Many ethicists argue that contract theory offers the most promising strategy for regulating risks. I challenge the adequacy of the contractualist approach for evaluating the complicated, novel risks associated with some structured financial products, particularly focusing on risks to third parties. Structured financial products like collateralized debt obligations (CDOs) divide a pool of financial assets into risk “tranches” organized from least to most risky. Investors purchase various tranches based on their individual risk-and-return preferences. Whereas contract theory holds that investment risks are ethically permitted (roughly) when everyone—including both parties directly involved in the investments and third parties—consents to them, structured financial products like CDOs show that even risks to which everyone consents are ethically problematic when they involve systemic risks of ruin.

In a recent paper Allen Buchanan makes a basic distinction between two types of ethical problems which arise in business: “genuine ethical dilemmas, in which the problem is to discover what one ought to do, when two or more valid ethical duties (or values or principles) conflict, and compliance problems, which occur when one knows what one’s moral obligations are, but experiences difficulty in fulfilling them due to pressures of self-interest or loyalty to group or organization.” Buchanan argues that most business ethicists believe that this simple dichotomy is exhaustive. He claims it is not and argues that there is a third area of concern that involves perfecting imperfect duties, or coming to “have definite ethical duties, where before there were at best vague ethical goals.” However, I wish to argue that there is a further area of concern in business ethics and this area does not involve deciding between competing moral principles, values etc, attempting to comply with known principles, or imparting determinate content to vague, non-specific imperfect principles of obligation (the subject of Buchanan’s recent paper). This sort of problem occurs frequently in the third world in circumstances in which the agent entirely fails to recognize the normative structure that underpins the considered options.

This article uses Arndt's depiction of marketing epistemology to suggest a possible explanation for the lack of emphasis on marketing ethics within the marketing literature. While a growing number of writers are turning their attention to the area, marketing's heavy reliance on logical empiricism has contributed to a disinclination in the development of this area. Only through recent and numerous revelations of misconduct has the discipline of marketing responded to its ethical dimensions.

Solomon’s article and Binmore’s response exemplify a standard exchange between the game theorist and those critical of applying game theory to ethics. The critic of game theory lists a number of problems with game theory and the game theorist responds by arguing that the critic’s objections are based on a misrepresentation of the theory. Binmore claims that the game theorist is in the position of the innocent man who, when asked why he beats his wife, must explain that he doesn’t beat his wife at all (Binmore, 2). However, even if we agree that the denial is true, we might still like to know why, if you are not beating your wife, do others consistently accuse you of doing so? Or, to get away from this rather sexist metaphor, why are critics of game theory like Solomon (according to game theorists) consistently getting game theory wrong?

While, as I argue in the first section, critics of game theory such as Solomon may misrepresent game theory, this misrepresentation is not entirely their own fault. The way in which game theory is traditionally presented is misleading. For example, students are usually first introduced to game theory through the prisoner’s dilemma. It is compelling drama, but lousy PR for the use of ethics in game theory. (You want to know what to do? Let’s see how two thieves reason.) However, while Binmore is right to argue that game theory neither assumes nor entails the theory of human nature that Solomon finds objectionable, Solomon is also right to argue that game theory is promulgated and applied with what appear to be a robust set of assumptions about human motivation. I argue in the second section, however, that in fact neither these applications of game theory, nor game theory itself, is committed to a particular theory of human motivation. Thus, while game theory is not able to provide a complete ethical theory (assuming that a theory of human motivation is essential to such a theory), it is not contrary to ethics. In the final section I note that Aristotle, rather than being the alternative to using game theory in business ethics, as Solomon suggests, actually points the way to an ethical theory that can combine a discussion of both game theory and “those nagging and controversial questions about what it is that people do and ought to care about” (Solomon, 7).

The business case constitutes an important instrumental motive for corporate social responsibility (CSR), but its relationship with other moral and relational motives remains controversial. In this article, we examine the articulation of motives for CSR among different stakeholders in Germany historically. On the basis of reports of German business associations, state agencies, unions, and nongovernmental organizations from 1970 to 2014, we show how the business case came to be a dominant motive for CSR by acting as a coalition magnet: the vocabulary was used strategically by key policy entrepreneurs, while being ambiguous for flexible interpretations by different stakeholders, and thereby growing in attractiveness. As a resulting discourse coalition emerged among business, state, and civil society actors, the moral and relational motives for CSR became increasingly marginalized. The article offers a new approach to studying motives and contributes to understanding the complementary or competing nature of different motives for CSR.

