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Professional
Responsibility

McCoy's Parable of the Sadhu
I have often wondered whether students of lawyer ethics might not be
as well advised to study the ethics of doctors, nurses, businessmen, and
journalists, as they are to study the ethics of lawyers. If ordinary morality
is going to have a place in the world of lawyering, we are going to need
an ethics (and ethic) that reaches beyond the profession.
The stories that provide the most powerful moral lessons are sometimes
about lawyers and sometimes not. Bowen McCoy is an American businessman.
He tells a story in the Harvard Business Review about his efforts to traverse
and 18,000-foot peak in the Himalayas and an encounter with a holy man
that might be of interest to lawyers. [Bowen H. McCoy,
61 (5) The Parable of the Sadhu, Harvard Business Review 103 (September/October,
1983)]. It was during his preparation for a final ascent of this
Himalayan peak that he encountered a near-naked holy man--a sadhu--suffering
from hypothermia and found himself facing a classic moral dilemma. Bowen
McCoy is a Wall Street realty executive, not a lawyer, but when he talks
about ethics he talks a language we can all understand.
In "The Parable of the Sadhu," McCoy describes the efforts
of he and his companion, Stephen, an anthropologist, accompanied by a
group of climbers, to traverse an 18,000-foot peak in order to reach the
village of Muklinath, an ancient holy place. The peak was the highest
mountain pass they had attempted to traverse in a sixty-day hike. Six
years earlier, McCoy had attempted a similar climb and had been forced
back by altitude sickness. The weather they now faced was not good and
McCoy feared they would not make it over the pass.
At 15,500 feet, it looked to me as if Stephen were shuffling and staggering
a bit, which are symptoms of altitude sickness . . . . I felt strong,
my adrenaline was flowing, but I was very concerned about my ultimate
ability to get across. A couple of our porters were suffering from the
height, and Pasang, our Sherpa sirdar (leader), was worried.
Just after daybreak, while we rested at 15,500 feet, one of the New
Zealanders, who had gone ahead, came staggering down toward us with
a body slung across his shoulders. He dumped the almost naked, barefoot
body of an Indian holy man--a sadhu--at my feet. He had found the pilgrim
lying on the ice, shivering and suffering from hypothermia. I cradled
the sadhu's head and laid him on the rocks. The New Zealander was angry.
He wanted to get across the pass before the bright sun melted the snow.
He said. "Look, I've done what I can. You have porters and sherpa
guides. You care for him. We're going on!" He turned and went back
up the mountain to join his friends.
I took a carotid pulse and found that the sadhu was still alive. We
figured he had probably visited the holy shrines at Muklinath and was
on his way home. It was fruitless to question why he had chosen this
desperately high route instead of the safe, heavily traveled caravan
route through the Kali Gandaki gorge. Or why he was almost naked and
with no shoes, or how long he had been lying in the pass. The answers
weren't going to solve our problem.
Stephen and the four Swiss began stripping off outer clothing and opening
their packs. The sadhu was soon clothed from head to foot. He was not
able to walk, but he was very much alive. I looked down the mountain
and spotted below the Japanese climbers marching up with a horse.
Without a great deal of thought, I told Stephen and Pasang that I was
concerned about withstanding the heights to come and wanted to get over
the pass. I took off after several of our porters who had gone ahead.
The steep part of the ascent where, if the ice steps had given way,
I would have slid down about 3.000 feet, I felt vertigo. I stopped for
a breather, allowing the Swiss to catch up with me. I inquired about
the sadhu and Stephen. They said that the sadhu was fine and that Stephen
was just behind. I set off again for the summit.
Stephen arrived at the summit an hour after I did. Still exhilarated
by victory, I ran down the snow slope to congratulate him. He was suffering
from altitude sickness, walking 15 steps, then stopping, walking 15
steps, then stopping. Pasang accompanied him all the way up. When I
reached them, Stephen glared at me and said: "How do you feel about
contributing to the death of a fellow man?"
