Honesty Boxes and the Dubious Ethical Extrapolation
The New York Times got around to chronicling the existence of honesty boxes on the remote and rural golf courses of Scotland. Such boxes, used rarely in instances where it makes no financial sense for a course to employ an attendant, are one of Scottish golf's splendid curiosities, an anachronistic idiosyncrasy, in an age where, apparently, the majority of patrons can be trusted to drop 10 quid in the slot before teeing off on the local nine-holer.
The correspondent, Carol Wallace, found her subject in Strathtay, about 70 miles from Edinburgh. My own experience was quite a bit more remote, in the Outer Hebrides, where Harris Golf Club maintains an honesty box -- rusted and weathered -- that looks like it came right from the prop shop. It was there where I met a twosome who reported seeing the boxes with some frequency as they played their way around the outer Scottish Isles: the Orkneys, the Hebrides and the Isle of Skye.
For enforcement, Wallace describes an arrangement whereby the greenskeeper, the course's sole employee, earns an incentive if he catches "ticketless patrons on the course." What she doesn't say is how the patron obtains a ticket, since the box in the photo doesn't appear to be automated -- as, say, a ticket dispenser at a toll booth or parking lot entrance. And the club secretary estimates that between 2 and 5 percent of the 1,400 golfers who play the course do so without paying.
The fact that the box makes financial sense for the course is supported and justified by what Styled to a Tee calls "golf's dubious ethical extrapolation." This goes roughly like this: Because golf has long been played by gentlemen who know, understand and adhere to its rules and, as it so happens, willingly and readily call penalties on themselves, anyone (and almost everyone) involved in the game -- even tangentially -- can be trusted to adhere to the highest ethical standards.
This is precarious proposition and flawed reasoning at best, and has been used to justify all matter of logic leaps, including professional golf's woefully slow move into testing competitors for use of performance-enhancing drugs. In my own humble experience, I've seen all manner of stroke shaving, rule bending, and outright cheating at many levels of the game. Some of this can be explained as ignorance, some as clearly conscious, purposeful behavior. It's my opinion that golf holds no special purchase as being absent the ethical pitfalls and malefactors who inhabit modern life.
I'd go so far as to say that the great remaining territory for the intrepid golf journalist concerns this very topic: cheating. Here are a few questions I'd welcome the opportunity to discuss.
On the issue of banned substances, notably HGH among the 50-and-over set: When participants are so incentivized but battling time and the myriad ailments that accompany aging, what might be the temptation to use a substance whose reported therapeutic effects include increased muscle mass, increased energy and resistance to injuries.
On the issue of recreational drugs, notably marijuana: Will the Tour acknowledge that players who test positive might, in fact, be seeking performance enhancement with a drug reputed to combat hypertension, calm nerves and bring a well-chronicled mellowness to users?
On the issue of square grooves vs. v-grooves: Are we to believe that no player would attempt to secure a wedge or lofted club with grooves so altered as to further enhance the ability to spin and control a golf ball out of the rough? If square grooves are better at this than v-grooves, wouldn't bigger, or deeper square grooves work even better? Beginning in 2010, the Tour is prepared to check grooves. What about the last five to 10 years of competitive golf? Did any player gain an advantage, say, making cuts, cashing lucrative checks at a greater rate or winning tournaments by exploiting technology not readily or commercially available?
Before I'm accused of painting with too broad a brush, for setting aside golf's rich tradition of honor and integrity, let me say that we live in an era of acknowledged moral and ethical laxity. It's astonishing how few ask "What's right and what's wrong?" From elected leaders (notably senators and governors) to financial titans to professional athletes of all stripes, be it baseball players, cyclists, NASCAR drivers. I'm not sure why golf, relying on a notion of competitive purity as quaint as an honesty box, continues to issue itself a perennial pass on ethical issues. -- Robert Lohrer



