My brother helped us again and we were on the way to Malaysia. I was a different person. Life at the College was as usual. John Futa was the Head of the Program.
We got a house near Sunway. I still recall the haze, and the call of the paper collector, “Paper lama, paper lama,” meaning “old paper.” I bought our daughter a bicycle.
My health was fine, except I remember that getting up in the mornings was a struggle as I felt stiff. I remembered the motto in the Montfort Boys’ Town, where orphaned children were cared for by Henry, the last survivor of a French missionary order.
I met Henry personally earlier, when I visited the Town on a school trip on the advice of Stan Macfarlane, while I was with Taylor’s College. The motto said, “I must, I can.” It was probably to encourage the children to be strong. So, I also encouraged myself with the words, “I must, I can.” It worked.
Chris, his wife and their two boys were going to Saudi Arabia, where his wife got a position teaching optometry. He offered to rent us his house together with an Iswara for RM 1000 per month. I accepted the offer.
So, we moved from the house where we settled to section 2/4H, in Subang Jaya. They returned in 2003, after the terrorist attacks in Riyadh. Many died and were injured. The wife wanted to return immediately.
I became extra aware faith-wise. When I saw the headlines on 12 Sep. 2001, a day after 9/11. When I saw a picture of the burning buildings, I knew war was on the way.
As intended to do a PhD in Canada, I had to get my unfinished MA, which was in an administrative limbo for eighteen years. During the school break, I returned to get the MA. This was in August, 1999. I stayed in a hostel on Danforth Ave., in Toronto.
The following day, I went downstairs to the porch. I enjoyed being back in Toronto. Sitting on the bench beside me was a chap from the UK. We chatted. I told him a bit about Islam. He seemed interested.
“If you understand Islam and Christianity properly, there is no tension between them.” I said. “It is actually a reiteration of the teachings of Moses and Jesus.” I added. I went on in this way for a while. Then he said:
“Well, the fact that you turned to Islam shows that it is not just people from Muslim majority nations that are Muslims.” He was right. Islam, properly understood, is a universal faith.
While in Toronto, I went to see the Dean of Graduate Studies. He was a pleasant fellow. I told him what I was there for, and explained that I wanted the degree, which I felt was unjustly withheld from me.
“I am willing to go all the way to the top,” I told him, looking into his eyes intently. Then I added, “If I have to.” I think he understood what I meant. However, he said:
“Why didn’t you do this earlier?” A good question.
“Well, I guess I could have been wiser about this thing,” admitting that I was partly to blame for the delay. He then advised me to talk to the Chairman of the Political Science Department. While, there I saw a Muslim employee with a headscarf working for the administration.
Afterwards, I stayed in Sudbury for a few days. I called the University of Toronto Political Science Department from Sudbury. The people at the University of Toronto were helpful.
I first called the Chairman of the Department. He turned out to be one of my former classmates, a favorite student of Allan Bloom. The former classmate used to sit across the table from me in Bloom’s class.
After Toronto, he went to do a PhD in American Government at Harvard. Then he was hired by the University of Toronto. He was from England and had an English accent. He remembered me from the class. I told him what happened.
“Just write down what you said to me in an email, and I’ll forward this matter to the MA supervisor, Ronald Beiner,” he said. I did that. He gave me Beiner’s phone number. Ronald Beiner was a human rights specialist in the Department.
Beiner asked me if I still had the paper I wrote in the English course (on film) I took with Jozef Skvorecky, the Czech expatriate writer. I told him I did. After returning to Malaysia, I found it and mailed a copy to him. After a few days I called him. He said:
“I read your paper and I think it adds up to a Master’s degree.” That was good news.
“We’ll put you on the fall graduating list, your degree will be ready in October,” He added.
“Wow, I said to myself, after eighteen years, I will finally get my MA.” There is a bit of a story behind the delay. I was getting restless at the University of Toronto and wanted to study film. I guess the idea of mass communication attracted me.
So, after I completed the course with Alan Bloom, I took another on film with Jozef Skvorecky, an expatriate writer in the English Department at Innis College.
However, the film program in Concordia University in Montreal also did not appeal to me, so I returned to Toronto to finish the MA. I did one more course in political theory, with Thomas Pangle.
I managed an “A minus” on my paper on the “royal prerogative,” in Locke’s Second Treatise. Yet still I could not feel sufficiently motivated to carry on.