I did not fully comprehend what he meant. "Is the sadhu dead?"
I inquired.
"No," replied Stephen, "but he surely will be!"
After I had gone, and the Swiss had departed not long after, Stephen
had remained with the sadhu. When the Japanese had arrived, Stephen
had asked to use their horse to transport the sadhu down to the hut.
They had refused. He had then asked Pasang to have a group of our porters
carry the sadhu. Pasang had resisted the idea, saying that the porters
would have to exert all their energy to get themselves over the pass.
He had thought they could not carry a man down 1,000 feet to the hut,
reclimb the slope, and get across safely before the snow melted. Pasang
had pressed Stephen not to delay any longer. The Sherpas had carried
the sadhu down to a rock in the sun at about 15,000 feet and had pointed
out the hut another 500 feet below. The Japanese had given him food
and drink. When they had last seen him he was listlessly throwing rocks
at the Japanese party's dog, which had frightened him.
We do not know if the sadhu lived or died. [McCoy,
at 104]
McCoy explains that he was deeply troubled by his decision to leave the
sadhu behind after providing minimal care. The mountain ascent was not,
McCoy now admits, as important as he assumed while he was on the mountain.
He puzzles over his failure to provide more care for the sadhu. McCoy's
parable, not unlike those found in the Bible, has a moral message, but
parables don't serve up their messages in flashing lights. McCoy tries
to figure out what he has learned and how it can be understood and given
practical meaning.
McCoy tries, along with the reader, to figure out what that message is
and how it can be understand and how it can be given practical meaning.
McCoy's parable is a teaching story. It unfolds as McCoy reflects on
his encounter with the sadhu. It is a story that illustrates how our purposes,
morally neutral in one context blind us to the needs of others, and paradoxically,
our own needs as well.
McCoy's raises a question most relevant to lawyers who assume that in
the zealous representation of a client they have no duty to avoid harm
to those who cross their path while acting on behalf of their client.
Do I follow through on my goal of getting over the mountain or give up
that goal to help another human being? If we have some duty to care for
others, then how is it that we so easily walk past them?
McCoy begins to see that he had a duty to provide better care for the
sadhu. He puzzles over the fact that his ethics failed him in his encounter
with the sadhu. Even more puzzling is that Stephen, a "committed
Quaker with deep moral vision" who saw the moral situation in a way
McCoy did not, was also ineffectual. [McCoy, at 104].
It was, says McCoy, Stephen's moral vision that helped him know, in ways
that he did not, that they had a duty to care for the sadhu, and that
whatever reason they might have for continuing the climb was morally insufficient
to abandon the sadhu. Stephen claims that they had failed to provide adequate
care for the sadhu and attributed their failure to an unwillingness to
assume personal responsibility in past because the sadhu was so unlike
themselves in appearance. [Id. at 104-106]
McCoy, trying to draw out the lessons from the encounter with the sadhu
suggests that it is the mistakes we make about purposes and goals that
block our moral vision. McCoy recounts a previous trip to Nepal in which
he had "lived in a Sherpa home in the Khumbu, for five days recovering
from altitude sickness" and that one of Stephen's most memorable
experiences in a previous Nepal visit had been "an invitation to
participate in a family funeral ceremony in Manang. Neither experience
had [anything] to do with climbing high passes of the Himalayas."
[Id. at 108]. McCoy notes that these unexpected
experiences were not part of their reasons for being in Nepal and wonders
"why" they had been so adamant about getting over the mountain
when it was the unexpected and unplanned for experiences that had been
most meaningful to them. A good question for lawyers!
Wayne Brazil, a former law teacher and now a Federal magistrate, provides
another story about those we pass along the way.
I was walking one morning from the commuter train station to school.
I encountered one of those dirty, hapless, vaguely threatening people
whose presence gives the Tenderloin section of San Francisco its special
charm. To make my story easier to tell I'll call him Archie.
