“A lot of people suffer the same dilemma,” Tambu corrected. “I was not attempting to criticize you. I was trying to point out that many people feel the need to sacrifice their normal inclinations to conform to their chosen professions. I would hazard a prophecy that if you continue with your career as a reporter, the day will come when your personal questions or statements will not even enter your mind during an interview. You will conduct yourself consciously and subconsciously as a journalist-and on that day you will have become a journalist just as I have become Tambu.”
“You may be right.” Erickson shrugged. “However, the standards and ethics of my profession were set long before I entered the field; and if I adhere to them, there is little or no chance I will gain your infamy. Remember, sir, you set your own standards and must therefore bear the full weight of their consequences.”
“I can’t deny that,” Tambu admitted, “either the setting of standards or the responsibility for them. However, we were speaking of intent and guilt. Though branded a villain, throughout my career, I have acted with what in my mind were the purest of intentions. All too frequently the results went awry, but each decision made was, in my judgment, made in favor of the greatest good for others, not for myself-and was therefore in keeping with my personal ethics. That is the salve I have to use against any doubts or feelings of guilt. Do you have that same salve, Mr. Erickson? Can you say that in your career as a reporter you’ve never betrayed a confidence, cheated a friend, or broken a promise for the sake of a story? That you’ve never gone against your own principles to further your career? That you’ve never allowed your self-interest to overshadow your ethics?”