'Roundtable Ethics' features University faculty members answering ethical and moral questions solicited from the community. The questions may range from personal to academic in nature. The 'Prince' hopes that the column will spark campus dialogue.
This week's columnist, Rabbi James S. Diamond is Director of the Center for Jewish Life and also teaches in the Jewish Studies Program.
How does Princeton University reflect its motto "under God she flourishes?" As a now-secularized institution, what is the justification for maintaining a religious motto?
This question articulates a dilemma that lies at the heart of Princeton's existence and identity — and not only Princeton's: what is the relationship between the university's secular present and its religious past?
At the present time, the worldview that obtains in the life of this institution, in its culture and in the mode of discourse and inquiry in its classrooms, is secular. The motto, however, bespeaks a time when Princeton was a place to educate Christian clergymen.
Today on this campus, and on many others like it, the secular worldview is privileged over the religious, and so there is a disconnect between institutional history and present reality. If Princeton is indeed to "flourish under God," then the religionist perspective in the life of the mind should be rehabilitated and placed in parity alongside the secular. If such a project is too radical or problematical to consider, or is otherwise undesirable, as I think it is, then the secular identity and institutional ideology of Princeton needs to be held up in its verbal logo, and a more intellectually honest motto needs to be devised. In the current context the motto pays lip service to the past and deploys God as a verbal ornament and cultural window dressing.
Is buying a $6,000 shower curtain ever justifiable? Is there any objective standard by which one item can be termed an extravagance and another a valid purchase?
If the floors, carpets, and walls surrounding the shower were worth hundreds of thousands of dollars, then I suppose a $6,000 shower curtain makes sense.
It could even be a bargain. But what about when the shower curtain costs more than the whole bathroom?
It all depends on how much disposable income the one who buys the shower curtain has, and on how he/she wants to use it. If the buyer is a billionaire and is also a committed philanthropist, well maybe the shower curtain is a trifle. But if the buyer's children are going hungry, are undernourished and underclothed, and the buyer still feels that he/she must have that shower curtain – that's a problem.

Likewise if the putative buyer really desires that shower curtain and her/his children are well fed and clothed, and the buyer is oblivious to the fact that there are other children who are hungry and cold or needy — that's also a problem, if not for the spender then for our society.
The question in its larger sense points to some fundamental hang-ups and muddles about money that prevail in our society. In general I believe that American culture obsesses about money more than any other culture in the world. The real question here is: what's money for? Is it a means to an end or an end in itself? Are people in this country defined by money? And if so, are they defined by how much of it they make or accumulate, or by how they use it?
In the long run I think money is like time and sex: it can ennoble us and it can debase us. It is available to us for deserved self-gratification and also for undeserved self-indulgence. We can use it to purchase pleasure for ourselves and also to bring pleasure and benefit to others. How we use it, though, will always be subjectively determined and contingent on many variables. Perhaps the current and prospective bear market will foster a more realistic and humanistic perspective on these matters.
When I tell my parents some things, I often find that I'm hiding things from them, even though I don't do anything 'wrong' or anything that I'm ashamed of. Am I failing to honor my parents when I do this?
Where is it written that honoring one's parents means that you have to tell them everything? They don't tell you everything. Now if you were flunking out of Princeton or were diagnosed with a serious illness – sure, you'd tell them. But short of that, what you share with them is at your discretion. It's a judgment call. And it's not always an easy call. That's the tough part of being on your own at college.
However I'm wondering if your language about "hiding things from them" doesn't betray an implicit sense of unease, even guilt, about something you are not telling your parents. Why do you "often" feel this way?
In sum, honoring parents is a heavy duty matter. It involves many tasks and responsibilities. But it's not clear to me that they have to — or want to — know everything you could possibly tell them. The challenge of constantly having to make moral discriminations is the price we pay for being responsible, autonomous adults.
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