Michael Pritchard

It is certainly understandable, even commendable, that those who provide palliative care consultation services would want to have a better understanding of variables that may affect the quality of care they provide.  Some of this understanding will be acquired “on the job,” as one provides these services—at least by perceptive consultants.  But systematic research is likely to bring other important matters to light, challenge assumptions that might otherwise adversely affect the services offered, and so on.  In short, the recipients of these services can benefit even more from consultants who effectively incorporate research results into their practice.  The sort of research interests that Dr. Menendez has are consistent with her concern to provide the best services she can — and to help others do so as well.

At the same time, she should have some real concerns about whether it is appropriate for her to serve as therapist and researcher for the same clientele, whether individuals or family units.  The informed consent issues raised in Part II of this case illustrate why.  Apparently some primary care physicians, intentionally or inadvertently, have led family members to believe that the quality of service they can expect will be adversely affected by not agreeing to participate in the study.  If this worry is engendered by their primary care physician, who is not providing the therapeutic services in question, it makes good sense to suppose that the therapist/researcher could be seen as equally, if not more, threatening.  Will the therapist/researcher be less interested in those patients, or their family members, who indicate they do not want to participate?  The very fact that patients or family members might worry about this could have a negative affect on the therapeutic relationship they have with Dr. Menendez. 

So, as researcher, Dr. Menendez might restrict her research to patients and their families who are not under her care.  This means that if her own patients and their families are to be participants in the sort of research project she is interested in, another researcher would be needed.  There is still no assurance, of course, that the problem will be solved.  Patients and their families would be informed that, in addition to consulting with their therapist, there will be someone else involved, albeit for research rather than therapeutic purposes.  Will they worry that the therapist and researcher are cooperating with each other in such a way that their therapeutic services will be affected by not participating in the study?

Adding a researcher to the mix may raise other patient and family concerns.  Not only are they expected to discuss sensitive, private matters with a therapist, they are to be observed by a third party, a researcher with whom they have no other relationship.  Aside from causing them discomfort, this might also have a negative affect on the therapeutic relationship by, say, causing them to be more reticent.  If this factor cannot be ruled out, this could also affect the validity of any claims about what goes on between therapist and patient/family that they are not being observed for research purposes — whether by their therapist or a third party. 

There does not seem to be a sure way of totally eliminating such worries about the possible adverse affects of the research on therapeutic services, or worries about the validity of the research data itself.  A point to be emphasized, however, is that special care needs to be taken in regard to informed consent.  Patients and their families need assurances that participating (or not participating) in the research project will not affect the quality of services they will receive.  The scenario in Part II suggests that very little, if any, monitoring of the informed consent process was done in regard to the role of the primary care physicians.  At the very least, this issue should be addressed.  The concern is that undue pressure might have been used on patients and their families, or that this is their perception.  But the concerns do not stop there.  As just pointed out, additional worries about the quality of care provided by the therapist/researcher remain, even if referring physicians handle things very well.

These problems aside, Dr. Menendez, and perhaps her patients as well, would like to have full participation by both patients and family members.  What if one or more of the family members express reluctance to participate, or outright refuse?  Noncoercive efforts to persuade may be appropriate, although it can be very difficult to determine where to draw the line when attempting to persuade the reluctant to join with their already willing family members.  The researcher already has strong allies in this circumstance, unless, of course, there is a history of significant tensions or divisions among family members.  So, additional efforts to recruit family members can easily become a matter of undue pressure.  Dr. Menendez may be disappointed at not gaining the consent of all patients and family members, but this need not be fatal to her project — especially if she is joined in her research efforts by other researchers, thus enlarging the potential pool of participants.

Like most institutions of higher learning, James Bower’s university holds that research done only for educational purposes does not come directly under the purview of the IRB.  However, many such institutions require instructors to submit a statement to the IRB indicating the sorts of research that students will be undertaking.  Although individual protocols are not submitted, this enables the IRB to provide cautionary advice about potentially problematic kinds of research that students might wish to undertake.

As this case illustrates, it is possible that particular research projects undertaken only for educational purposes can nevertheless raise unanticipated, serious problems.  IRBs are designed to protect the rights and welfare of human participants.  However, the protection to which participants are entitled is not confined only to those areas that come directly under the purview of an IRB.  What justification, then, can be given for not requiring research done only for educational purposes to be reviewed by an IRB?  First, administratively, requiring every student to submit a protocol would be very time consuming and require a substantial increase in IRB staffing.  Second, given the relative shortness of the standard semester, it might make it much more difficult for students to complete their research projects.  Third, there may be an assumption that instructors will adequately supervise the research projects undertaken by students and not permit them to place participants at more than minimal risk of harm.  So, we might be tempted to say, some sort of procedural compromise is reasonable.

Nevertheless, this should not come at the expense of protecting human participants in research, whether or not this is undertaken for educational purposes only.  Especially since the researchers are inexperienced undergraduates who are just “learning the ropes” in research, careful monitoring of this research is important. 

In this case, the instructor is a graduate student, who himself seems to be relatively inexperienced. It is disturbing that, although James is teaching under the supervision of Dr. Holden, there is no evidence that this aspect of his teaching has received any supervision.  In fact, it does not seem to have occurred to James that he could consult with Dr. Holden about what sorts of research projects by his students would be acceptable.  Why would James talk only with his fellow graduate students?  Something seems seriously amiss here, and perhaps in the department generally, as other graduate students seem to have proceeded unsupervised as well.

The fact that James does not anticipate the risks posed by his students’s depression survey indicates either his lack of experience or indifference on his part.  What would Dr. Holden have advised?  Had he been consulted, he might well have told James that he should not allow this sort of survey to be conducted, at least not without IRB review.  A worry is that Dr. Holden might actually share the attitude of James’s fellow graduate students — if the research falls outside the purview of the IRB, don’t worry about it.

Meanwhile, the survey is conducted by the undergraduate students, presumably unaware that further responsibilities may fall on their shoulders (and James’s) once they learn the results.  How to proceed once they learn that there may be two students who could use professional help with their depression is a difficult issue.  In an effort to preserve anonymity, James reports to the entire class that several students may be suffering from depression.  “Which ones?” the students might ask.  “We cannot tell you directly,” James would reply.  “But if you reported more than four symptoms of depression, you should contact the university behavioral health center.”  How are the students to determine how many symptoms of depression they reported?  Was the survey so direct?  Did it label the symptoms for the students?  Is it likely that only two students will think that they have identified four or more symptoms?  And will it be the right two students?

Unfortunately, James probably has no experience dealing with situations like this, or even with thinking about them.  One of the functions of an IRB is to help researchers anticipate such problems and settle on a good procedure for dealing with them should they arise.  James has deprived himself of all access to this sort of help by failing to communicate with either his supervisor, Dr. Holden, or the IRB.

