God is at the helm, fate is cruel, and your reward lies beyond the grave."

In 1860, Milton Bradley invented a simple board game and called it The Checkered Game of Life. The good path included Honesty and Bravery. The difficult path included Idleness and Disgrace. Industry and Perseverance led to Wealth and Success. Bradley described it as "A highly moral game … that encourages children to lead exemplary lives and entertains both old and young with the spirit of friendly competition."

In 1960, Milton Bradley Company released a commemorative edition, called simply The Game of Life. It sold 35 million copies. In this game you earn money, buy furniture, and have babies. Vices and virtues are non-existent. The winner of the game is the one who at "Life's Day of Reckoning" makes the most money and retires to Millionaire Acres.

In the 1990s Milton Bradley game designers tried to make the game less about money. They emphasized good deeds like saving an endangered species or solving a pollution problem. However, the only reward for these good deeds is cash. You can earn as much by winning at a reality TV show.

In the 2011 version, players can attend school, travel, start a family, or whatever they want. If they earn enough points, they can reward themselves with a sports car. There is no end or last square to the game. You can stop any time. The box says, "A Thousand Ways to Live Your Life! You Choose." Values are up-for-grabs—you get as many points scuba diving as you get donating a kidney. The description on the website says: "Do whatever it takes to retire in style with the most wealth at the end of the game."

Dorothy Sayers, the mystery writer, was also a devoted Christian. Dorothy Sayers was attempting to explain the moral law of God. She pointed out that in our society there are two kinds of laws. There is the law of the stop sign, and there's the law of the fire. The law of the stop sign is a law that says the traffic is heavy on a certain street, and as a result the police department or the city council decides to erect a stop sign. They also decide that if you run that stop sign, it will cost you $25 or $30 or $35. If the traffic changes, they can up the ante. That is if too many people are running the stop sign, they can make the fine $50 or $75, or if they build a highway around the city, they can take the stop sign down, or reduce the penalty, making it only $10 if you go through. The police department or city council controls the law of the stop sign.

But then she said there is also the law of the fire. And the law of the fire says if you put your hand in the fire, you'll get burned. Now imagine that all of the legislatures of all the nations of the entire world gathered in one great assembly, and they voted unanimously that here on out that fire would no longer burn. The first man or woman who left that assembly and put his or her hand in the fire would discover that the law of the fire is different than the law of the stop sign. Bound up in the nature of fire itself is the penalty for abusing it.

So, Dorothy Sayers says, the moral law of God is like the law of the fire. You never break God's laws; you just break yourself on them. God can't reduce the penalty, because the penalty for breaking the law is bound up in the law itself.

Christian author and speaker Dennis Rainey recounts a story of visiting a clothing store with his 13-year-old daughter. While he was waiting inside the store for his daughter to pick out a sweater, Rainey noticed a life-sized poster of a young man who was completely nude. When Rainey asked to speak to the store's manager, the following conversation ensued:

I shared with him that I had six children and was a good customer; then I said very kindly, "This picture … I'm sorry, but it's just indecent." I thought I'd get agreement.

Instead he quipped, "I beg to differ with you, sir. By whose standards?"

A little stunned by his response, I replied with measured firmness, "By any standard of real morality …. Sir, if that picture is not indecent, then I'd like you to get in a similar pose to that guy in the picture."

He looked at the picture, looked at my daughter, then back at me …. There was a moment of silence, full of anticipation. Then he shook his head and said, "Huh-uh."

I smiled and said, "You know, it's a good thing you didn't drop your pants, because you could have been arrested for indecent exposure."

Then he replied, "If you think that's bad, you should see our catalog."

So I went over and opened the catalog. One photo showed four teenage girls in bed with a boy …. I pushed the catalog back and said, "I'd like you take my name and phone number. I'd like someone from your corporate office to give me a call."

To which he politely said, "Sir, I can take your name and address, but they're not interested. They really don't care what you think."

My response was kind but firm: "I just want you to know I'm only one customer. I'm just a daddy of six kids, but I have a lot of friends. And I want you to know that wherever I go, I'm going to use this episode as an illustration of a company that doesn't care about the future of our young people, their morality, or the future of our nation."

Dennis Rainey concluded this story with a challenge:

One of the greatest lies of our day is that one man, one husband, or one dad can't make a difference. As a single man, you can protect the innocence of a single woman you are dating by being a noble man of character …. As a husband and father, you are the warrior who has been charged with the duty of pushing back against the evil that seeks to prey on your wife, daughters, and sons. Stepping up to courageous manhood starts here. If you don't step up, who will?

In his booklet Absolute Truth, Mark Ashton tells the following story about a professor who demonstrates that moral relativism is unlivable:

Roger Wengert, a philosophy professor at the University of Illinois, often begins his introductory ethics classes by asking how many of the students believe that truth is relative. A show of hands usually reveals that two-thirds to three-fourths of the class thinks in this manner. After discussing the syllabus, testing dates, papers and content of the course, Wengert informs the class that they will be graded according to height. When the smart-alecky tall kid loudly agrees with this system, the professor adds, "Short students get A's; tall students flunk."

