One year ago, Jordan Gleeson accepted an upper management position at Liquide Lite, a mid-sized manufacturer of home-cleaning products founded in the nineteen fifties. She had just completed an MBA from the University of Colorado at Boulder where she had taken an excellent business ethics course that had transformed her view of business. As a result, she was determined to follow the professional maxim laid-down by two young Stanford MBAs who founded Google.com: Don't be evil. However, Gleeson had not sought out Liquide Lite because of its reputation as an ethical business; it had no such reputation to speak of. But, it did do its best to dispose of chemical wastes properly, treated its workers well, and seemed to be a basically decent company to work for. Liquide Lite had contacted Gleeson through a family connection, offering her an excellent position upon completion of her MBA. Although Gleeson knew little about the company at the outset, it seemed to present a perfect opportunity for her to gain real-world management experience and perhaps even to use some of the fresh ideas she had gained during her MBA to help take the company to the next level of success. Her first year at Liquide Lite went smoothly and Gleeson learned a lot about the daily life of being an executive. Much of what she learned was how to be a helpful and congenial team player in a staff filled with men mostly twice her age. She was settling in and beginning to feel more comfortable speaking up now and then to contribute a few ideas of her own. That's when trouble began. Gleeson had been assigned to review the efficiency of the packaging production line and managed to inexpensively reduce per-unit production time by several seconds. Emboldened by this success, she had turned her attention to other segments of production, including the testing process. During a meeting, she asked in passing about the general methodology of Liquide Lite's healthsafety tests. There was a bit of an awkward silence, and then the president, Jim Sproul, answered that it had been standard practice since the nineteen fifties to leave such scientific procedure issues to mid-level management in the research and development division. Gleeson gave a deferential "I see" and casually suggested she might take a look to see if any part of the testing process could be easily updated. Sproul said she was free to do so. The following week, Gleeson visited the testing facility and discovered some disturbing practices. In fact, she had difficulty containing her horror and dismay at what she witnessed. As it turned out, the company was still doing routine draize tests in which rabbits are immobilized in full-body restraints while a toxic substance is dripped or smeared into their eyes or onto their shaved skin. Laboratory technicians then recorded the damage at specific intervals for hours or days. Most rabbits suffered from swollen eyelids, irritated and cloudy eyes, and inflamed skin, including permanent corrosive damage such as ulcers, bleeding, bloody scabs, or blindness. Once the testing was complete, the rabbits were euthanized by injection. Gleeson had learned from her business ethics class that the FDA did not even require such tests for cosmetics and household products. Furthermore, she knew that they were not at all scientifically accurate since rabbit ocular biology was very different from that of the human eye. Most medical schools had discontinued the draize test in favor of inexpensive and more accurate alternatives such as growing human cell and tissue cultures, and applying clinical skin patches on human volunteers. As a result, Gleeson knew that many of Liquide Lite's competing products now sported the label "not tested on animals," which market research had proved attractive to certain clients. Gleeson took a couple of weeks to determine what it would take to update Liquide Lite's health-safety tests humanely and costeffectively. She then presented her report at the next meeting. After listening to her presentation, most of the executives seemed rather uncomfortable, aggravated, or aloof. Several defended that these were only rabbits and that the tests provided a cheap and adequately reliable way to protect against the worst kinds of toxins. A few even expressed slight disdain for the animal rights movement in general, claiming that it was nothing but a hyped fad propagated to shelter housewives from the inescapable fact that animal testing is here to stay, if not for cosmetics and cleaning products, then for pesticides, anti-bacterials and myriad other chemical products. Gleeson, somewhat taken aback, pointed out that whether animal testing was here to stay was only speculation, and that it was clearly no longer needed to produce safe cleaning products for the home. She also emphasized the fact that many competitors had already stopped. So ending the practice, she argued, could help the company avoid future boycotts and even boost current sales since many consumers were likely already choosing alternative products with the "nottested on animals" label. Gleeson suggested that a slightly new label design that prominently featured the claim might influence new consumers to purchase Liquide Lite's products over those of the competition since several of those companies had placed the "not-tested on animals" label in smaller print on the back. Still, it was clear she did not have the board convinced. In fact, while she might have influenced a few, including Sproul, just as many seemed to grow even more irritated at her suggestions. One pointed out that these alternatives were still rather new and had thus not yet stood the test of time. The company might have a harder time defending itself from suits if it discontinued its animal testing in favor of dubious alternatives. Instead of arguing any further, Gleeson suggested the issue be reconsidered at a future time. Gleeson was extremely frustrated that evening. Many concerns raced through her mind. She was worried that if she forced the issue again she could fall out of favor with her colleagues, grow to dislike her job, or eventually lose her position under unfavorable circumstances. Up to now, she had liked working at Liquide Lite and was not ready to start looking for a position elsewhere. On the other hand, it felt uncomfortable working with what seemed to her a large group of insensitive and backward-thinking people. She was not sure she could look at herself in the mirror and retain her professional integrity if she left the issue alone. She was also somewhat worried about being implicated in the future if the government determined draize tests to be a form of animal cruelty.

Should she attempt to bring the issue up for a vote at the next meeting? What should she do if the motion were struck down? Should she leak the information to animal rights groups and/or to the press? If she were found out, she may have to seek a career in an entirely different profession. Could she live with the thought of shelving the issue for, say, another year or so until she had more clout? Should she? Required Identify the ethical issues and how you would resolve them.