I expected that the course on film would count toward my degree, as I was assured by Matthews, the Chairman at the time. However, Matthews could not be contacted at the time I was inquiring why I was not among the graduates, as he went to his cottage and there was no telephone there. That was before cellphones became widely used. So, I was upset.
The person who became Chairman later, a fellow by the name of Fenn, apparently disagreed. Not only he did not recommend me for graduation but, as I learned subsequently, he entered an “F” on my transcript for a course with C.B. Macpherson, which I did not complete due to financial reasons. Fenn later died of cancer.
“Well, if this is how the Department of Political Science does this, “I said to the secretary, maybe I do not want this degree,” and I walked out of the graduate office, thinking this was the end of my academic pursuits. It was unwise. I acted like a brash young man.
Years later, I realized that I should return to the university after all. As I needed a PhD, I asked for the “F” to be removed and replaced with an “Inc.” signifying “Incomplete.”
The Political Science Department granted my request, and as a result I have a “cleaner” transcript. I had money problems at the U of T because I did not get a scholarship.
I did not get the OGS (Ontario Graduate Scholarship) because I did not apply for it. And I did not apply for it because I did not know about it. Neither did I know that, with an 80% average in the final two semesters of undergraduate studies, I was automatically eligible for it.
I guess this is part of the immigrant’s story. We needed to find our way. People would not always volunteer information. I found out about my eligibility for the scholarship from my thesis supervisor at Guelph, but only years afterwards.
“By the way, why did you not apply for an OGS?” he asked me when I visited him in Guelph.”
“What is an OGS?” I asked. He briefly explained. Then he added:
“You were eligible, by the way.”
“Great, only now he is telling me,” I thought to myself. “I wish he told me this at the time.” Overall the trip went well. I achieved what I set out to do. After my business in Canada was finished, I returned to Malaysia. Soon I was on the plane back to Malaysia.
I applied into the PhD program from Malaysia two years in a row, but in both instances, I was unsuccessful. There were one hundred and thirty and one hundred and twenty applicants, respectively for twenty fully funded PhD students. In retrospect, I realized this was no great loss, as I was interested in Islam.
It was during this time at Sunway that I became friends with the late Professor Syed Hussein. He has written several books. I knew him as a person of integrity. He also had a brilliant intellect and was an excellent debater. I was introduced to him by Suleiman Dufford, an American convert.
Professor and I got to know each other well. I used to visit him once a week, on Thursday evenings, for about a year. He would call me on Wednesday and I would go over the next day, at 10 pm. We would talk at times until 3:30 am.
He would start by making me a coffee and then he would light up a pipe. I learned a lot from him. He was familiar with the work of Leo Strauss. He came across his books when he was studying in Holland, and he read all of them. He said:
“If a person told me that Strauss was a Muslim, I would have easily believed it.”
Suleiman had in remarkable life, too. His father had a brewery in Texas but lost. When he found out that Suleiman travelled in Afghanistan, where he became a Muslim, he said:
“What? You went to Afghanistan? Now you will never get a job with the government.” In any case, upon hearing of his son’s conversion to Islam, Suleiman’s father – in Suleiman’s word – disowned him.
One day, Terry, the Director of the Program called me into his office and said:
“Leslie, I heard that you are making statements of a political and religious nature in your class.” I was surprised.
“May I hear any examples of such statements? Could I see some evidence?” I enquired.
“Oh, come on Leslie, we are not into evidence here, it is the perception that counts,” he said.
He wanted me to leave the Program straight away, but I asked at least to finish the semester. He agreed. In the meantime, I appealed to the administration but received no reply from either of two persons. After that, I was out of work, and planned to open a tuition center in Kelantan.
Islamic Science University of Malaysia
After leaving Sunway, I had the idea of opening a tuition center in Kelantan. Why Kelantan? It seemed to be a peaceful place and I had a rather romanticized view of this state.
However, I visited the Director of an Islamic university in KL. He asked me if I would be willing to join them. I said I would. I was invited to a meeting with the university.
The Deputy rector chaired the meeting. Also present were the Chief Librarian, the Head of Finance, the Registrar, and a couple of secretaries. They looked at three degrees and asked me about my remuneration in the private sector. I answered all questions. The Finance person asked me if I believed in teaching grammar.