However, the fact is that the survey placed undergraduate students at risk of harm.  Consider this as a guiding principle: Even if you are not seeking to contribute to generalizable knowledge in your research, you still need to worry about whether your research places anyone at risk.  Saying that risks to participants matter only when generalizable knowledge is sought makes no moral sense.  So, risks matter even if they do not fall under the direct purview of an IRB.  This seems to imply that Dr. Holden has a responsible role to play in this, but chose not to accept it, negligently ignored it, or was somehow denied the opportunity to assume it. 

At the very least, James should have been informed at the outset by Dr. Holden that he should be given the opportunity to review the sorts of research projects proposed by students.  However, a conscientious IRB would also do its best to make all teachers, professors and graduate students alike, aware of its willingness (and desire) to address questions regarding the protection of human participants in any research involving the institution it is serving.

How, with corporate backing, might engineers who ascribe to Fred Cuny's ideas about effective disaster relief in his book, Disasters and Development, approach the engineering challenges of Katrina?

This is a good question, but a complex one. In general, I'd say that Fred Cuny's basic approach includes trying to be prepared to act quickly and effectively before a disaster strikes. The problem is that it seems they we are so often taken by surprise. In the case of Katrina, hindsight might have told us that the levees put the area at high risk for bad things if they don't hold. And, it seems to me, there were engineers who had issued warnings about their inadequacy. Still, was anyone in a good position to anticipate the magnitude of the disaster that could result from their failure?

Well, suppose that, realistically, we should always expect that sometime or other, some way or other, we will be taken by surprise in disastrous ways--even with our best efforts to take preventive measures. Once disaster strikes, Cuny would say that engineers will be needed. His book on disaster relief (Oxfam/Oxford) focuses mainly on how best to help after disaster strikes. This, he says, requires one to figure out both how to provide assistance & knowledge of what will really count as (long-term) assistance. This latter knowledge, he says, requires knowing how those who are victims see things, what they will be able to do for themselves once the rescuers leave, and so on. For Cuny, quick fixes are like bandaids--something that may be needed in the short run (to keep the bleeding under control). But Cuny was interested in long-term fixes. An understanding of local needs, abilities, etc. is something that one could try to acquire well before disaster strikes. This is because the understanding that is needed is not just of rescue tactics, but of what a community needs when things are going well (after the rescuers have left).

I can't do justice to what Cuny had in mind in short space (after all, he wrote an entire book on this). But it seems that, ideally, good rescue work after disaster strikes requires leadership that is well informed about the life conditions (past, present, and future) of those who might be victimized by disasters (a disproportionate number of whom, unfortunately, typically are already living in poverty, neglect, or in oppressive circumstances). In any case, more than specialized engineering knowledge is needed & there needs to be a readiness to learn about these other matters of importance (as it is unlikely that even someone as conscientious as Cuny would have all the needed knowledge ready-to-hand). Formal, interdisciplinary education may well have a role to play here.

So, what kind of "corporate backing" might be most useful in light of Cuny's approach? Not money for bandaids only, he might have said. Money for educational programs designed to prepare engineers to do effective disaster relief work as engineers might be a good investment. Cuny and his disaster relief agency should not be the exception (as they have been perceived by many, including themselves, to be); they should be more commonplace in the engineering professions. The corporate challenge, then, could be to encourage and support engineering programs that can be expected to give us more engineers who will be ready and able to respond constructively to disasters like Katrina. At the same time, this sort of program could focus on the need for preventive measures, or at least measures likely to reduce the impact of Katrina-like disasters. I hope these comments are at least a little bit helpful, belated and broad as they are.

It might seem that this case is basically about law rather than ethics. Clearly it does raise a number of legal questions. However, there is a strong ethical dimension as well. Derek's desire to adapt the software program to his new job circumstances seems innocent enough. But the fact that his new employer required him to sign a software agreement that what he designs becomes company property should have alerted him to a potential problem. Although Derek did not sign a similar agreement with his previous employer, this does not conclusively settle the question of ownership. Others were involved in the initial design.

At the very least, Derek should have inquired about the ownership matter prior to adapting the software to his purposes. This would not only protect his current employer from a potential law suit (should the previous employer choose to sue), it would also evidence respect for the interests of his previous associates. Carelessly placing one's employer at legal risk is both an ethical and a legal concern. Indifference to the interests of his previous associates is an ethical concern, unless we can assume that Derek is estranged from them (and even if he is, there might have been an implicit understanding about the disposition of the software). After all, Derek is very possibly legally entangling the "lifeblood" of his previous employer, given his current employer's apparent desire to claim ownership of its employees' software designs.

It might be objected that Derek did not know that his new employer would use all means at its disposal to adapt the software system throughout the company. True, but his having to sign an ownership agreement should have put him on alert.

It seems clear from the case that Derek bore no special animosity against his previous employer and associates. Now, to his regret, he has become involved a legal and ethical quagmire. Perhaps a careful investigation of law can clarify the legal rights involved in this case, but the ethical concerns cannot be handled so readily. So, I conclude that Derek should have proceeded with greater caution, heeding the concerns of Horace. A call to his previous employer before adapting the system might have avoided these problems.

Although convinced there may be reason to prefer catalyst B to A, Bernie may also be convinced that deferring to the judgment of the more experienced engineers is the best course of action -- especially in this kind of situation. He may actually be persuaded that the others are probably right. His is a minority view, and he is considerably less experienced. The recommendation apparently cannot wait for further testing. Besides, Alex is Bernie's division head, and Bernie may believe that his job is to do as he is told. So, Bernie may conclude, it is best to support his colleagues' recommendation -- both from the standpoint of Larom, Inc. and his own self-interest.

However, four cautions should be noted from the outset. First, although Bernie may have a general obligation to do what he is told by his superiors, blind or unthinking obedience is not obligatory. He has no obligation to do anything illegal or unethical, regardless of which "authority" requests it. In this case, it is not at all clear that Alex's superiors at Larom would approve of his effort to falsify the report, or that they would fault Bernie for refusing to comply with Alex's request. After all, the report is for them. Why would they willingly agree to be duped -- especially since approving the wrong catalyst could turn out to be very costly to Larom?

