“And always let your conscience be your guide.”

. . . a reminder from the lyrics of the song with Jiminy Cricket in “Pinocchio”.

I’d like to believe that all people are basically good and want to the do the right thing. In making that statement, I also realize that it doesn’t always happen that way, and that as human beings we are greatly impacted by our upbringing, early family values, and the mentoring we receive along the way. Those early experiences can go a long way into determining who we are, how we think, and how our value system plays out during our life.

Along those lines, I have my own “defining moment” that taught me much about conscience, character, and shaping one’s navigational compass.

The story –

Back in my youth and during my last few months of college, I was fortunate and landed a job before I graduated. Celebrating that accomplishment, I went out and bought a snazzy sports car from a friend of mine that had it for sale. And because I wasn’t yet “rolling in the dough”, I chose to defer my loan payment on the car until after I graduated.

My friend, who sold me the car and knew I was still tight on cash, gave me a tip that I could reduce the vehicle fees I’d have to pay, if I understated the price I paid for it at the DMV office. And since my friend said he would go along with it, I was assured that it would be no problem and I could “pull it off”. Soon thereafter, I coyly trotted down to the DMV office, reported the lower purchase price, and paid the fees for my registration.

It was around this time that somehow my father had gotten wind of my shrewd plan to save a few dollars on my registration (it’s funny how parents just know this stuff). Anyway, as the story goes, a day or two later my dad called me in to talk privately. I’ll never forget when he said to me, “Rob, I heard that you were thinking of underreporting the sales price on your new car to avoid paying money on the registration, but I’m so proud of you as my son, knowing that you did the honest thing and reported it accurately.”

To this day, I still can’t express how low I felt when he said that to me. Talk about a punch in the gut. I swallowed hard, nodded, and slinked off as quickly as possible, trying not to reveal the devastation and shame that I felt knowing that I had let him down.

The very next day, bright and early, I sneaked back down to the DMV office as soon as it opened. Facing what was probably a surprised clerk, I told her that I had been in on the previous day and thought I had made a mistake on the purchase price of my car, reporting it too low. Without much comment, she pulled out the record of the previous day, confirmed my information, reprocessed the registration, and gave me a bill for the additional amount. I quickly paid the fees and scurried out of the office, hoping to bury and forget the memories of that whole ordeal forever.

Years later, I can tell you that the events of those few fateful days still haunt me, and my conscience still stings thinking about how I behaved back then in letting down my dad and myself. I also sheepishly have to admit, maybe due to pride and residual embarrassment, that over the years and even as an adult, I’ve never again discussed the details of that story with him.

But what I can say is that my dad’s words that day have affected me in ways that I never imagined. It has made me realize and given true meaning to the value of the words, “let your conscience be your guide”. And there’s no question that the supreme guidance of one’s conscience can be a powerful force in keeping our integrity on track.

As it turned out, ironically, maybe out of fate or just coincidence, I ended up serving in a career of finance where fiduciary responsibility and honesty have always been paramount and an absolute prerequisite. Thanks to my dad’s early lesson, it has helped me keep my ethical compass calibrated to true “North”, with a conscience that continually reminds me to always try to do the right thing.

And to this day, I’ll never know the full circumstances of what my dad was thinking or what he actually knew when he talked to me that day. But I sure do know that it impacted me and had a positive influence on my life thereafter.

Thanks, dad. I love you. And I’ll try to pass the message forward.