“At least a third of the course should be spent on teaching grammar,” I said.
It seemed to sit well with her. I was also asked if I believed in teaching literature, for example Shakespeare.
“Oh absolutely, I said. Reading good literature is one of the best ways to learn a language.” The Deputy Rector asked me the following:
“Why would you want to join KUIM (at that time the university was known as Kolej University Islam Malaysia) for a relatively unknown institution like ours. After a moment of reflection, I said:
“Sir, quite frankly I think Sunway is overrated.” The interview went well. I felt reasonably comfortable about it.
The job would begin in September, 2002. My application had to be approved by the Civil Service Department as well as by the Ministry of Higher Education.
I telephoned the university a few times. Finally, I was informed that my application was on the desk of the head of the Civil Service. It did not take long after that.
The teachers at the Islamic university were professional. I was assigned two classes per day. I inquired about the regular load. I was told that lecturers have four classes per day, while teachers had five. I said I did not want any special treatment and that I was ready to teach a full workload. I was assigned to teach four classes a day.
The students were well behaved. They were attentive, and as intelligent as any students I had in the private sector. The first year we were in KL. Then we moved to the campus in Negeri Sembilan. I commuted fifty-five kilometers every day each way. I had natural gas installed in the car, to save on the fuel expense.
At first, I taught English as a Second Language. I also taught Creative Writing and Shakespeare in English. In my fourth year, I was asked to be the Head of the program. I accepted.
In the office I had a table, chair, a computer, a printer and a bookshelf. The staff at the university were from all over the world. There were two men from war-torn Iraq, a few African fellows and even a fellow from Libya. They were quite welcoming. I became friends with them. There was a collegial atmosphere at the university.
USIM tried to combine the best of what may be found in traditional Islamic education with the best of what present-day education had to offer. I think this as the right approach.
Of course, there may have been minor irritants from time to time, but my stay at USIM was a different experience. I worked in an Islamicenvironment. I learned a lot and it allowed me to grow. I just hope my students can say the same thing.
I felt energized in this environment. When I used to walk to classes, I felt a tremendous energy. The Negeri Sembilan campus was pleasant. The mosque was not yet constructed, so we had to go to pray in the town. It was not far, only about ten minutes by car.
From time to time, I would have conversations with staff about various matters. Most seemed reasonably articulate, but English required attention.
After four years, I began to feel restless again. I began to ask about doing a PhD program, on a part-time basis. I went to ISTAC, the Institute for the Study of Islamic Civilization.
I needed a reference letter for the PhD program, so I thought I would attend the class of one of the professors, and then ask for a reference based on my work there. I went to see the Dean of the Faculty at IIUM. She allowed me to audit professor Kamali’s class on human rights in Islam.
I sat in the class of Professor Kamali. I came across a few of his books and I liked the rigor of his writing. I wrote a paper on khalwator being physically close to a female who was not one’s relative.
There were four students in the room. Two of them dropped out before the course was finished. The Indonesian lady, told me her friends advised her not to take the course, as the failure rate in Dr. Kamali’s significant.
An Arab student from the United Arab Emirates was reproached by the Professor. After that, the student was never to be seen again.
After finishing the course, I proceeded with the PhD application. I asked the Professor to write me a letter of recommendation for acceptance into ISTAC, which he did. I asked ISTAC Professor Dr. Osman to write me the second letter. I gave him a sample of my work, to give him a basis for determining whether to recommend me or not.
I completed the application and went to see the Rector at the university to request a letter from him too, as required by the application process. While before he was encouraging, this time I had a different experience.
“I advise you no to go to ISTAC,” he said. “Your contract here might not be renewed. It is not just up to me. It has to go to the top,” he added, probably meaning the Chairman of the University by the latter part of his remark.
That was a surprise. He hinted that the Institute to which I wanted to apply was of a different denomination, not mainstream Islam followed by the university.
I went back to the two Professors at ISTAC and explained to them that I had to drop my intention to do a PhD as it would mean I would not be able to work at the university. I was disheartened but reassured myself that God would find a way out for me. A few months later He did.
In December 2007, as I was having a coffee at the Starbucks in Sunway Pyramid, I received a phone call from Professor Kamali.
“Abdul Karim, how are you,” he said.