Second, Bernie should be alert to the possibility of what sociologist Irving Janis calls groupthink (Groupthink). This is the tendency of cohesive groups to arrive at consensus at the expense of critical thinking. Janis identifies eight "symptoms" of groupthink:

1. The illusion of group invulnerability. ("We've always been right before.")
2. Shared stereotypes. ("We/they" thinking about those outside the group who may disagree -- the other as "enemy.")
3. Rationalizations.
4. Unquestioned belief in the group's inherent morality. ("We're all committed to doing the right thing.")
5. Self-censorship by individual members. (Reluctance to "rock the boat.")
6. The illusion of unanimity. (Silence taken as agreement.)
7. Direct pressure applied to ensure conformity when dissenting opinions are expressed. ("We can't wait forever.")
8. Mind-guarding. (Keeping outsiders who have dissenting views from presenting their views directly to the group -- "I'll pass your concerns on to the group.")

Several of these symptoms seem to be present at the initial meeting. There is evidence that at least some of the senior members of the group share the illusion of invulnerability ("We've been working on projects like this for years...."). Rationalizations for not having done more research on catalyst B follows on the heels of this illusion. Given the shared purpose of recommending the best catalyst for the job, the members may believe in the inherent morality of the group ("We know we're on the right side"). Silence in response to Alex's final look around the room for further comments may be the result of some self-censorship (especially if Bernie fails to speak up). This, in turn, feeds the illusion of unanimity. Finally, Alex's evident desire to orchestrate the group to a quick and decisive resolution indicates a readiness to apply direct pressure to any dissenters. Given that much may be at stake for Larom in this situation, Bernie is well advised to be alert to such group dynamics, rather than simply deferring his more senior colleagues.

Third, Bernie seems to be the only one with evidence that catalyst B might be preferable, and his previous work with catalyst B has already impressed Alex. If he does not speak up, who will? It is unfortunate that Alex did not assign Bernie to work on catalyst B earlier. Perhaps sometime earlier Bernie should have made a special point of discussing with his colleagues some of his previous work with catalyst B. But why didn't Alex take the lead? It seems that an opportunity for significant research when Bernie first joined the R&D Division was lost. However, shifting responsibility to Alex for lacking foresight does not relieve Bernie of responsibility for speaking up now.

Fourth, Bernie is not only asked to suppress data about catalyst B but also to alter the other data. That is, he is asked to lie. Alex no doubt sees this as a lie intended to "protect the truth," since he believes that catalyst A really is best. However, as Sissela Bok convincingly argues, even lies of this sort are ethically questionable (Lying: Moral Choice in Public and Private Life). She points out that we have a tendency to overestimate the good that comes from lying and to underestimate the harm that comes from lying. Individually and collectively lies do much to undermine trust. Also, by deceiving others, lies often lead people to make decisions they would not make if they had more reliable information, thus undermining their autonomy. Bok concludes that we should lie only after looking carefully to see if any alternatives preferable to lying are available.

In general, Dr. Franklin has the same responsibilities to all of his students, including making himself available to them during his office hours. Of course, if a large number of students show up at the same time, he will be unable to accommodate all of them unless he can meet with them in a large group, or a manageable set of smaller groups. If that has not been prearranged (as, say, a group study session), it is unlikely that it will work. So, it may happen on occasion that the attention Franklin needs to give some of his students will result in limiting others' access to him during a given office hour period. Apparently, that is what happened the first time he talked with Jim.

The first meeting with Jim alerted Franklin to serious shortcomings in Jim's understanding of algebra. However, rather than ask Jim what his math background was, thereby alerting Jim that he might not be sufficiently prepared for the course, Franklin "checks Jim's records" (presumably without Jim's knowledge). Especially since Jim's academic transcript is not a public document, it would have been preferable for Franklin to ask Jim directly about his math background. This strategy might have prepared Jim to begin asking himself whether he should continue in the course, a decision he faced later, but only days before the deadline for dropping classes.

Perhaps encouraged by the fact that he was willing to help him for 45 minutes the previous week, Jim returned to Franklin's office the next week with more questions. Given the conclusion he had already drawn about Jim's math skills, if there were others waiting to see Franklin, he might have arranged for another time to meet with Jim. Although one cannot always predict how long a session with a student will last, Franklin might have suspected that another long session with Jim was likely. However, by the end of this second session he should have realized that Jim was a special case that should no longer be allowed to dominate his regular office hours at the expense of his other students.

Certainly by the end of this second session, Franklin should be counseling Jim rather than simply trying to help him solve chemistry problems that require math skills that Jim lacks. Franklin could recommend that Jim seek some math tutoring. Although he should advise Jim about what sorts of math skills he will need, it is not Franklin's responsibility to provide that tutoring himself. (Should he decide to do so anyway, it should not be at the expense of his other students; he should arrange to meet with Jim outside his regular office hours.)

As stated at the outset, in general Franklin has the same responsibilities to all of his students. However, he may have special responsibilities regarding chemistry majors in his class. As a teacher of Quantitative Analysis, he may have a "gatekeeping" role regarding the major itself. No matter how much interest he might have in helping Jim make it through his course successfully, he may also have some responsibility in assessing Jim's ability to complete the major. But, whether or not he has this "gatekeeping"; function, Franklin is in a position to advise students about "what it takes" to be a good student in chemistry. Taking a few minutes to discuss his math deficiencies will alert Jim to the seriousness of this problem for both the Quantitative Analysis course and successfully completing the major.

Unsure about what to do, Franklin talks about Jim's case with his colleague, Dr. Winters. That is a reasonable thing to do. There is no need to mention Jim's name. In fact, Jim is probably not alone in having deficient math skills in the Quantitative Analysis class, even if he is the only one who has come to Franklin for help. Furthermore, it is likely that there will be such students in the future; it is good to develop strategies to help them when their needs become apparent. The alternate plans that Franklin and Winters come up with seem reasonable and responsible. However, it is not clear why Franklin tells Jim that he has the "potential to be a great chemist." Given the essential role of algebraic manipulation in understanding chemistry, this comment seems premature and possibly falsely reassuring.

Presumably the federal grant awarded to Carolyn specifies that a certain percentage of her time will be devoted to research. Without such assurances, the granting agency has no basis for making the award. The grant specifies a certain amount of money that can be used to support Carolyn's research time by buying out some of her teaching time. However, if Carolyn is not afforded time off from some of her teaching in order to do research, the terms of the grant are not being met.

Precisely how the department may expend the money it receives in compensation for relieving Carolyn from some of her teaching responsibilities typically is not specified by the terms of the grant. Hiring adjunct faculty or TAs to replace her in the classroom is certainly an acceptable practice. It is less clear whether using remaining money for student scholarships or staff administrators is permissible . The range of acceptable expenditures is limited, however. Making a down payment on a departmental sailboat, for example, is clearly out-of-bounds.

