5 Reasons to Carry a Moral Compass

All politicians lie. A lot of people believe that with good reason.

But it’s not fair to generalize, and whether many or most or all politicians — or none — lie habitually, it’s not provable.

Then there’s Trump. A different case altogether. Most of us know he’s a pathological liar, and simple fact-checking proves it: as president, he’s made 29,508 “false or misleading claims” as of November 5, 2020, according to The Washington Post.

It’s not like lying is anything new or unusual. I’ve lied. You’ve lied. We all have, even if rarely, and it’s unrealistic to expect anyone in political office to absolutely never lie.

Of course they shouldn’t. We shouldn’t. But we do, whether outright or by withholding the truth.

Which brings me to my point.

I value someone with integrity far more than the non-existent person who has never lied, whether by omission or commission. Someone who strives to do “the right thing” even when nobody is watching. Someone who follows moral standards and guidelines and seeks a higher truth.

I don’t mean a religious person, although religious beliefs may come into play. I mean someone who applies principles across all areas of life.

Defining morality or principles is not my goal here; I think it’s safe to assume we share an understanding of general elements of morality: Honesty, compassion, fairness, respect, dependability, tolerance, humility, responsibility, and others.

Instead, I offer personal experience and an article I wrote a few years back.

I used to lie. A lot. As a teenager, I told some pretty tall tales. In retrospect, I understand why: I was insecure and felt I had nothing interesting to share with friends, nothing to talk about like they did. I don’t recall specifics, but I remember sudden confusion and getting snagged. What did I say before? Did I tell this story like that? Did I already tell her something else? What was it? Oh, no . . .

I was horrified. Paralyzed, almost, with a fear of being found out. And from that day forward, I worked on being scrupulously honest because I’d rather be boring than go through that again.

Since then, I’ve found other reasons to be honest — it’s easier, for starters. Plus it generally gets better results, depending on the situation and, perhaps, how much tact or sensitivity is blended in.

I’ve worked on other moral questions, as well. And while I’m not a role model anyone should follow, I think I have a fairly good grasp of morality and integrity, in myself and others.

And that’s what I look for in a politician. Integrity. Emotional maturity. Someone who follows a moral compass. Someone who will apply those guidelines in all facets of his or her position.

If you don’t have rules to follow, you rely on emotions. And how you feel about something does not a good decision make.

This morning, I took advantage of warmth and sunshine to do some early spring clean-up in my front lawn.

Back in the fall, I should have cut back my tall ornamental grasses. Now they were nothing more than a mass of stubby, dried-out clumps, their long stalks blown around the neighborhood by winter winds.

It was time to take care of business.

I raked and picked up in my neighbor’s yard first, all the while hoping they wouldn’t come home.

The relationship has been strained. I don’t know what’s going on, but their attitude toward me had long since gone into negative territory, and for my own peace of mind I’ve kept a polite distance.

I’ve felt a little hurt and annoyed, but that doesn’t mean it’s OK for my ornamental grasses to be scattered like hay all over their lawn.

A small part of me didn’t feel like doing them any favors. But this wasn’t a favor — it was a responsibility. The dried-out grass stalks were mine, and that meant it was my responsibility to clean it up.

Very simple. Cut and dried.

I hope we’ll be friendly once again, but meanwhile I might as well keep things as peaceful as possible.

Following my moral compass is a big help.

I often depend on it.

A few years ago, a different neighbor expressed surprise and gratitude that I responded in an understanding way when he complained, hesitantly, about my bamboo popping up in his yard. He thought I’d be upset or angry and give him a hard time.

Why should I be angry? I’d been meaning to install a barrier to keep the invasive roots of my little bamboo stand from spreading, but I was too late. It was my responsibility.

Again, cut and dried. I hopped over the fence, dug up the roots, smoothed out the soil, and replanted grass in the neighbor’s yard. I also installed the root barrier on my side. If I was upset with anyone, it was myself for having let it go so long.

I keep my compass close wherever I go, even while driving.

My compass says it’s not OK to yell at people or curse at them; instead, I want to be compassionate. This keeps me in line when someone lays on the horn and flips a finger at me for tardiness after the light turns green or other perceived offenses.

This doesn’t mean I don’t feel like giving someone a finger or an earful sometimes, or that I haven’t ever. Far from it. But I got tired of getting upset with other drivers, even when they make a careless move or cut me off. It’s not worth it.