“Fine,” I replied, “only I miss the discussions we used to have,” I added. He said his PA and he had a hard time finding my phone number. Apparently, they have been searching for it for a while. They finally found it in one of my emails.
“Why don’t you come and see me,” he said. “I might have a job for you. I’ll ask my PA to call you” he added. His PA turned was Zarina. The following day we arranged a meeting two or three days later at the Institute of Strategic and International Studies (ISIS) in KL.
When I arrived, he gave me a big hug. He explained this was a position of a research fellow. As I was ready for a challenge, I readily accepted.
Initially, I edited books. There were three books I edited during this early period, and he published two of them. I was glad when my first writing was published. This continued for a decade. I did research in Islamic finance, art and education.
In the meantime, a friend from Canada got in touch with me over Facebook. I felt I had to explain to him why I left the people I used to associate with at the University of Toronto, the Straussians. So, I wrote him a letter.
I tried to explain to him why I left Toronto, but it was not easy. So, I offered to explain it in a letter. The letter was taking a long time to write. I wanted to be fair to everyone. I was also worried that it might leak into the public domain.
So, I wrote it as if it was going to be published. Before I finished the letter, however, he unfriended me on Facebook. I do not blame him as I fell silent and did not write anything while I was agonizing about the letter. Here it is:
Letter to Colin
It has been so many years since we spoke that I thought I should write a little summary of what happened during those years.
I did not stay with the Straussians to do a PhD at the University of Toronto. My intention initially was to have Alan Bloom supervise my thesis. I may have informed you that I first came across the ides of Leo Strauss at the University of Guelph, where I found Natural Right and History on the bookshelf in the campus Bookstore and took an immediate interest in it.
Professor Vaughan, a graduate of the University of Chicago, was a former PhD student of Leo Strauss at the University of Chicago and he brought Strauss’ ideas to Guelph.
In his office he had the transcripts of many of Strauss’ lectures. About a dozen binders, if I am not mistaken. He lent me the one on Nietzsche once, but alas I had no time to read it, and was not allowed to make a copy.
It was a clearly written account. Strauss’s valiant struggles against moral relativism and nihilism impressed me. I wanted to join the ranks of those who stood up for timeless (trans-historical) truth. Temporary truths (various types of historicism) were not attractive to me.
In Guelph I was doing a four-year BA in political science with a minor in economics. I was attracted by the discipline of Strauss’ language, and the moral awareness that I could sense in the pages of the book. This was something new and different from the mainstream liberal jargon peddling relativism of which the academia and the media were so full of at that time.
The esoteric character of his writing – obscuring the truth between the lines to survive telling it – at that time was a minor concern to me. I agreed with him that writers could not openly declare truth in societies that were averse to any truth with a capital “T.”
In Toronto Bloom and I did not really hit it off very well personal chemistry-wise. I later developed doubts about the whole enterprise. The problem with the Straussians, as one Professor – Syed Hussein – here put it, is that “they have no truth to defend.” If you have no truth to defend, can you have a truth to tell?
Someone betrayed the secret of the philosophers, which is that they are more interested in the search for truththan the truth itself. Even if they encountered the truth, they would not accept it and keep on looking.
There is something radically wrongwith that attitude. As if truth did not really matter. On top of that we have the “salutary lies” and “noble myths” that we are told the masses must believe to make society work.
Something happened one time in Bloom’s class that made me feel that he had little confidence in himself, despite his apparent arrogance. He really wanted everyone to pay full attention to him when he spoke. As a teacher he had a right to expect that from his students. But I think it was more than just that. He wanted adoration.
I felt the worldview that was being painted was incomplete. To be fair, I recall Bloom saying in his class that the important question facing humanity is “God or gods?” In addition, in the last sentence in his City and Man, Strauss says that the question that the philosophers are always thinking about, even though they never say it out loud, is. “Quid sid Deus,” or “What is God.”
I switched to part time studies, a course per year. This was due to money problems. After completing the year with Bloom, I briefly enrolled at Concordia University in Montreal. I wanted to make movies. I wanted to communicate to larger numbers of people than was possible in an academic career.
At Concordia, however, they insisted that I take film theory courses, but I wanted to start making movies right away. I withdraw from the program and returned to the U of T to finish the Master’s degree.
That’s when I enrolled in Clifford Orwin’s graduate course. There I wrote a paper on Hobbes (managing an A) and a paper on the speech of the Melian dialogue in Thucydides’ Peloponnesian War (again managing an A). Despite these successes, I still could not help feeling that something was missing.