In any case, if it turns out that Carolyn does not received a reduced teaching load in order to pursue the grant project, the terms of the grant are not being met. Not only Carolyn, but the federal agency as well are being shortchanged. This situation is big trouble for Wilhelm if it becomes known either to the federal agency or his institution's office of research and grants. Of course, in determining whether Carolyn has a reduced teaching load, it is important to know what a normal teaching load is for full professors. This standard may or may not be well defined in an academic institution. Even those institutions with faculty collective bargaining may not have a clear definition of what a "normal" teaching load is. Student advising, supervision of theses, university service, and any number of other activities are typically counted toward meeting a faculty member's required "full time equivalent." Also, how one's teaching load is determined is a function not only of the number of classes one teaches, but also class size, the number of TAs for the class, and the number of credit hours of the class.

What is clear is that a simple averaging of the number of classes taught by faculty members in a given department is not a reliable way of determining the normal course load from which a grant Abuy out" is to be subtracted. If, despite her research grant, Carolyn is teaching more courses than the number usually taught by full professors, she may well wonder whether she is getting the amount of released time from teaching to which she and the federal granting agency are entitled. Given the apparent discrepancies Carolyn has discovered in her survey of her departmental colleagues, Wilhelm had better have a good system of accounting ready to hand. If he does, to minimize further misunderstandings among his colleagues, it would be desirable for him to share this information with them. If he does not, there is trouble ahead. If there is a record of misuse of federal funds, there is both legal and ethical trouble. However, the situation also raises basic ethical issues regarding fair and equitable treatment of colleagues and the provision of ample opportunities for them to pursue their responsibilities as both researchers and teachers.

Insofar as an annual meeting is supported with taxpayers' money, it is important to keep the costs as moderate as possible. A further consideration in favor of moderate expenses is that at least some representation from each center is required by Edward's agency. In this case it seems that the government is paying a large part of the costs of the annual meeting, either directly or indirectly. In addition to covering costs of at least some of the participants' travel and lodging, Edward's agency has to pay for using the meeting facilities themselves. It seems that some of the participants will have their way paid by the research centers they represent. However, since the government generously supports these centers, it could be argued that, at least indirectly, the government is subsidizing the attendance of these representatives. Finally, unless each center is sending 15-20 representatives, it seems that there are many other attendees who will either pay their own way or seek support from someplace other than Edward's agency. Taxpayers' money may still be involved, as public university travel funds might be used as well.

Whether holding the meeting at a four-star hotel incurs immoderate expenses very much depends on the terms of the contract Edward has accepted. Discounts for the use of the facilities and group rates for lodging could add up to considerable savings. It is also possible that, in order to keep down the costs wherever the meeting is held, it is necessary to have several hundred in attendance. Having an attractive facility may be an important way of attracting those who are not required to attend. A similar argument might be used to justify holding the meeting in Washington, D.C., a rather expensive locale in general, rather than a less popular location.

Good hotel service is an important ingredient for a successful meeting, particularly when it involves hundreds of participants. If it could be shown that anything less than a four-star hotel could not provide good service for such a large number, that would support staying at a four-star hotel. In this case it is asserted that there are several more "economical options" around D.C. Assuming that these options can provide good service, that is an argument in favor of Edward's decision to change the meeting location. However, he should make sure that that is the case. Further, Edward needs to consider transportation costs to the "more economical" options.

Another factor to consider is the proximity of the meeting location to other places attendees (and those who may accompany them) might find of interest during their stay in D.C., including places to dine, places to visit, and other interesting activities or events. Although not part of the meeting itself, these features can weigh heavily in determining whether attendees will be satisfied with the total experience of coming to D.C. for the meeting.

After taking all relevant factors into consideration, if Edward can find satisfactory accommodations at less cost, the decision to change locations makes good sense, both economically and ethically. The change may be desirable even if, all things considered, expenses associated with the four-star hotel are not actually immoderate, but only somewhat more costly.

If Dr. Conway has submitted the paper, listing Elizabeth as first author without her even knowing that the paper had been written, something is seriously wrong. Conway cannot have any justification for submitting this paper without Elizabeth's knowledge or consent. Furthermore, it seems that Elizabeth has good reason for doubting that her data is ready for use in a publication. If that is the case, Conway is putting Elizabeth at some risk as a credible researcher, and he may be contributing to a misleading, if not mistaken, path of future research that relies on this paper. Nevertheless, it would be a good idea for Elizabeth to talk with Conway before going to the department head or another member of the faculty. Rather than being overtly confrontational, she can ask him about how the paper came to be written, why she is listed as first author (or listed at all), and whether this practice is common. She can express her concerns about the inclusion of preliminary data.

Elizabeth may find Conway's responses to be completely unsatisfactory. However, if and when she goes to the department head or some other appropriate person in her institution, she will be able to report his account of the matter. Anticipating that she might well take her concerns to another level, Conway may withdraw the submission, agree that his decision to go ahead with the paper was unwise, or even apologize to Elizabeth for what he has (and has not) done. However, it is unlikely that this response would end the matter for her. She still has to face the question of whether Conway should continue to be her thesis research adviser. Even with his apology, she may have good reason to be uncomfortable having him as her adviser. Furthermore, she may wonder whether, if she keeps things to herself, he might continue to treat his other advisees in this way.

At some point it will be important for Elizabeth to be able to confer with someone else about her situation. It should be someone she can trust and someone who is in a position to give her meaningful support should Conway try to create difficulties for her graduate life, and possibly even for her career prospects. It is to be hoped that someone in her department will be able to play this role B if not the department chair, someone on the faculty who is in a good position to provide support. A worst case possibility would be that what Conway has done is commonly accepted practice in the department. In that unlikely event, it would be best for Elizabeth to leave the program entirely.

In any case, Elizabeth would still be well advised to do her best to prevent the paper from being published with her name on it. Whether she should do more is a good question. The answer may depend, in part, on whether removing her name from the paper would also include removing reliance on the data she has collected. However, quite apart from whether Elizabeth might have an obligation to carry matters further, it seems that she would be justified in doing so if she chooses to. It is difficult to imagine what explanation Conway might come up with that could justify his conduct thus far, and any threatening or retaliatory measures on his part would only make the case worse for him. Sadly, it could also make it worse for Elizabeth; but at least she would have the consolation that her complaints are just.

1. Are Santiago's standards unreasonable? Is Patton's work ethic lacking?

It is difficult to answer these questions without further probing. Apparently, Santiago and Patton would answer each of these questions differently. Santiago: "My standards are reasonable; Patton needs to work harder." Patton: "Santiago's standards are unreasonable. It shouldn't take me another couple of years to have a publishable paper; my work ethic is fine."

