The Educated Conscience

It was past midnight, everyone awake in student housing. Ike sat with feet on the desk, leaning back, confident. "I did it, you know, finally educated my conscience."

Leaning on the doorway, I had to ask: "What does that mean?"

He: "Don't feel guilty at all, not a twinge. Total sexual freedom."

Me: "Really?"

Final word: "You bet!"

Well, not quite the final word. Next month there was the announcement - unexpected pregnancy! Then, a quick marriage. Then, out of grad school, career off-track, two unhappy folks in a dysfunctional moment/relationship. No guilt. And no future.

As old as Adam and Eve - when you're feeling selfish, just re-define it until you're feeling good about it! The problem, of course, is that it doesn't work. Didn't. Doesn't. Won't. Ever.

Take, for example, conservation. Suppose someone says, "Save the forest", but you want the paychecks to continue with no break. Re-naming gets started. A few paychecks make it to the surface, but soon the forest shrinks. In the Big Thicket of eastern Texas, enormous yellow pine trees and magnificent oaks provided material for a strong ship-building industry. There's no long-leaf yellow pine now, and no oak except the scrubby stuff used by the paper mill. And there's never a check, either. Some long-forgotten logger got maybe 12 more checks, but the forest basically went away.

I wonder - educated conscience or self-sustaining conscience - which really feels better, in the long haul?