Despite significant scientific uncertainties and strong public opposition, there appears to be an “iron triangle” of industry, government, and consultants/contractors promoting the siting of the world’s first permanent geological repository for high-level nuclear waste and spent fuel, proposed for Yucca Mountain, Nevada. Arguing that representatives of this iron triangle have ignored important epistemological and ethical difficulties with the proposed facility, I conclude that the business climate surrounding this triangle appears to leave little room for consideration of ethical issues related to public safety, environmental welfare, and citizen consent to risk. If my analysis of the Yucca Mountain case is correct and typical, then some of the most pressing questions of business ethics may concern how to break the iron triangle or, at least, how to expand it into a quadrilateral that includes the public.

For a number of reasons, Fr. Haughey answers “yes,” to the question in his title. “The object of many workplace loyalties seems to be changing from a person-centered focus…to a cause-centered or common good or public interest focus” (p. 22).

The idea of a change in the object of loyalty raises a number of interesting issues. The end of individual hero-worship seems appealing: to give love and loyalty to principles rather than persons sounds moral and ever so high-minded. One thinks of Plato’s move from the focus on the personality of Socrates in the early dialogues to the impersonal “Athenian Stranger” of his last work, “Laws.” But we must also note that the Athenian Stranger and his principles have hardly received the attention given to Socrates and the earlier dialogues. Would the principles of Christianity have persisted through the centuries without the story of Christ? Would we have Mohammedanism without Mohammed, Confucianism without Confucius, Buddhism without Buddha?

Do people work, fight, sacrifice, for principles without personal leadership? When they have, are those principles desirable objects of loyalty? Historical examples have ranged from loyalty to the fatherland to “making the world safe for democracy.” Even these principles were tied to personal leadership.

A morally healthy individual must have more than one loyalty, as Haughey says. “A single loyalty invariably becomes extreme” (p. 9). Therefore, loyalty to one’s business connection is not to be the only loyalty. The problem, then, is to balance the business loyalty with the others. Fr. Haughey gives some, but very little, guidance on this tricky matter.

This review offers a cautious acceptance of the Multidimensional Ethics Scale (MES) developed by Robin, Gordon, Jordan and Reidenbach. While the contribution of the MES to future empirical research of individuals’ moral reasoning is welcomed, a number of reservations or criticisms are raised regarding theory confusion, instrument confusion, and fears arising when using the MES. I conclude that the MES is a valuable compliment to existing moral reasoning instruments — the Moral Judgment Interview and the Defining Issues Test — but not a replacement of these instruments.

Jeremy Rifkin argues that as we push further into the Information Age fewer and fewer workers will be needed to produce our goods and services. Rifkin predicts that the era of near workerless factories and virtual corporations looms on the horizon. As one wag commentator put it: “The factory of the future will be staffed by only two living things, a man and a dog. The man’s job will be to feed the dog. The dog’s job will be to keep the man from touching any of the machines!” In a world that is phasing out mass employment, asks Rifkin, how do we find alternate ways for individuals to earn a living, find meaningful and creative outlets for expressions and establish their own sense of self-worth and identity? In other words, in the absence of work, how will we come to define ourselves? What will we do with ourselves? How will we stay sane?

Most of the infrequent contacts between CEO’s and philosophy professors take place on airplanes. These contacts take the form of exchanges of life-stories between seatmates, exchanges which mitigate the boredom of the flight. Such exchanges provide one of the few ways in which inhabitants of the world of business and inhabitants of the academy get a sense of what the other is doing.

Professors who work in fast-breaking fields like molecular biology or neopragmatist philosophy are always flying off to conferences in places like Sao Paulo, Taipei or Vienna. Our trans-oceanic flights are usually in economy class, but we nevertheless have our reward. When we return home we find that the airlines have sent us upgrade certificates for domestic air travel. This means that we can sometimes go first class to conferences in places like Los Angeles or Seattle. We thus get to sit next to richer and more important people.

The question of how far, if at all, values invade, or should invade, the realm of empirical research is the focus of this issue of Business Ethics Quarterly. Readers will find a variety of answers and perspectives, along with some illustrative examples that support one or another of the possible views. Feelings run high on this topic, and they occasionally break through the normally staid atmosphere that one finds in most academic journals. That in itself may tell something about whether inquiry may be safely cordoned from a contaminating normative orientation. In form of presentation also, some of the articles selected by the editors vary from the conventional design. Essays and opinion pieces take their place alongside more formal presentations. Also included are two discussant papers.