Two strategies might help resolve these differences. First, a conversation between Santiago and Patton, in which they actually discuss their differences, might be helpful. The case presents no evidence of their having such a conversation. However, for this conversation to be helpful, it cannot simply be a confrontational meeting. Santiago questions Patton's dedication (too many vacations and extracurricular activities). Patton questions Santiago's motivation (she wants Patton around longer as an assistant because she does not seem able to recruit new assistants). If Santiago is right, Patton has little basis for complaint. If Patton is right, Santiago is exploiting Patton. A meeting in which they confront each other with their suspicions is unlikely to help them move ahead constructively (at least not together). However, a meeting in which they seek a meeting of minds on how Patton might best complete her degree program could have good results and might even dissolve their mutual suspicions.

Second, at this point Patton's thesis committee is involved; perhaps committee members can play a mediating role. The committee is convinced that Patton is a strong candidate. Perhaps a meeting involving Patton, Santiago and at least one other member of the committee could help put a more constructive spin on the situation. Given their mutual suspicions, Patton and Santiago may not be able to move ahead without the mediation of others.

2. How could an institution prevent such situations? How can a department or institution encourage good adviser/student relationships?

As long as the basic communication about expectations and requirements is only one-to-one (adviser to advisee), such situations can easily occur. Meetings and workshops on program aims and requirements can help promote understanding among faculty and students alike. When students and faculty are left on their own to work out these matters one-on-one, it should be no surprise to find misunderstandings and suspicions. Does the department have any say about what reasonable standards are? Is there any discussion about how best to help students meet these standards? Are there candid discussions with students about how much work it takes to complete a program in a timely fashion? Are students fully informed about the publication restraints that accompany industrial collaboration?

3. What are Santiago's obligations to her students' careers?

I prefer to phrase this question somewhat differently: What are Santiago's obligations to help her students in the course of their degree programs? I would tie these obligations to the institution in which she is working, the quality of program her department is seeking to maintain, and the institution's and department's obligations to its students generally. Within that framework, Santiago has an obligation to provide opportunities and encouragement for Patton to do the best work she can. If Santiago does not want to publish Patton's work because she feels it will not benefit her own career, she seems to have things the wrong way around.

Santiago's basic question should be whether her standards are reasonable (and not just in her own eyes, but from the standpoint of her department), and whether Patton is satisfying them. If the bar is too high for Patton, what should be done? Perhaps the bar should be lowered. But departmental standards are for all students, not just for Patton. The question of reasonable standards should not be settled by Santiago alone, Patton alone or even Santiago and Patton together. Again, it is important that others be involved in the issue between Santiago and Patton.

4. What about the relevance of industrial collaboration to Santiago and Patton's work?

It is difficult to answer this question in the abstract. Certainly is it possible for researchers to become involved in industrial collaboration in ways that compromise their commitments to the university and/or their students. However, that problem does not require outright refusal to become involved in such collaborations. At the same time, students need to be fully informed about the limitations that will be placed on their own research should they join in such collaborations - and they should be informed about the implications of collaborative research before they agree to participate.

I will discuss this case independently of any legal considerations. That is, I will focus only on ethical issues that can be framed without specific regard for copyright, patent law and the like. The legal issues may be important, and they may have a bearing on some of the ethical issues. However, it seems to me that the case raises ethical issues worth addressing prior to engaging legal questions.

Why does the Department of Paper Engineering hold weekly seminars for faculty and graduate students? Presumably, this practice is intended for the mutual edification of faculty and students and to support of one another's research efforts: a "win-win" idea. This time it was Bill Phillips's turn to share his ideas with others and to benefit from their comments.

At first glance, there seems to be nothing unethical about Tom Ackley attending Bill Phillips's session. In fact, as a graduate student in the department, his attendance is probably expected. However, the manner in which he conducted himself at the meeting was contrary to the express purpose of the seminar meetings, viz., the open discussion of new ideas. It is perhaps understandable that Ackley would not want to share his ideas about ink interaction with paper at this time, as his work in this area was in an early phase. Actively discouraging discussion of the possible implications of Philips's work is another matter, however. Such behavior is contrary to the spirit of the seminar series. Had others realized what he was doing, they would have rightly objected. Not only was Ackley refusing to contribute to the discussion of Phillips's ideas, he was trying to prevent much of that discussion.

If Ackley had planned all along to discourage open discussion of Phillips's ideas, then he probably should not have attended the meeting. If Ackley formed his plan of action only after the meeting began, further reflection should have led him either to leave the meeting or keep silent. Positive interference was not justified from an ethical point of view, however personally advantageous Ackley might have thought it would be.

It is not entirely clear how far along Ackley was in his own research on ink interaction prior to the seminar. Nor is it clear to what extent Ackley has already been helped in his research by working with graduate students and faculty and by using university equipment. However, at some point in this story it seems obvious that Ackley is benefiting from the ideas (and perhaps equipment) of others. As a matter of fairness, and as an acknowledgment of the contributions of others, Ackley should let Phillips (and perhaps others) know of his interest in Phillips's work. Whether further considerations of fairness would suggest that Phillips's permission is required for Ackley to refine Phillips's test method depends on details that are not presented in this case. However, at the very least, Ackley should have been open with Phillips about the importance of his work for Ackley's ideas. Instead, Ackley chose to operate in secret.

Reciprocity is a form of fair play from an ethical point of view. Ackley falls far short of the mark at every level, beginning with his behavior in the seminar and continuing into his conduct in his employment at Trees-R-Us. In short, he has not been a good colleague in the Department of Paper Engineering.

An interesting question to consider is whether his employer would approve of Ackley's handling of this matter. That, of course, depends on what sorts of ethical values are embraced at Trees-R-Us, but it also depends on the sorts of risks his company is willing to take in order to get ahead. (Here legal considerations could easily come into play, particularly in regard to ownership of ideas.) Is it reasonable for Ackley to assume that his employer would approve of his tactics? Is Ackley the sort of engineer that Trees-R-Us wants to employ?

Even if Trees-R-Us benefits in this particular case, can Ackley be relied on to be a reliable employee? Trees-R-Us encourages the publication of novel findings and new techniques. Can Ackley be expected to treat Trees-R-Us any differently than he has treated his colleagues in the Department of Paper Engineering? How will Ackley treat Trees-R-Us when he is looking for another job? Long-range doubts about Ackley could easily outweigh the short-term gains from his ink penetration work. Quite apart from legal worries about Ackley's conduct, I conclude that his attitude and behavior leave much to be desired from an ethical point of view, whether from the perspective of Bill Phillips, the Department of Paper Engineering or even Trees-R-Us.

