If I go to Florida, am I behaving ethically by eating food grown there? What if I eat New-York-grown food there? What if I bring New-York-grown food with me to Florida and share it with a friend? Am I the only one of the two of us that is behaving ethically in that scenario? Is the very fact of my traveling to Florida the unethical part?
What if certain customers just don’t have great taste? Or, more precisely, what if their tastes don’t match up with those of the rest of the population? Positive feedback and early sales from these customers might actually not be good news—they could be a sign that the product’s going to tank
At least once a week, I have a conversation with a founder that wants to design something that mimics an Apple product. Maybe it’s a surface with no ejector pin marks, or some complex texturing, or laser drilled holes, it doesn’t really matter: it’s impossible for a startup to do certain things. “But no,” they say, “Apple does it. Why can’t I?”
A Jew can’t demand that a Shabbos goy perform work for him, so he can’t expect it either. This puts Shabbos goys in a unique position. Their primary qualification is that they are not Jewish—that they do not belong. Yet in order to choose to help a community, they must also feel in some way that they belong. They must have some simple affection for its people, patience enough to deal with little old, blue-haired ladies. They need trans-religious goodwill.
Millions of people participate in English-language mailing lists for using and developing open source because it’s the most common language among participants. But for many, it’s not their first (or even second, or third) language and the only practice they may get with written English is participating on FLOSS mailing lists. So, along with a variety of cultural perspectives, you also get some folks whose English skills (or their estimation of their English skills) are less than perfect.