The original inspiration for this collection was a symposium presented during the 1992 annual meeting of the Social Issues in Management division of The Academy of Management. Held in Las Vegas, more than one attendee enjoyed the irony of business ethicists rubbing shoulders with gamblers and other related exotica found in Sin City. The symposium papers are grouped together and, with one exception, appear in the original order of presentation. They are followed by the two discussants’ comments. It is fair to say that in the intervening period, all of these authors have had second, or even third, thoughts and have revised their initial declarations somewhat. This echoes a time-honored practice in the U. S. Congress of allowing members to “extend their remarks” for the (official) Congressional Record, which is another way of giving politicians a chance to tell it the way they wished they had said it in the first place. That’s not bad in the case of academics also, if someone is careful to see that the “extensions” do not extend too far, and in that sense the editors have done what they could. The lead paper, though not part of the earlier symposium, is closely related to the general theme and is included for that reason.

Neoclassical economic theory assumes that people pursue utility maximization within an objective framework, evident to all, that serves as the basis for the interaction. Agents are assumed to be detached observers who see the situation as it is in objective reality. It is argued in this article that there is no objective ground for interaction that exists apart from the understanding of economic agents. Agents have orientations that change over time depending on the way that the situation is currently understood. Depth of understanding and the extent of common ground depend on the quality of attention and the will to openness and honesty. Efforts to maintain connections with others make possible mutual understanding and visions of the common good that enable the coordinated pursuit of desired states of the world.

Opinion surveys and popular media suggest that American workers are disillusioned with their employers and bosses. Governance in organizations is becoming a recognized problem. Classical works on governance call for more virtuous leaders, less selfish followers, and closer attention to the common good. These works were rejected as a basis for governing nations in the 18th century. They are unlikely to provide a basis for governing organizations in the 21st century. This article outlines a liberal-democratic approach to governing corporations, applies this approach to debates over shareholder-stakeholder accountabilities, and proposes special accountabilities to employees.

The question of legal optimism presupposes the development of a normative stance regarding the law’s evolution. Only with a sense of where the law should be going can one be optimistic—or pessimistic for that matter—regarding its development. Thus, the possibility of legal optimism depends on disclosing the normative stance toward the law’s evolution suggested by the law’s moral creativity. What we need is a legal theory for civil society analogous to our legal theory of the market.

We present a second-personal account of corporate moral agency. This approach is in contrast to the first-personal approach adopted in much of the existing literature, which concentrates on the corporation’s ability to identify moral reasons for itself. Our account treats relationships and communications as the fundamental building blocks of moral agency. The second-personal account rests on a framework developed by Darwall. Its central requirement is that corporations be capable of recognizing the authority relations that they have with other moral agents. We discuss the relevance of corporate affect, corporate communications, and corporate culture to the second-personal account. The second-personal account yields a new way to specify first-personal criteria for moral agency, and it generates fresh insights into the reasons those criteria matter. In addition, a second-personal analysis implies that moral agency is partly a matter of policy, and it provides a fresh perspective on corporate punishment.

Roberto Frega argues for the advancement of workplace democracy theorisation by synergising the conceptual pathways of various disciplines. He places a particular emphasis on the practice of employee involvement, which, according to him, constitutes one of the three pillars of workplace democracy, the other two being voice and representation. The present commentary broadens the interdisciplinary horizons of this debate by reflecting on the central role of accountability in workplace democracy and the workings of the three pillars identified by Frega. The commentary explores the potential of accountability and the insights drawn from critical accounting research to translate democratic ideals into meaningful and sustainable organisational practices and so strengthen workplace democracy.

Progressives have advocated reforms of rules governing corporations to achieve greater distributive justice, but Maitland (2001) has argued that corporate rules are distributively neutral and that changing the rules will have no long run impact on distributive justice. These different conclusions stem from the use of two different methods of economic analysis, partial equilibrium and general equilibrium models. A change in the rules governing corporations in a “large” sector of the economy is appropriately analyzed using a general equilibrium analysis, supporting the conclusion that changes in the rules may affect distributive justice in the long run. However, a partial equilibrium analysis of a change in the rules of corporations affecting a “small” part of the economy such as a single firm or even all firms in a small state supports the claim that such changes cannot affect distributive justice.