I was experiencing tension between my personal beliefs and what I was trying to do as a student of the Straussians. I was trying to reconcile faith with philosophy. It wasn’t easy. I felt that the spiritual alternative was not getting sufficient recognition.
The nagging doubts just would not leave me. A friend from the US then lent me Beneath the Wheel, by Hermann Hesse. I also had some sympathy for the ideas of C. B. Macpherson. I was pulled in quite a few different directions. It’s a good thing I didn’t fall apart.
Another issue that troubled me was the view that science (reason) and religion were incompatible. I had a problem with this (still do), and I felt the Straussians did not pay enough attention to this issue.
After finishing courses with Bloom, Orwin and Pangle, and one in the Department of English, called Innovators in Film, taught by the Czech expatriate writer, Josef Skvorecky, I enrolled for a Master of Education degree at OISE.
I took six courses there with titles like “Developing Religious Perspectives,” (with Clive Beck) “The Nature of Religious Knowledge,” “Moral Education,” “Anarchist Critiques of Education,” “Alternative Schools,” (the last two with Malcolm Levin) and “Literature in Education.” I still felt intellectually undernourished, however.
There was too much logical positivism on the reading list, especially in the courses on religion. I took the remaining four one-semester courses, as allowed by program requirements, outside of the Department of History and Philosophy at OISE, at the Department of Philosophy at the U of T again.
These included a course on Hermeneutics (with Professor Nicholson). Here I read Gadamer’s Truth and Method, as well as Spinoza’s Theologico-political Treatise. Spinoza writes clearly. But I cannot say the same about Gadamer. In a course on Hegel, I read the Berlin Lectures on the Philosophy of Religion, a very complex (late Hegel) book, full of abstruse abstractions. Professor Schmitz was my teacher there.
I wrote a paper on Hegel’s early theological writings.I compared a brief passage in the Positivity essay with another text and argued that Hegel freed himself to an extent from the influence of Kant. I also read The Religious Dimension in Hegel’s Thought, by Emile Fackenheim. I felt Fackenheim was unfair to Hegel. According to Fackenheim, Hegel failed to reconcile reason and revelation.
That may have been so, but the value of Hegel’s insight consisted in the view that reason and revelation are not antagonists but rather complement each other and, if properly understood, are in harmony with one another. The changes in Hegel’s language reflected this.
According to Schmitz, the young Hegel wanted to be a Volkserzieher, a people’s teacher. I also took a course with Professor Sanan on Kierkegaard and Nietzsche, writing a paper on the latter to the effect that he changed his early preference for tragedy to one of comedy.
Finally, there was a course on Kant’s Critique of Pure Reason(Nagel), where I wrote a paper relating to the issue of the freedom of the will. But since my admission to the PhD in the Philosophy Department was made to depend on completing extra work in philosophy, specifically in analytical philosophy, in which I had no interest, I did not pursue the PhD in the Department of Philosophy either.
All that was still unsatisfactory. One or two explorations about doing a PhD at OISE came to naught. In between all this I also took a few undergraduate courses at the Department of Philosophy. One was on Education, where I read Anton Makarenko. Another course was on aesthetics, where I wrote a paper on Clive Bell, a British scholar espousing formalism in art. I also read prince Kropotkin’s Mutual Aid(an interesting counter statement to Charles Darwin), and Leo Tolstoy’s What Is Art.
Then, an opportunity came to work abroad – in Malaysia. Now this would be different. As I only worked part time at that time (another visa school) I applied and was hired. I arrived in Malaysia in March 1987 and taught in the Canadian Matriculation Program at Taylor’s College until 1989, Economics and Law.
Living in Malaysia and visiting neighbouring countries Thailand and Singapore has been a learning experience. It was a nice change from the cold European and/or North American blandness and predictable self-centredness.
I returned to Canada after the one-year contract ended. It was on my way back to Malaysia and (to Canada as I thought) that I met my future wife, Zaharah, at a youth hostel in Kuala Lumpur.
She was from Singapore. We got married in Canada and had both an Islamic and a civil marriage. I formally converted to Islam before I married Zaharah.