In this case, it is very important to sort out the ethical questions facing Deborah and more general questions about what would be a desirable outcome. If, in fact, a second story was added to the house and it is the desire of the church, its new owner, to preserve the house in as close to its original form as possible, then removal of the newer section of the house would be a desirable outcome. Furthermore, if the background information about the motivations of previous owners of the house is reliable, we might add that justice is on the side of the church as well. However, as a graduate researcher and consultant in the field of historic preservation, Deborah must focus more specifically on her role in this controversy.

It is noted that "the preservation code clearly indicates that unalterable changes should not be recommended unless there is clear evidence." The rationale for this provision would seem to be that once an unalterable change is made, there is no going back. That is, if it turns out that the unalterable change is a mistake, the preservation project fails in a fundamental respect. In the present case, if the second story is destroyed and it later is confirmed that it was part of the original house, the effort to preserve the house in its original form fails. So, recommending the removal of the second story is a matter of crucial importance for the preservation project.

The case also indicates that, absent Henry's testimony, Deborah does not have enough evidence to recommend demolition. Should Deborah include his remarks to her in making her assessment? This question can be approached from two vantage points. The first focuses solely on the evidence; the second focuses on Deborah's relationship with Henry and the likely consequences of including his remarks in her considerations. I will explore these in turn.

Will the inclusion of Henry's remarks make the evidence strong enough to recommend removal of the second story? Here, I think, it is important to distinguish what Deborah believes is the case from the strength of available evidence. Given the rapport between Deborah and Henry, it is likely that Deborah believes that Henry is being truthful with her. Whether this means she also believes he is accurately recalling what his mother said is another matter. It is possible that Henry, though well-intentioned and sincere, has a mistaken memory. It seems important for Deborah to try to look at matters from the perspective of a preservationist who has not had a personal relationship with Henry. She could go to her adviser to discuss the question of evidence. She need not identify Henry as someone who has confided in her. She can put her questions quite hypothetically: "If someone in the family were to tell me privately that he or she had good reason to believe that a second story was added, could that count as strong evidence in favor of the hypothesis that a second story was, in fact, added? How would this claim be affected by the denials of other family members? Does it matter whether the family member would be willing to make his or her statement publicly?"

My guess, but it is only that, is that her adviser would say that the family member's remarks should not be regarded as evidence in themselves. However, they might well provide one with strong motivation to search for additional physical evidence that the second story was added to the original house. Absent further physical evidence, demolition of the second story should not be recommended. The adviser could also point out that, if clear evidence appears later, the second story can be removed. But if it is removed now and clear evidence shows up confirming that it was part of the original house, the mistake could not be undone.

In making her assessment, Deborah should also consider including Henry's remarks from the vantage point of her relationship with him and the likely consequences of relying on his statement in making her recommendation. As noted, absent Henry's statement, the evidence is not sufficient to warrant recommending the removal of the second story. If she allows Henry's remarks to affect her recommendation but keeps Henry's remarks confidential, she will not be able to show others that a recommendation to remove the second story is sound. However, I have also suggested that even the inclusion of his remarks will not, by itself, warrant this recommendation.

Given these facts, it seems inappropriate for Deborah to reveal Henry's remarks to others. He requested confidentiality. Although he is not Deborah"s "client," respecting someone's request for confidentiality carries some moral weight in itself. Even when one cannot appeal to a professional code of ethics for support, confidentiality should not be breeched without good reason. A likely consequence of making Henry's remarks public would be the sort of breakdown in communication and relationships predicted in the concluding paragraph of the narrative.

Deborah might be disappointed with the conclusion that she should not recommend the demolition of the second story of the house, but she should not view this conclusion as necessarily ending the matter. Her report should include not only the final recommendation, but also the reasoning that led to the recommendation. Assuming that there is some evidence that the second story was not part of the original structure, she certainly can include that evidence in her report. Not recommending that the second story be demolished is not equivalent to strongly recommending that large sums of money be invested in preserving the second story - or, at least, not in a way that could not be undone should stronger evidence show up later.

Susan Landers is asked to recommend the best site for a transportation facility, based on considerations of cost and public need. Then she is asked to reconsider her data and mathematical model because her initial results do not match the Mayor's wish to please a certain constituency. Lamont hopes that either the data or the model can be "adjusted" in a way that will make a credible case for favoring the Mayor's preferred site.

However minor the "adjustments" might turn out to be, it seems that Lamont is urging Landers to "do the math backwards." That is, she is encouraged to make either the numbers or the model work in favor of a desired conclusion. Landers worries that this action might compromise her commitment to the "health, safety, and welfare of the public." It might, but she should have another worry. Engineers are also supposed to be committed to honesty and impartiality in their work. This expectation requires Landers to do her calculations independently of the outcome she (or the Mayor) desires.

Lamont is trying to persuade her that it will be all right to let the desired conclusion guide her calculations to at least some degree. This attitude is evident in his suggestion that Landers take another look at the model: "Maybe there is a way to refine it a little more, or perhaps there are some assumptions or parameters that can be changed a little. A model is just that - a model. It's certainly not the same as reality. If there were just some way to keep the Mayor happy, I really think it would turn out well for our department in the long run." Lamont's first three sentences seem acceptable. However, his last sentence makes clear that, in this context, they are offered as part of a rationalization rather than a justification. What basis would Lamont suggest for altering the data or the model? The only reason he offers is that the changes might enable Landers to recommend the Belmont site, which would not only please the Mayor but might also bring more business to the department. This choice, it should be noted, has no special relevance to Landers's original objective of determining, which site would be best, on the basis of cost and public need.

Philip is even less subtle than Lamont. He emphasizes Lander's advantage over the public. She can tinker with the data or the model in ways that will produce "a better result" without raising any suspicion of data manipulation. But "better result" here has no clear connection with the "health, safety, and welfare of the public," Landers's original concern. It does have a clear connection with honesty or impartiality, however - it is contrary to both.

It is possible that Landers could succeed in just the way Lamont and Philip suggest. This case illustrates why ethicist William F. May is so concerned about the moral character of professionals and experts. May says of experts, "Few may be in a position to discredit [them]. The knowledge explosion is also an ignorance explosion; if knowledge is power, then ignorance is powerlessness."William F. May, "Professional Virtues and Self-Regulation" in Joan Callahan, ed., Ethical Issues in Professional Life (Oxford, England: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 408. He continues: "One test of character and virtue is what a person does when no one is watching. A society that rests on expertise needs more people who can pass that test."Ibid. Philip is suggesting that no one is watching Landers, which is probably true. But May's point is that we are expected to trust the judgment of professionals and experts. Lamont and Philip are encouraging Landers to compromise that trust.

