Ethical Dilemma Case Study: Christopher Thomas Knight

Ironically the week we look at ethical dilemmas in the English 301 class I'm teaching this semester, I start reading Michael Finkel’s book “The Stranger in the Woods: The Extraordinary Story of the Last True Hermit,” which focuses on the life of Christopher Thomas Knight, a man who lived for more than 25 years on his own, in the woods, using food and supplies he stole from nearby cabins and a summer camp for disabled children.

(If you haven’t read the book but want to, warning: Spoilers ahead.)

Finkel opens his book with the story of Knight’s last burglary at Pine Tree Camp, the night he’s caught by fish and game officer Terry Hughes, thus:

The hermit zigzags across the camp and stops at a specific rock, turns it over, brags the key hidden beneath, and pockets it for later use. Then he climbs a slope to the parking lot and tests each vehicle’s doors. A Ford pickup opens. He clicks on his pen-light and peeks inside.

Candy! Always good. Ten rolls of Smarties, tossed in the cup holders. He stuffs them in another pocket. He also takes a rain poncho, unopened in its packaging, and a silver-colored Armitron analog watch. It’s not an expensive watch – if it looks valuable, the hermit will not steal it. He has a moral code. But extra watches are important; when you live outside with rain and snow, breakage is inevitable.

The hermit has a moral code. He steals, but nothing valuable. His thefts – he estimates he committed more than a thousand burglaries in the time he spent living in a clearing in the tangled woods not far from his boyhood home in Albion, Maine – small things for the most part, things people would be embarrassed to contact the police about: D-cell batteries. Packaged food. Used books. The occasional pair of jeans or a sleeping bag. He stole mattresses and propane tanks and portable radios. He stole hand-held gaming systems, but never anything that looked new – he didn’t want to steal any kid’s new birthday or Christmas toy – and figured he’d steal them in a few years when the newness was worn off a bit.

He admits, Finkel writes, that with every theft, he felt a burning shame.

But he stole to live.

Thus the dilemma.

Victor Hugo, famously, wrote an entire book about such a dilemma: A man sent to prison for the crime of stealing bread to feed his family.

What to do?

I’m still reading the book. When I finish, I’ll share any ethical discussion that comes of it. But my preliminary conclusion: It’s hard to be good.

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