How not to be ethical in business: cause a problem, and then require people to pay you to solve it.

This week, the National Rifle Association’s corporate members hope to profit from a trouble they have helped cultivate. Read their statement responding to the shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary school. Through the statement’s sarcasm and hyperbole, one concrete proposal shines through: a federal law requiring armed guards in every school.

Whether or not you think this kind of deterrence is effective, pause for a moment to take a business ethics perspective. The NRA represents groups who manufacture, sell, and promote a dangerous consumer product. This week, public worries about the product’s danger are high – so high that some want the product off the market entirely. But worry no more, says the NRA. Just buy more of the product. Pass a federal law requiring every state and municipality to buy dozens, hundreds, or even thousands more.

Is it acceptable to profit from someone else’s trouble? Is it acceptable to write a law institutionalizing your profits?

Parshat Vayigash reminds us to ask.

During the seven years of abundance in Egypt, farmers are required to store their grain in Pharaoh’s granaries. When the famine becomes severe, Joseph allows the Egyptians to buy their grain back from Pharaoh. When their money is spent, he allows them to pay with cattle. After they have given Pharaoh all their cattle, they offer all they have left — their bodies and labor. Joseph buys their land for Pharaoh and moves them into cities. In the future, he says, they will be able to work Pharaoh’s land, and keep four-fifths of the produce for themselves. He writes this arrangement into a law that stands for hundreds of years.

Some readers say Joseph is as ethical as a man in his position could be. He fulfills his responsibilities to his royal employer, taking not a penny for himself in bribe or profit. He allows the people to be partners in decision-making. And he proposes a reasonable tax rate of twenty percent.

Other readers look beyond Joseph’s immediate role as Pharaoh’s agent. From a long-term perspective, they say, Joseph’s work ends badly. He makes it possible for the government to own people. He creates a class of debtors that lasted for generations. And he makes enemies who eventually find their way to power and enslave Joseph’s great-grandchildren.

From the perspective of maximizing corporate profits, perhaps it is praiseworthy to take advantage of people’s troubles, and to use law as a tool to do it. Perhaps in some professions, you can only survive by doing so.

Not all methods of earning a living are morally equal.

Some professions require you to close your conscience, while others invite you to open it.

Parshat Vayigash invites us to reflect on this, as well.

When Pharaoh asks Joseph’s brothers “What do you do?” they reply modestly. “Your servants are shepherds, both ourselves and our ancestors.”

As Torah tells it, they and their ancestors are not simply shepherds; they are master sheep breeders with huge herds and many employees. Yet they are also spiritual seekers, each on a slow but relentless path of moral development.

Rav Kook (1865-1935) suggests that their profession facilitates inner growth. The shepherd, says Rav Kook, spends many hours outdoors hanging out with the flocks. Though it is time-consuming, it is not work-intensive. So, if you are a shepherd, you have an opportunity to reflect about life, the universe and everything.

You get to reflect on the process of reflection. You may notice that sometimes you are lost in a dreamy haze, when all thoughts are indistinct. Suddenly, a clear insight will rise from the haze and present itself to you.

And you get to reflect on the process of creation. Just as clarity of mind comes out of a jumble of thought, so does form come out of the chaos before creation. You get to understand the beginning of the world, a time when only God and light existed. With this knowledge, you realize God is present in your consciousness. You begin to take seriously your dreams, visions, and inner emotional reactions to family, friends and colleagues. Conflict becomes an opportunity to enlarge your understanding through empathy. At least, this is what happens to all the shepherds in the book of Genesis.

Some say you can’t judge the corporate or political worlds by individual ethical standards; people are driven only to maximize their advantage. Spirituality – the kind that requires insight, not slogans – could undermine one’s competitive advantage. Heartlessness is required for success.

Call me naive. I still believe that heartlessness is divisive, dangerous, and unsustainable. And I hope I am not alone.

Image: Kosovo 1999, by Alexandra Boulat, tumblr.com