Our Collective Conscience

When I was eight-years-old, I stole a 99¢ lip gloss from CVS. I had seen older girls with shiny, dewy lips and I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. However, being eight, I had no money with which to buy this mystical tube of strawberry-scented goodness. So I made an executive decision: I slipped the lip gloss into my jeans pocket, and strolled casually back to where my mother was comparing glue stick varieties. 

By that age I knew that a dollar was fairly inconsequential, but I also knew that stealing was wrong. I didn’t feel like a rebel for taking the lip gloss; I did feel a little guilty, but clearly not guilty enough. 

When I got home, I locked myself in the bathroom and eagerly applied the gloss to my modest little lips. This substance, which I had been so keen to acquire I had resorted to shoplifting, turned out to be one of the biggest letdowns of my young life. It was sticky and not at all appetizing, as the joyous strawberries on the tube suggested. It dried out my lips and made me look, well, ridiculous. I don’t remember what I ended up doing with that lip gloss, but I sure as hell didn’t throw it in the bathroom garbage can (that would have given me away all too easily). More than likely, it ended up lost behind my bunk bed frame, never to be seen again. 

Then, when I was about twelve, I found myself in a Yankee Candle at the mall. My intention was to buy one more teeny tiny present to lay under the tree. And by teeny tiny, I mean one of those $1 votive candles that claims to smell like Summer Beach Breeze or Granny’s Apple Pie. I carefully chose my scented treat and got into the long line of holiday shoppers. When my turn came to pay, I handed the cashier my last two earthly dollars and awaited my meager change. 

And then something magical happened: I was handed a small stack of crumpled bills along with my coins! Unsure of what was happening, I pocketed the money and exited the store hastily. I soon realized that the woman - in her rush to help customers with more legitimate purchases - must have punched $20 instead of $2 into the cash register, which resulted in my being given and additional $18 in change. Being a naive pre-teen, I had no understanding of a cashier having to balance her drawer at the end of a shift; nor did I know that she would likely be penalized for the discrepancy. So I went on my merry way, $18 richer and in search of some better gifts for my family. 

I did, however, make a point of avoiding that particular Yankee Candle for quite a few years thereafter. 

A few years later, my conscience was tested once again. This time I was 15, and I had just spent six weeks traveling around The Republic and Northern Ireland. Our journey ended in a three-day stay in Dublin, where we visited museums, saw St. James’ Gate and bought last-minute gifts for friends and family. 

I had spent about 20 minutes wandering around one hole-in-the-wall souvenir shop, unsure of whether I should purchase the ‘My Goodness, My Guinness’ coaster set for my father. I had the nagging feeling that I could find something better in another shop (even though they all turned out to be identical both in layout and merchandise). Unswayed by the memorabilia before me, I sauntered out of the store in search of a better souvenir. 

I made it about five blocks down the street before I felt that something was amiss. I stopped, looked down, and - to my horror - saw that I was still clutching the coaster set in my hungry little hands. Regret flooded over me, and I stood there in a red-faced panic, wondering what to do now. Eventually, I concluded that I had to return to the scene of the crime and purchase the coasters legitimately. But here was the problem: I was radiating guilt, sure that someone would see me slip back in holding the stolen property. In the end, I managed to smuggle the item into the shop, jumped in line and swiftly completed my transaction. 

My father really did enjoy the gift, which is lucky, considering how much trouble I had to go to just to buy it. 

These events were unearthed from the archives of my memory just yesterday, when I once again had the option to cheat the system. For an upcoming blog post (I see you all waiting anxiously), I went down to the local Boots Pharmacy and purchased a range of lipsticks in an assortment of hues and brands. When I was about to pay, I realized that the cashier had failed to scan one of the items. I don’t know how she missed it, as the tube was a vivid violet and I had placed it in clear sight, but that is neither here nor there.

Instinctively, I pushed the balm forward and said something along the lines of, “Oh, and this, too,” as if it was somehow my mistake. The lipstick was scanned and I paid my new total, leaving the shop feeling as though I’d spared myself some nagging guilt. In the end, I’m positive I could have gotten away without paying for the product; it was small and could have been slipped into my Boots bag. After all, it only cost £4.49 - who would it really have hurt? 

And yet, I doubt I could have ever used the lipstick, knowing that I had gained it through mild thievery. It probably helps that I am no longer eight-years-old, and I like to think that I have learned something in the last 17 years of life. 

Still, all these anecdotes got me to thinking about human consciences and how we react when put into certain situations. Without a doubt, there are rules of life that we all often bend (or even break) to suit our own needs: when I drive, I almost always do so above the speed limit; at crosswalks I teach my niece to wait for the ‘Go’ signal, but alone I’m more than happy to weave between cars; at ice cream parlors I have no qualms about sampling five different flavors with zero intention of actually ordering a cone. But all those things seem fairly benign, right? 

I guess my question is this: when does an action change from being simply favorable to one party, to being harmful or wrong? Does it have to involve money, or only goods? Everybody will have a different answer to these queries, of course. Most likely this blog post won’t change the world in any major way. But at least it made me stop and think. Maybe it did for you, too…

** If you would be so kind, please tell me what you think in the comments section. This is not for any research, but really for my own interest, and your answers can remain anonymous. Thanks! **