Cheating seems to come up in the news at regular intervals now. The most recent, a story which has just broken, involved the military. The AP reports this morning:
In a new twist to a widening tale of ethical lapses in the military, the Navy is investigating cheating allegations against about one-fifth of its trainers at a school for naval nuclear power reactor operators.
This follows on a story about officers at Malmstrom Air Force Base, near Great Falls, Montana, who cheated in monthly tests to determine their ability to launch missiles in the event of war. The details of these story aren't nearly as astonishing as the simple fact that people in charge of nuclear weapons and nuclear reactors have thought it was fine to cheat to get into positions of enormous responsibility -- positions they may not, as a result, be qualified to hold. Last year, similar reports emerged about the Ivy League. In a survey of 1,300 incoming Harvard students, nearly half of them admitted to cheating on homework in high school. (The good news: Only ten percent said they'd cheated on tests, which is lower than the numbers that emerged in 2012.) The simple conclusion was: "How do you get into Harvard? You cheat."
In 2012, I wrote here about cheating scandals, both in the Ivy League and at other schools. This seems to confirm that little has changed in the attitude young people bring to academics and to the rest of their lives: If dishonesty helps you to get ahead, and you can get away with it, all's fair in the game of life. It's disheartening to think this is the case, to say the least, and I have little doubt that the reality is far from this. A writer for the Los Angeles Times put it scathingly: "Better lock up your 401 (k)s while you can, fellow Americans. In four years or so, the Unethical Men and Woman of Cambridge are coming for your assets."
I sympathize with these sentiments and, up to a point, I agree. As I said in a previous post, most wrongdoing is founded on some kind of dishonesty, and cheating is dishonest. Yes, parents may not be sending strong messages about what's right and wrong, but you don't need your parents to tell you dishonesty is wrong. You know it. Dishonesty destroys trust, and without trust, society collapses.
But, as I said a year ago, the reality uncovered by the Harvard survey may be more complicated and less dire that it at first appears. Many of those who "admitted" to cheating in high school on homework could simply have been asking for editing help from friends, or those who were better informed. In other words, they were doing research, simply trying to produce the best possible answer, in ways that would be perfectly acceptable in another setting. They were encouraged by their professors to collaborate in their homework, in order to learn a subject more effectively, and then, when they took this advice and received help, they were categorized as "cheaters."
In other words, according to this argument, the behavior these students considered cheating actually involved the sort of teamwork most workplaces require now. Yet every student, in his or her heart, knows whether or not they have done genuine research and asked for feedback -- and then produced their own response to a question. They also know when they have simply copied and plagiarized someone else's words or thoughts.
It's encouraging to read that over the past year, Harvard has done a decent job of responding to last year's cheating scandal. Professors are far more explicit about ethical standards; students are now instructed on what constitutes teaching during freshman orientation, and the school put into writing an honor code for all students.
Last year, students who were suspended for cheating in 2012 were returning to campus, chastened and quietly resuming their studies. They were willing to talk to reporters, but only if journalists agreed not to identify them. That evidence of shame represents a good sign, doesn't it? They deserve a chance to start over -- and to put the past behind them -- but it's heartening to know that they realize what they did was wrong. Standards of honesty haven't completely disappeared. We all know what's right. Opportunities to act in dishonest ways, the temptations to cheat, may have multiplied, but those who know they've cheated -- and if you cheat, you know it -- are actually ashamed.
In the end, anyone who cheats almost always looses. Cheaters get caught: In our society, eventually, it seems, there are no secrets. Cheaters lose trust. They lose credibility. They lose the ability to form lasting relationships. Doing right and doing good is not simply virtuous, it's the only way the world can actually work, in the long run. It's the foundation of fulfillment, success, and happiness.
Peter Georgescu is the author of The Constant Choice. Follow him on Twitter.