Knowing my ground rules keeps peace in my life even during stressful times.

I admit it’s hard to keep the compass pointing due north when a situation involves someone close to me, someone who can hurt me far deeper than any neighbor ever could.

But even though I don’t always follow it perfectly, my moral compass stops me from going down a path to nowhere — doing or saying something I’d truly regret.

And it also protects me from others who aren’t following the same kind of compass that I follow.

Do you carry a moral compass?

I don’t mean a list of rules and regulations based on religion, traditional morality, or rules your parents instilled in you that you follow blindly, though many of those guidelines are great.

I mean a custom-designed, uniquely-your-own, tailored-to-fit moral compass that you lean on when the going gets tough.

Some of the direction points on my compass look like this:

• Respect others no matter who they are and expect the same from them
• Be helpful to others and ask for help when I need it
• Honor promises and obligations, and apologize when I can’t
• Stick with honesty and expect the same from others
• Acknowledge, validate or say thanks — whether in person or online
• Assume goodness in others and know they’re doing their best
• Remove myself when someone’s best isn’t in my best interest

I’ve worked out other guidelines in different categories — public life, friends, close relationships — but you get the idea. I don’t always live up to them as well as I might, but if I’m lost, I know how to find my way again.

It’s all about practice.

Here are five reasons to carry a moral compass.

1. A moral compass provides guidelines in tricky situations.

Let’s say you’re on a date with someone you hardly know. He’s a little pushy. Or she’s getting too physical too soon. You want to slow things down, but how? You like him or her, but . . .

Your moral compass can give you the confidence to speak up or end the date if necessary.

2. A moral compass can make up for shortcomings.

Let’s say you’re traveling and get lost in a small town where you don’t speak the language — and nobody speaks yours. What do you do?

If courtesy, humility, and respect are part of your compass, locals will be far more willing to help than if you’re angry, critical, and complaining. Of course, drawing pictures and gesturing helps, too. But even if you are (understandably) frustrated, relying on your moral compass will get you on your way sooner than venting your emotions on the unsuspecting townsfolk.

3. A moral compass can keep love alive.

In any close relationship, conflicts happen. Lovers get hurt, partners get defensive, children get angry. Deciding on “the right thing” to do, no matter how difficult, can mean the difference between a screaming blame-fest or weeks of silence and a conflict peacefully resolved in a way that works for everyone.

4. A moral compass can protect you.

My moral compass says it’s not OK to be rude to me, lie to me, speak disrespectfully to me, or treat me poorly in any way, especially not as a pattern or without explanation or discussion. This is often called “setting boundaries,” and it gives me the confidence to speak up or step back — or even out.

5. A moral compass can help your business flourish.

Morality in business? Sure. Whether it’s called business ethics or a moral compass, what company can survive with unfriendly, unhelpful customer service? How long do employees last, assuming they have a choice, if management belittles them, treats them unfairly, lies, or makes unethical decisions? I’ve heard Steve Jobs was near impossible to work with, but the rewards must have offset the difficulties.

Back to the neighbors and my errant grass stalks turning their lawn into a hay field.

Maybe they didn’t notice. Or didn’t care. It doesn’t matter. I know I’m doing my small part in being a good neighbor.

Doing the “right thing” never hurts, and it might help.

But if I didn’t keep my moral compass in my pocket, I might say, “Oh, to heck with it. They’ve been rude to me, so why should I be nice to them?”

But why feed the flames?

I like my neighborhood, and though it’s not always Pleasantville, my moral compass keeps it from becoming Nastyville. At least on my side of the street.

I don’t know whether “all politicians lie” or to what degree (excluding Donald Trump). I’m not aware of a study that’s been done on the subject.

I do know that plenty don’t follow a moral compass. Think Trump and lawmakers like Ted Cruz who have supported his fraudulent election claims.

But some do. I just spotted this on CNN, and while I know nothing about Rep. Herrera-Beutler, it’s a perfect example of following a moral compass.

Rep. Jaime Herrera-Beutler, a Republican from Washington, said “I’m not in fear at all,” over whether her vote to impeach President Trump would have consequences.

“This is definitely the most, I think, consequential vote I’ve ever taken as a member,” she told CNN, “and see, more than anything, I just, I just want people to know this isn’t about choosing sides, this is about choosing truth.”

5 Crucial Reasons to Carry a Moral Compass originally appeared in Good Life Zen.