May is right to urge otherwise. It may be that even the Mayor would urge otherwise. Of course, the Mayor would be happy to bring forward an honest and impartial recommendation for the Belmont site. Would she also be happy to bring forward a dishonest recommendation, even one that could fool the public? Evidently, the Mayor asked for Landers's expert judgment. She might hope that Belmont would get the nod. But she might be very unhappy to learn that Landers rigged the results. The Mayor could hardly publicly acknowledge that she wants engineers to manipulate data or models in providing services to the city. We have been given no evidence that that is her private view either. So, if she does manipulate either the data or the mathematical model, Landers will violate professional standards, public standards, and quite possibly the standards of the Mayor.

There is one more important consideration. In deciding what to do, Landers may be tempted to think only of this case. However, from the standpoint of ethical justification, it is important for her to think of this case in conjunction with relevantly similar cases. If it is acceptable for her to manipulate the data or model in this case, then it is acceptable to act likewise in all relevantly similar cases - acceptable not only for Landers to do so, but for others as well.This requirement for justification is commonly endorsed, not only in everyday moral reasoning, but also in moral philosophy. See, e.g., the influential writings of Immanuel Kant, Henry Sidgwick, R. M. Hare, and Marcus G. Singer. If Landers thinks through the implications of generalizing in this way, it is unlikely that she will be able, in good conscience, to follow Lamont and Philip's suggestions.

This case raises a number of very important ethical issues for graduate students and their faculty advisers and mentors. For graduate students, it raises questions about what, in good conscience, they commit themselves to as researchers. For faculty, it raises questions about their responsibilities in advising and mentoring their graduate students. All of this is complicated by two basic factors: 1) Graduate education is a period of transition that invites careful reflection on one's future aspirations, both professionally and personally. 2) Graduate education is a social enterprise that, to some extent, requires students to adapt to a context of inquiry and vocation that is not entirely of their own making.

The first factor is evident in Ann's situation. At the very time that she is undertaking her graduate studies, she is reflecting on her basic values and commitments. The second factor comes into play when Ann realizes that the particular religious perspective to which she finds herself attracted is not one she can assume is widely shared by those in her chosen field of study, let alone in society generally. Regardless of how convinced she may be that the engineering profession for which she is preparing ought to share her values, she cannot reasonably expect that profession to adopt her particular perspective. Rather, she must determine whether she, in good conscience, can fit into a profession that embraces a great diversity of views on matters of fundamental importance to individual professionals, and to society in general. That does not mean that members of the engineering profession share no common moral ground, but it does mean that Ann must realize that this common ground will not be a common religious ground. Virtually any profession can be expected to accept freedom of (even from) religion.

At the same time, advisers and mentors of graduate students need to realize that their students are in the process of sorting out their personal and professional priorities. A professional code of ethics provides a value framework within which members of a profession are expected to operate. However, at best, a code of ethics will express the highest common denominator that may be applied to members. It cannot be expected to do justice to everything that matters morally to individuals in their professional lives. So, although Ann should not expect the engineering profession to endorse pacifism as a moral requirement, it is reasonable for her to expect her advisers and mentors to help her determine to what extent engineering can endorse her right not to participate in engineering research that opposes her pacifism. Nevertheless, for this expectation to be reasonable, she must be forthcoming enough that her advisers and mentors are able to understand that she does have pacifist concerns.

A further complication in Ann's case is that she does not come to understand her own pacifist stance until she is already in her graduate engineering program. Once she does understand it, she still needs to do a lot of sorting out of what she can, in good conscience, undertake as an engineering student. It does not follow as a matter of course for pacifists that they must reject involvement in projects that could have military applications as well as civilian ones. Pacifists can debate this issue among themselves, as well as with nonpacifists. How the arguments might go for Ann need not be determined here.

What should be clear, however, is that advisers and mentors have a responsibility to encourage their students to wrestle with questions of personal and social responsibility in engineering before they have crossed a threshold that might compromise their integrity.

At this point we can ask how well Ann and Doe have done in meeting their responsibilities. At their initial interview, Ann gave no indication to Doe that she might have scruples about working on projects that could have military applications. Doe gave no indication that among the grants he was pursuing, at least some would be sponsored by the military. It might never have occurred to Ann that the sorts of projects Doe described could have military applications. It might never have occurred to Doe that Ann would have any scruples about working on projects that could have military applications; after all, links between engineering and the military are commonplace. In retrospect, however, both Ann and Doe might wish they had been more forthcoming in that first interview. This is a lesson both can apply to the future.

By the end of the first year of graduate study, Ann sees things differently than when she began. In addition to studying engineering, she has been studying religion, particularly Christianity. Now she has questions that perhaps she was not prepared to ask a year earlier. At the same time, Doe has received a grant relevant to Ann's research interests, the soft photovoltaic. Fortunately, Doe identifies the Air Force as sponsor. Ann then asks questions about the possible applications of this research and wonders whether she should join Doe in working on the Air Force grant.

At this point, Ann and Doe do not seem to have entered into a contractual relationship, either verbal or implicit. How they might proceed from here is yet to be determined. Given Ann's concerns, it is very important that she and Doe communicate as openly as possible about what Ann's role might be. In the end, Ann might decide that she cannot, in good conscience, join Doe in this project. However, if she does agree to join him, this agreement should be based on a clear, mutual understanding of what can be expected from each other. In his desire to have Ann join him, Doe should not deliberately hold back information that might give her reason to turn down the opportunity. Ann, in turn, should not conceal from Doe convictions she has that might dampen his enthusiasm for joining him.

Should Ann and Doe agree that she will work with him on the project, their moral expectations from one another change in fundamental ways. Obligations will have been taken on. There will be a commitment of time, energy, and money. Thus, it is very important that their mutual understanding be as clear as possible before crossing this line.

None of this discussion goes directly to the question of what decision Ann should make about whether to work on this grant. It addresses only the question of what should precede that decision. A reflective student will take on the responsibility of trying to resolve tensions between personal convictions and professional commitments. That is what Ann is doing as she goes home. She may benefit from talking further with others - others who share her moral and religious convictions, as well as Doe or other engineering faculty and students. Ultimately, she must decide what she is or is not willing to do. Doe should be willing to offer further help, should Ann seek it. He can also attempt to influence her decision making by overtly or subtly threatening to make life difficult for her as a student at Engineering University should she decline his offer. He should not do that.

This case illustrates the importance of encouraging engineering students to try to think though larger questions about the social responsibilities they will have as engineers. This, I believe, is a vital part of meeting the ABET requirement that engineering programs should familiarize students with the ethical dimensions of the profession they are about to enter.ABET is the acronym for the Accreditation Board for Engineering and Technology. This board establishes criteria that must be satisfied if an engineering program is to be fully accredited. For a full statement of ABET requirements, see http://www.abet.org/EAC/each2000.html. This effort requires more than acquainting them with engineering codes of ethics. It also requires encouraging students to think carefully about how good a fit there is between what matters to them as moral agents and what an engineering career might entail.