Inevitably a student's hand is raised: "Your grading system is not fair." "I am the professor," retorts Wengert. "I can grade however I wish." The student insists, "But what you ought to do is grade us according to how well we learn the material. You should look at our papers and exams to see how well we have understood the content of the course and grade us on that." The class nods in affirmation (especially the tall students).

Professor Wengert then replies, "By using words like should and ought, you betray your alleged conviction that truth is relative. If you were a true relativist, you would realize that there is no external standard to which my grading should conform. If my truth and my ethic lead me to an alternate grading system that you deem inappropriate, c'est la vie! I will grade however I wish."

With a new year just around the corner, most of us are busy scribbling down resolutions. We desire radical change in the way we look, the way we behave, the way we make our living. But if research regarding New Year's resolutions is at all true, most of us will fall short of our goals. Why? In his book Who's Got Your Back?, author Keith Ferrazzi says it's because we too often go it alone when trying to change. Consider the story of Jean Nidetch:

Jean was overweight as a child, she was overweight in high school, and despite endless diet regimens, her waistline kept expanding throughout her twenties and thirties …. [She fit the medical definition of "obese." Jean tried diets and pills that promised to take off the pounds, but she always gained back the weight she lost.

In 1961, at age 38, Jean started a diet sponsored by the New York City Department of Health. After 10 weeks she was 20 pounds lighter, but starting to lose motivation. She realized that what she needed was someone to talk to for some support …

Since she couldn't get her pals to make the trek with her to Manhattan to sign up for the official health department regimen, she brought the "science" of the program to their living rooms in Queens. Jean and her friends would all lose weight together. Out of those first meetings grew Weight Watchers, widely recognized as one of the most effective weight-loss programs in the world. Nidetch's idea was simple: Losing weight requires a combination of dieting and peer support. She held weekly meetings with weight check-ins and goal setting to promote accountability, coupled with honest, supportive conversation about the struggles, setbacks, and victories over losing weight.

Eventually, Nidetch, who'd lost seventy-two pounds, rented office space and started leading groups all across New York City. In 1963 she incorporated. As of 2007, Weight Watchers International had retail sales of over $4 billion from licenses, franchisees, membership fees, exercise programs, cookbooks, portion-controlled food products, and a magazine. Nidetch retired in 1984, leaving behind a legacy that has saved the lives of literally millions of men and women. As the company's current CEO, Dave Kirchhoff notes, "Though the science of weight loss has evolved over the years, the core of Jean's program—support and accountability—has remained constant."

I lived for a time with my friend and mentor John MacMurray, where the first rule is to always tell the truth. John and I were sitting in the family room one night when he asked about my new cell phone.

"I got it free," I told him.

"How did you get it for free?" he asked.

"Well, my other one broke, so I took it in to see if they could replace it. They had this new computer system at the store and they didn't have their records. They didn't know whether mine was still under warranty. It wasn't, I knew, because it was more than a year old. The guy asked me about it, and I told him I didn't know, but it was right around a year. Just a white lie, you know. Anyway, the phone was so messed up they replaced it with a newer model. So, I got a free phone."

"Did you ever see that movie The Family Man with Nicolas Cage?" John asked. "There's this scene where Nicolas Cage walks into a store to get a cup of coffee. And Don Cheadle plays the guy working at the counter. There's a girl in line before Nicolas Cage, and she's buying something for ninety-nine cents, and she hands Cheadle a dollar. Cheadle takes nine dollars out of the till and counts it out, giving her way too much change. She sees that he is handing her way too much money, yet she picks it up and puts it in her pocket without saying a word. As she is walking out the door, Cheadle stops her to give her another chance. He asks her if there is anything else she needs. She shakes her head no and walks out."

"I see what you're getting at, John," I say.

"Let me finish," he says. "So Cheadle looks over at Nicolas Cage, and he says, 'Did you see that? She was willing to sell her character for nine dollars. Nine dollars!'"

After a little while, I spoke up. "Do you think that is what I am doing with the phone? Do you think I am selling my character?" And to be honest, I said this with a smirk.

"I do," John said. "The Bible talks about having a calloused heart. That's when sin, after a period of time, has so deceived us we no longer care whether our thoughts and actions are right or wrong. Our hearts will go there easily, and often over what looks like little things—little white lies. All I am saying to you, as your friend, is, watch for this kind of thing."

I went back to the store the next day. It cost me more than nine dollars, but I got my character back.

—Reprinted from the Catalyst GroupZine Volume 2: The Culture Issue. Copyright © 2006. Used by permission of INJOY & Thomas Nelson Publishers. This article is originally adapted from To Own a Dragon © 2006 by Donald Miller and John MacMurray. Used by permission of NavPress—www.navpress.com. All rights reserved.