Spineless Slouch, yet Sovereign?

 “A nation that forgets how to ask ‘What is the good?’ will soon forget why it bothers to eat, sleep, build, or vote.”

They’re phasing out Ethics.

That’s not a metaphor. Not a headline you scroll past. It’s the quiet undoing of one of the last remaining things in our schools that still asks the question: "What should we do?"

 Not: "What works?"

 Not: "What’s profitable?"

 Not even: "What’s trending?"

 But simply — what’s right?

And it is being dropped like an elective, as if Ethics were optional.

They say it’s for “streamlining.” That we need more “practical” skills, more “marketable” subjects. That in a world of data and dollars, Aristotle can wait. That in a country of TikTok, truth is quaint. That in a society chasing survival, morality is a luxury we cannot afford.

But I say this: Ethics is not luxury — it is the spine.

You remove it, and the body still moves — yes. But it slouches. It limps. It kneels when it should stand.

I’ve seen how this country behaves without it.

When the truth is inconvenient, we say, "Move on."

 When the facts don’t serve the powerful, we say, "That’s your opinion."

 When a child is bullied to silence, or a worker is paid in scraps, or a leader lies with a smile — we shrug.

 Why? Because without Ethics, nothing shocks us anymore.

That is the world they are building.

 A world where values are outsourced.

 Where justice is a budget line.

 Where education teaches how to get ahead, but never when to stop.

 How to win, but never when not to.

Ethics taught us not just what to think — but how to stop and ask if we should.

And yes, sometimes, it was boring. Sometimes it was abstract. Sometimes, a student would doze off mid-Aristotle and dream of anything else.

But sometimes, it planted a seed.

 The kind that sprouts later — when a teacher holds her ground, or a graduate says “No” to corruption, or a nurse insists that every patient matters.

 That doesn’t happen by chance. That happens because someone, somewhere, in a half-lit classroom, was made to sit still and face the question:

 "What is the good?"

 Not for the grade.

 Not for the boss.

 But for the self. For the Other. For the country.

You can cut out Ethics from the syllabus. But don’t be surprised when students stop recognizing theft, because they’ve only been trained to count it.

 Don’t act confused when they can name the chemical formula of a drug, but not the value of a life.

 Don’t ask where our moral compass went — we handed it in with the course outlines.

Thus far, this is where we’ve come.

 No spine. No conscience.

 Only momentum.

But it is not too late.

 We can still say no.

 We can still say thus far — and no further.

Because a nation that forgets how to ask “What is good?”

 Will forget how to be one.