I will address this commentary to the graduate student who is serving on the department's graduate admissions committee. Understandably, you feel that you are in an uncomfortable position. However, it may be helpful to sort out issues you do not need to address from those you do. One issue you do not need to address is whether there should be a special fellowship program for minority applicants. This program has been approved by your institution, as has the number of such fellowships for your department. Even if others (or you in another capacity) wish to challenge this program, that is not your present task. As a member of the committee, your task is to determine who, under the present guidelines, should be admitted to the graduate program and to identify potential candidates for the minority fellowship program.

Your first specific task is to assist the committee in making its admissions decisions. I think it is important to separate this task from that of making recommendations for the fellowship. Professor Belman is right in saying that if students are not fully qualified for the academic rigors of a doctoral degree, they should not be admitted, regardless of minority status. For her, apparently that settles the issue: Neither Lambert Motowi nor Rodney Williams is fully qualified. For you, however, the matter may not be so clear.

As a committee member, it is your responsibility to make your own judgment about whether Lambert and Rodney are capable of succeeding in the program. That may not be an easy matter to determine, but it must be done - and with a steady eye on factors that are important for academic success at the Ph.D. level. Unfortunately, some members of your committee seem to be making it more difficult to stay focused on only those factors. Professors Wilson and Ahuja apparently are convinced that Lambert's (but not Rodney's) academic record is sufficient for admission. However, Professor Ahuja's comment ("It would be a waste to let that fellowship money go") may raise the question of whether the opportunity for financial support is clouding judgment about the adequacy of Lambert's academic record. You must postpone the issue of "waste" until you have rendered your judgment about qualifications for academic work.

Professor Harris's comments also pose difficulties. It is not clear whether he opposes both admitting Lambert and awarding him a fellowship. Since admission is likely to lead to a fellowship award, Harris may be opposing admission primarily because he opposes awarding the fellowship to Lambert. Harris's opposition to awarding the fellowship to someone who has faced little racial discrimination raises the question of what is really driving his opposition to admitting Lambert. Harris is making two assumptions. First, he is assuming that Lambert has not suffered significant racial discrimination, and this assumption may not be true. Second, he is assuming that the presence or absence of such suffering on the part of the specific applicants (the "restoration" factor) is a key criterion for the fellowships. It is very unlikely that this is one of the stated criteria for minority fellowships, as such a standard would greatly complicate the evaluative process. In any case, even if the awarding of a fellowship is likely once a minority candidate is admitted, the candidate's qualifications should be considered independently of the fellowship opportunity.

It is also possible that Harris favors Rodney because Rodney has expressed a strong interest in working with Harris. (It is also possible that Harris believes neither candidate should be admitted.) It would be unfortunate if Harris is opposing Lambert's admission because he favors Rodney over Lambert in regard to the fellowship. As I have already indicated, it is important that the judgment of academic qualifications should not be clouded by the fellowship opportunity.

It may be your judgment that both should be admitted. If both are admitted, then the issue of who should get the fellowship can be considered. If your judgment is that neither should be admitted, then, if others agree, the fellowship issue becomes moot.

Since the discussion seems to mix considerations of academic potential with issues about fellowship criteria, perhaps the most useful role you can play at this point is a clarifying one. Without suggesting that any of the faculty have suspect motives for denying admission to Lambert or Rodney, you could suggest that the committee postpone consideration of the fellowship issue until admission decisions are made. To that extent, you will be siding with Professor Belman's view that academic standards should be preserved. If you share her view that neither Lambert nor Rodney is fully qualified, then you should recommend against their admission. If you disagree with her judgment on the candidates, then you argue their cases. Clearly indicating to others that you think the first order of business is to separate the qualification and fellowship issues might actually change the focus of the discussion. Others may join you in trying to make a separate assessment of academic qualifications.

Assuming you adopt the stance outlined above, it seems to me that your problems can be redefined. You have rendered your judgment about the qualifications of the candidates. The committee now makes its admission decisions, taking into consideration what you have said only about qualifications. (You are silent about your fellowship recommendations at this point). If, despite your efforts, the committee as a whole does not separate the qualification issue from the fellowship issues, at least you will have performed responsibly. If neither candidate is admitted, then you have nothing further to do.

If only Rodney is admitted, then Harris will support the fellowship award. Perhaps the others will, too. If two support and two do not, you may be thrown into a tie-breaking role - but only if you remain silent until the others have cast their lot. If you enter fully into discussion of the intent of the fellowship program, there is no more reason to think of yourself as the tie-breaker than any other committee member. I can see no good reason for waiting until the others have made their positions evident. In fact, as a responsible participant you should be helping to shape the discussion as it goes, not simply casting the tie-breaking vote.

It seems unlikely that the committee would vote to admit Rodney but not offer the fellowship. In that case, sharing an office or bench with Rodney would pose no special problems for you. If only Lambert were admitted, he would probably be awarded the fellowship, too. It is stated that Lambert's citizenship does qualify him as a fellowship candidate, assuming he is admitted. Even if Harris still opposes awarding the fellowship to Lambert, it is quite possible that Belman would become convinced that Lambert is qualified to pursue the doctoral degree. You would not be the deciding vote in that case. If Belman remained opposed, then your vote would swing matters one way or the other. That is a decision you would have to live with, but it is not clear why this outcome should pose any special problems for you. If you ended up sharing an office or bench with Lambert, his not having a fellowship would not be the result of your decision alone. In any case, there is no reason for you to discuss the deliberative process with. (In fact, the specifics of that process would presumably be confidential.)

Finally, if both were admitted, then full attention would quite appropriately turn to the fellowship opportunity. Here you could enter into the discussion from the outset, expressing your views about the candidates' respective qualifications and the apparent intent of the program. Again, there is no reason to view yourself as occupying the tie-breaker's role unless you allow yourself to play a passive, wait-and-see role -- an arguably less than fully responsible role as a committee member. You are one vote among five.

In conclusion, you must resist the temptation to view yourself as being the one who might tilt the balance one way or another. All of the committee members could view themselves in that way, in which case there would be five wait-and-see members, thus rendering the committee ineffective in performing its task. It is an honor to serve on such a committee. It is also a responsibility. The responsibility is to serve on the committee as an equal, not as a possible tie-breaker when the others are divided equally on an issue. In the end, you may find yourself sharing an office or bench with someone you either supported or rejected. The same is true of the faculty. However, anxieties or hopes about such outcomes should not be the driving force behind one's decisions about these matters.