In Canada things were not smooth. After spending time with relatives, we migrated to Vancouver on the West Coast, in an old Ford Econoline extended van, with an International Harvester diesel engine – 6.9 litres. I managed to get a job with COHO Management Services, a subsidiary of CFHBC (Cooperative Housing Federation of British Columbia) as a management trainee.
My contract was not extended, but while collecting UI, I was hired to work in Malaysia once again, this time in the Canadian Matriculation Program at Sunway College, later Sunway University College. Hello again, Malaysia! This time I lasted five years.
After the first three or four years I began to feel restless again. Our second return to Canada (Ottawa) was an even bigger shock than the first. That was a rough patch. I applied to my old school in Malaysia. John Futa re-hired me. It was during this time that I had my awakening. I began to practice Islam earnestly.
I was happy to be back in Malaysia. I stayed in the Canadian International Matriculation Program for three years. A few people complained that I was proselytising. I had to move on.
I was about to go to the East Coast of Malaysia to start an English language school, when I was offered a job at the Islamic College of Malaysia, later renamed the Islamic University College of Malaysia.
This was an altogether different experience. The students and staff were almost all Muslims. No one faulted me here for talking about Islam in class, although I was hired mainly to teach English.
This happy experience lasted 5 years. I was starting to get a little restless again, however, in my fourth year, and began to explore doing a PhD part time on something relating to Islam.
When I approached my boss and friend – the rector – about doing a PhD at ISTAC, the International Institute of Islamic Thought and Civilisation, initially he was supportive but later advised me to do it elsewhere claiming the orientation of the studies at ISTAC was leaning towards Shia interpretation of Islam.
In fact, he advised me that my contract with the university might not be renewed if I went ahead with my intention. So, I abandoned the idea of the PhD at ISTAC. This institution has since been brought under the authority of the IIUM, the International Islamic University of Malaysia.
About a year later I got a call from Hashim Kamali, whose course on Welfare in IslamI had earlier audited, so I could ask him for a reference for my admission to the ill-fated PhD. He asked me how I was doing. I said good, but that I missed some of the discussions we used to have in class.
He said he might have a job for me and asked me to see him at ISIS (Institute of Strategic and International Studies) where he was temporarily housed. When I subsequently visited him, he explained that the Prime Minister of Malaysia at the time, Tun Badawi, asked him to set up an institute to promote civilisational Islam. The professor made me an offer and I accepted to work at the yet to be officially launched Institute as an assistant research fellow.
I did a lot of editing, and published a few book reviews, a viewpoint here and there and two papers. The first was on the global economic and financial crisis; the second was on critical thinking. I am currently writing another paper on sukuk, what some people call Islamic bonds.
Another book review, hopefully, is on the way in our new journal, Islam and Civilisational Renewal, published and distributed in the UK by Pluto Press. I am not sure if they have any distributor in the US. What we are trying to do here is “civilisational renewal.”
It is similar, I suppose to the Western renaissance that Leo Strauss was hoping for, according to an article written about him by Bloom. I suppose we can have a healthy competition, as to whose civilisation can be renewed better and faster. So, there is my story in brief. I hope things are well with you.
I apologize for the long time this letter has taken to complete. I hope you can understand my dilemma. It’s been so many years. Your messages brought back many memories.”
During a vacation in Samui, Zara and I had a motorcycle accident. I rode the wrong way on a one-way street. To avoid an approaching car, I had to turn left sharply.
As I also applied the brakes, the front wheel skidded on the dust and we both fell of the motorbike. I was unhurt, but Zara knocked a tooth out and broke another one. I resolved after this that we would never ride bikes again. This was my third and hopefully last motorcycle accident.
At the hospital, Zara was given a brain scan. Thank God, no damage there. In the hospital there were many people, including foreigners. Some looked in rough shape. The bill came to about 5,600 baht.
After a while, however, I began to feel restless again. I felt I wanted to research about particular topic, but this was proving difficult. I wanted to do paper on aggressive jihad, which a few jurists supported. I was advised by the Head of Human Resources that Professor Kamali did not want me to do research on jihad. So, I thought it would be better to work for an institution that allows greater flexibility. I wanted freedom of expression.
If a suitable time arises to pursue this question, I would gladly return to it. In the meantime, I am publishing Reflections. All I can say is that I hope the reader may find this book interesting. So, there is the tale. Is there anything a person may learn from all that? It is important to be ethical.