Whose "spin control" is it anyway?

Kathy Shaidle of relapsed catholic brought this to our kind attention:

"Nine months ago, very few Americans were familiar with the company. It came briefly to widespread attention because of the disproportionate extent to which it suffered, losing approximately 2/3rds of its 1,000 employees headquartered in the World Trade Center.

"Now according to some critics, Cantor Fitzgerald is trying to capitalize from that tragedy in a series of nine television commercials."

The writer asks: "Is it unethical - or even immoral - to try to profit from what occurred in lower Manhattan? Should Cantor Fitzgerald use the accident of geography, that is, where it leased its corporate offices, as a marketer's call to action?"

Without reading the writer's answer, I'm going to give my own.

No. And yes. In that order.

I remember in the wake of 9/11, when the owner of Cantor Fitzgerald appeared on MSNBC. This was not a man for whom money could buy happiness. He lost not only his business, but most of the people with whom he worked every day. He had families calling him about payment of death benefits. With everything gone, he had nothing left to give that to which they were entitled. That such a dilemma tore at the man's conscience was obvious, and he showed it to the world. The one Manhattan power broker who could have earned my sympathy was on the air that night. For I thought of the days when loyalty to an employer was a two-way street; you took care of them, and they took care of you. You never spoke ill of your employer, whether within the building or without. They put bread and butter on your family's table, and clothes on the backs of your children. The least you could do was give them your best in return.

Then came the 1980s, with mergers and acquisitions, and hundreds of people let go at the drop of a hat. No time to say goodbye with a security guard standing there, while you clear your desk into a cardboard box. I know of one company, where the president announced the laying-off of several thousand employees. He and the board of directors then voted him and his 99 vice presidents huge year-end bonuses. After all, they saved the company millions.

Pigs. All of them.

In his 1891 social encyclical Rerum Novarum (On Capital and Labor), Pope Leo XIII wrote of how work was created for man, as opposed to man for work.

The man behind Cantor Fitzgerald appears to have learned his lesson. He wants to tell the world. In so doing, there may be little to distinguish him from others who would capitalize on tragedy.

Perhaps he has the right to capitalize on his own tragedy. Perhaps his comrades-in-arms do as well. I can live with this. I've seen worse. So have most of you.