True Story:

Circa 1989, I was about 17 years old, sitting in a small town family restaurant with my father. It was one of our many “bachelor” meals out, before I went off to college and he remarried. I sat and ate my meal. It was a hot beef sandwich, if I recall my then favorite dish. Meanwhile, I looked around and observed my surroundings. It was a sizable establishment. The dining areas extended across at least two sections of a strip mall. I noticed that the cash register was on one end, at the main entrance. But we were sitting on the far end, nearer to an alternate exit.

A curious thought occurred to me and I asked my father:

“What prevents someone from just getting up and walking out this exit here without paying their bill?”

My father looked me in the eye. There was a heavy, pregnant pause. And then he said but one word in response to my question:

“Honor.”

Honor. That single word. Granted, the look in his eye said volumes more. The look in his eye conveyed a firm weariness, as if to say, “Son, if you don’t know this by now, I have failed you as a father.” – It was powerful. The memory of it is still vivid in my mind.

Honor is monolithic.

The Lesson

As an adult, I have reflected on this lesson again and again. Here is why my father’s response was so profound:

My father was a preacher. But he didn’t tell me that God was watching. He did not reference the commandment that thou shalt not steal. He didn’t talk about sin or punishment in the afterlife.

Nor did my father lecture me about laws or the risks of running afoul of the police. Indeed, he did not even explore the likelihood of getting caught! – Those notions were immaterial.

The lesson is that honor is monolithic. It stands on its own foundation, independent of threats or consequences or inconveniences.  It’s not a game. There are no loop holes. If you dishonor yourself, then you lack honor. Even if nobody knows! Even if you don’t get caught! It is shameful. Period.

We talk about honor systems. If you borrow something, you return it. If you order a meal, you pay for it. If you collect a paycheck, you work for it. If you make a mistake, you own it. If you are asked for the truth, you tell it. If people around you fail to follow suit – you stay your own course.

I have my ‘Why’…

Furthermore

It’s a weighty proposition. My father, who passed several years ago, lives with me through it. I keep thinking:

Maybe honor isn’t about not doing the wrong thing. Maybe it is about actively doing the right thing.

Why should I pay what I owe? – Honor.

Why should I treat people with respect? – Honor.

Why should I be transparent in my business dealings? – Honor.

Why should I learn from my failures and mend my ways? – Honor.

Why should I care if other people don’t do these same things? – I shouldn’t care. I do these things!

I’m not perfect by any means. Nor was my father perfect. But I don’t make excuses. And I don’t sneak out the back. I have my ‘Why’…

HONOR.