If it ought to be done, why don’t you do it?

Living in Los Angeles has thousands of perks. It also has a few downsides. One of those downsides showed up on my apartment building’s driveway the other day, in the from of urine in a water bottle. When you gotta go, you gotta go, I guess, so someone decided to go in a water bottle and leave it in the driveway. I get it. We’ve all been there.

But then, there was a bottle of piss in my driveway. I don’t own the building. I usually don’t even park my car in the garage. I certainly didn’t want to touch that bottle. Obviously, this was someone else’s problem.

The bottle of urine remained. 

After a day or two, I started to feel convicted. “If it ought to be done, why don’t you do it?” a voice in my head inquired. Eventually, I grabbed a plastic bag, used it to pick up the bottle, and threw it away. 

I write this not to pat myself on the back. There have been thousands of times when I ought to have done something good, but I chose not to do it—often to the detriment of others. If you’re looking for a model citizen, don’t look here. 

I write this to pose a question I’ve been wrestling with recently, mostly thanks to the arguments Ryan Holiday presents in his book Right Thing, Right Now. “If it ought to be done, why don’t you do it?” This question takes on a different tone in light of assassination attempts and successes of the past year. If these are so morally cut and dry, why haven’t you done it yet? 

Luckily, most of the morality we’re faced with on a daily basis is not up for debate. Be patient and kind. Help those who are hungry. Clean up the piss bottle. It’s the right thing to do. 

My late father always repeated a mantra to me and my brothers when we were boys. “I am the one who must do the right thing.” The onus is on me and me alone.