Sully'd Ethics

Remember Captain Chesley Sullenberger, hero of New York?

Now, normally, you would expect this blog post to be about his recently discovered coke habit, or those prostitutes he murdered back in the 80s. Why bring up a hero again if not to tear him back down? Travesty can be so satisfying, as can backlash. Hence my misleading photoshop.

But instead I'm going to talk about ethics. Zach and I have discussed this a few times, and Zach's main theme has been that Sullenberger is not a hero -- or at least did not deserve the hyperbole of the time -- because he was "just doing his job."

This much is true. Sullenberger did no more than his duty. He gave up nothing, made no extraordinary sacrifice. Had circumstances required that Sullenberger die to save the lives of his passengers, there could be no question of his heroism. But there was no call for that. It's possible that Sullenberger landed the plane purely for his own survival, and we cannot speak to his motives with certainty. By becoming a pilot, he agreed to take responsibility for all those on the plane. It is only the difficult circumstances he was placed in that separate him from other pilots.

On the other hand, he did no less than his duty. When put to the test, he proved he was capable of fulfilling it. Certainly, no fault can be found with his behavior. And this, it seems clear, led in a large part to his media popularity. It is much easier to celebrate the conclusively, concretely proven than the abstract. It may well be that Sullenberger is not of exceptional skill -- but I think this plays a part as well. There is a certain hunger for reassurance in air travel, where the passenger has no control. The "Miracle on the Hudson" would seem to demonstrate that the faith we have in pilots is not misplaced, and they are all dedicated, courageous men and women. But we only have the one concrete example, who receives all the praise that is due to the anonymous pilot. My other suspicion is that, as a society, we find it easier to celebrate great skill than heroism in the altruistic sense. Note the profound warping of ethics around figures in sports -- and the feverish denunciations when they break some normally insignificant taboo.

And yet, Sullenberger deserves more ethical credit for "just doing his job" than does the average third-baseman. A commercial pilot does take responsibility for thousands of lives over the course of a year, and this should be respected. I don't mean to overly dramaticize this -- commercial aviation is extremely safe, and any of us takes up a similar duty when driving a car. The ethical significance is not really in the landing of the plane, but in the willingness to take up and the ability to carry out the duty. It is only a twist of fate that Sullenberger was put in situation to demonstrate this. Although from what we now know of him, he does seem to be especially knowledgeable and qualified -- top pilot in his class, master's degree, speaker for safety organizations. All this is not without merit, and it does give a certain unshakeable feeling that precidely the right person was called upon to save the day.

And in an almost-too-pat-to-be-believed coincidence, Sullenberger is reported to have lost a book on professional ethics when the plane went down -- which he then reported dutifully to the library from which he borrowed it. If you can wrap your brain around that one, it does speak rather highly of his conscientiousness.

And this is more or less a long-winded attempt to say that yes, he deserves praise, but probably not much more than any of a legion of less-easily-noticed heroes. Like they say, the squeaky wheel gets the parade. And sometimes the squeaky wheel is an indication that you won't be able to lower the landing gear, forcing a hair-raising, two-fisted belly landing. The metaphor gets a bit confused here, but my point stands.

On a slightly tangential point, I'm inclined to think that most really heroic figures can't conceive of it as anything other than "doing their job." If one is secure in one's morals, there is a strong sense that one has no choice to do otherwise. There is plenty of room for doubt and temptation, of course, but the rubber band always snap back. Obviously, I have a very obligation-centered view of ethics, and make no claims to heroism (and don't trust anyone who would), but that is my sense of how it ought to work.

Of course, the most ethical thing you can do now is to scroll down the page and read Alex's hip-hop post, if you haven't already -- Unless doing so would prevent you from saving that busload of third-graders from that tank of sharks. In that case, use your own best judgement.