My first reaction to Archie was fear, but that's not particularly remarkable,
because my first reaction to almost everything is fear. My second reaction
was more noteworthy. It was a crisp sense of indignation. I was moralistic,
condemning him (silently, of course) for being in the state he was in,
for not working, for not seizing control over his life and earning the
money to pay his own way.
Then, before these feelings had played themselves out, I became self-conscious
about the way I was reacting. I began to think about the distance that
seemed to separate me and Archie. It occurred to me that I really had
no understanding at all of him or his situation. I had no idea what
forces had been at work in his life, what limitations God or history
had imposed on him. I had no idea whether he had the capacity to be
anything other than what he was--whether he had that morning, or ever
had, any meaningful control over his fate.
As I became more self-conscious about my ignorance I also became more
embarrassed by my initial moralistic and condescending reaction.
I realized that my reaction had been born in the gulf that separated
me and Archie--and that that reaction was graphic evidence about how
wide that gulf had become.
I began to think about the many different ways the distance between
me and the Archies of the world has grown in the last several years.
As I have worked hard to succeed and to contribute, I have become more
specialized, and more sophisticated in my speciality. And I have spent
almost all of my time with comparably specialized and sophisticated
people.
The hard work that has brought me material comfort and professional
achievement has made me tired, and tired o being tired. So I have become
much less patient with people who don't seem to be trying as hard, or
who appear to rely on others to meet even their most basic needs.
In short, I have become preoccupied with my struggle to do better and
with what that struggle has cost me. And in the preoccupation I have
permitted self-serving, moralistic assumptions to displace the more
open-minded concern about people like Archie that I once felt.
This train of thought led to the perception that troubled me the most;
just as the situational distance between me and Archie has grown largest,
my empathy--my impulse to try to understand him--has been evaporating.
Pretty heavy stuff to be pondering on a summer morning. There was one
more thing. As an erstwhile historian it occurred to me that I probably
was not the only person who had drifted in these emotional directions
during the last decade. It was the spectre of many people who occupy
positions like mine moving in emotional directions like this that inspired
[this reflection on] ... deterioration in our sense of community. [Wayne
Brazil, Reflections on Community, Responsibility, and Legal Education,
9 J. Leg. Prof. 93 (1984)]
Brazil explains his disdain for Archie, the street person, by juxtaposing
Archie's apparent failure in life to the success he had achieved. Brazil's
success brought "material comfort and professional achievement,"
but it had also brought him weariness. Brazil says he has become "preoccupied"
with his own struggle, a preoccupation that resulted in "self-serving,
moralistic assumptions" about the homeless Archie. Like McCoy, Brazil's
work has sanctioned if it has not prompted an erosion of empathy, or what
Maxine Greene would call moral imagination. [Greene's
theory of "moral imagination," found throughout her work, is
explored in two essays, "The New Freedom and the Moral Life"
and "Wide-Awakeness and the Moral Life," in Maxine Greene, Landscapes
of Learning 147-157, 42-52 (New York: Teachers College Press, 1978)].
Brazil suggests that his, and by implication, McCoy's story, reflect the
"emotional direction" we have been traveling during the last
decade.
There are many stories like McCoy's and Brazil's, stories about the driving,
zealous energy we bring to our pursuits, an energy, drive, and purposefulness
that can, barring caution and reflection, blind us to the care we could
provide others. More truthful about our own stories than we tend to be,
we could each tell a story about choices we have made, like McCoy's and
Brazil's, in which we fail to see the moral situation we are in, and when
we do, try desperately to justify the choices we have made. McCoy's and
Brazil's stories, are made still more complex by the existence of our
own stories, and the way these stories find their way into our efforts
to study the moral lessons offered by McCoy and Brazil. Stories add up.
Our stories matter. Stories matter and have power not because we talk
about them as we do or because we extract moral lessons from them, but
by the more infinitely subtle process of shaping our imagination and anchoring
us against the undertow of an unbounded adversarial zeal that teaches
that we need not care for others.

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