The danger of assumptions

I remember the lesson well. The professor went to the board and wrote, in large letters, “ASSUME.” Then he took his chalk and added two slash marks to make it “ASS/U/ME.” That meant, he said, that when you “assume” you make an “ass” out of “u” and “me.”

I’ve heard it a hundred times since then, as no doubt many of you have, but for many people the lesson never seems to take hold. In last week’s column, I addressed the issue of how someone should deal with the suspicion that another employee had been drinking. Based on the information the reader gave to me, I said I thought that it was best to mind his own business.

Many readers agreed with the advice, but many others took exception. Some of the arguments in favor of rapid intervention involved the potential for drunken driving and the subsequent injury to others, the ravages of alcoholic disease, the responsibility we have to assist others, and, curiously, how I would feel if the person in question (the alleged drinker) committed suicide.

Most of the arguments were not compelling and some were seriously flawed, but they all leaned heavily on assumptions. Those assumptions were the following: that the reader who raised the question was correct in assuming that what he smelled was, in fact, alcohol; that the smell meant that the person was an alcoholic; that the smell indicated that the person was drunk at the time; and that the person routinely drove while intoxicated.

So, as you can see, despite the fact that the original assumption was questionable, the subsequent assumptions quickly spun out of control.

There was nothing in the original reader’s question to indicate anything other than what he suspected was an “odor of vodka” in two isolated encounters with the employee involved. In the absence of any other indication of impaired behavior, the assumption that it resulted from drinking and all other successive assumptions are unwarranted. Based on unwarranted assumptions, any sort of intervention would violate the employee’s privacy and autonomy.

Now, if as some people assumed, the employee involved exhibited any type of impaired behavior, it would provide some groundwork for more valid assumptions and serve as a basis to take some action. If the reader had witnessed the employee actually drinking on company premises and company time, then the situation escalates to a higher level.

The whole issue raises the question, as many people noted, of whether we have some obligation to provide assistance to our fellow human beings. That’s controversial, although most people agree that we do have some obligations of mutual aid. More controversial is under what circumstances we offer such aid, how much we have to provide, and when we’re allowed to invade someone’s privacy and autonomy in order to do it.

Clearly, if someone asks us for assistance, we would be permitted to offer it. Whether we’re required to do so is another matter altogether. For example, simply asking you to help me make my car payment creates no obligation on you to do it, although you could if you wanted. So in the case of a fellow employee who came to you for assistance with a drinking problem, your best response might be to point him or her to the Employee Assistance Program, or AA.

If someone were clearly in imminent danger of hurting either themselves or others, there is an argument for a limited intervention — enough to prevent the harm from occurring. If someone is clearly impaired and is about to get behind the wheel, then an intervention is called for. Again, that may be nothing more than calling 9-1-1 and alerting police to the situation, if you can’t stop the person yourself.

Or, if someone were overtly threatening to harm themselves or others, there are clear ethical — and in some cases legal — obligations to notify authorities.

However, when all we’re faced with is suspicions and assumptions and no clear evidence of anything else, it’s much harder to build a case that we should violate a person’s privacy and autonomy. That caveat refers to those who are casual acquaintances and fellow employees. It will play out differently for family members and close friends, who may have a different relationship with the person in question and different responsibilities.

In defense of intervention, one reader insisted that “I am my brother’s keeper.” I don’t buy that at all. I have many relationships to my fellow human beings, but “keeper” isn’t one of them. That smacks of such dominance and subordination that the ethical pitfalls should be obvious. I can be concerned about people, I can offer assistance when the facts indicate a need and the person agrees, but I don’t see myself as a “keeper.”

Even if you can argue a strong obligation to offer assistance to others, that assistance must always be respectful of their autonomy and their ability to control their own lives. Medical personnel — doctors, nurses, paramedics — can’t treat a patient without the patient’s consent, unless the person is clearly incapable of making sound decisions or is unconscious and consent can be presumed. To do otherwise is considered assault and battery and is punishable by law.

As far as how I would feel if the person involved committed suicide, as several readers asked, the short answer is that I would feel terrible for the person and his or her family. However, unless I had somehow pushed the person to the brink of suicide, I don’t feel responsible for what other people do with their lives. That would be different in a situation of imminent action, as I noted above. However, to interfere with someone merely because I imagined that at some future time they might contemplate suicide is totally unsupportable. At any rate, this assumption is so far off the scale that it doesn’t carry much force as an argument.

If you strip away the unwarranted assumptions from the original case, you should clearly see that there is no basis for action without further evidence. The assumption that a breath odor was caused by alcohol should be cause for concern, but should be tempered by the possibility that it was wrong.

At best it can heighten suspicion and should lead someone to be on the alert for other signs that drinking may be a problem. For a casual acquaintance to take some action based on an unsupported suspicion is ethically indefensible.