Moral Dilemmas of Bribery: Between Survival, Fairness, and Integrity
Recently, a news has been doing rounds on social media that highlighted the exit of an importer from India due to their negative experiences with bribery with a govt department concerned with imports.
When conversations around corruption take place, bribery is usually presented in stark moral terms: as an act of dishonesty that corrodes institutions, undermines fairness, and erodes trust. And yet, in many real-life contexts, those who engage in giving or receiving bribes do not always experience it as a simple matter of right and wrong. Instead, they find themselves entangled in a series of moral dilemmas—situations where each option feels unsatisfactory, and where the choice between integrity and compromise is complicated by practical pressures, institutional rigidities, and human emotions.
Bribery is often rationalised by those involved not as corruption, but as an adjustment. Employees who are asked to work beyond official hours, for instance, may consider the “payment” offered to them not as a bribe, but as a fair and informal reward for extra effort. Contractors who hand over money to officials may think of it as a necessary step to ensure the smooth conduct of work in systems otherwise paralysed by delays. Even senior officers sometimes regard bribes less as personal enrichment than as symbolic penalties imposed on those who have erred, a way of disciplining without resorting to harsh punishments that could ruin careers.
The dilemma becomes sharper when inspections and oversight are involved. An inspecting officer who observes a discrepancy faces a difficult choice: to report it formally, with the knowledge that it may lead to severe administrative or legal consequences for the employee concerned, or to ignore it altogether, which feels unjust. In practice, some officers find a middle path: they accept money from the employee, not as personal gain in their own eyes, but as a form of informal punishment, accompanied by advice to improve in the future. Such officers even earn reputations as “practical managers” rather than corrupt individuals, because they are perceived as balancing compassion with accountability.
From another angle, bribery is sometimes framed as harmless by both giver and taker. The giver tells himself he is only compensating someone for additional inconvenience; the taker tells himself he is only receiving what the system has failed to provide formally. In this rationalisation, bribery is normalised as essential oil for the machinery of work, something that keeps processes moving where rigid rules or resource shortages would otherwise bring them to a halt. The line between gratitude, fairness, and corruption blurs until people no longer see themselves as dishonest but as realistic participants in an imperfect world.
And yet, even when rationalised, these practices generate unease. They blur moral boundaries, they spread complicity, and they create cultures where honesty becomes harder to sustain. Honest individuals working alongside those who compromise are often punished equally when things go wrong, which deepens resentment and jealousy. Over time, integrity begins to look like a liability rather than a strength, and a cycle is established in which everyone feels morally justified, but the collective suffers.
A possible way out of this dilemma is to reimagine how minor punishments or compensations are handled. Instead of bribes passing privately between two individuals, such transactions could be redirected towards public welfare. For example, when small discrepancies are discovered, the concerned individual could be asked to make a donation to a recognised NGO or social cause. This way, accountability is not abandoned, but the inspecting officer does not personally gain, the employee still feels a sense of discipline, and society benefits. Such a system would not erase the need for formal accountability, but it would reduce the moral discomfort of bribery by transforming it into something constructive.
Ultimately, the moral dilemmas of bribery show us that corruption is not always experienced by individuals as greed or malice. Often it is the result of survival instincts, fairness calculations, or attempts to balance compassion with discipline. Recognising these dilemmas is important not to excuse bribery, but to understand why it persists, and why reforms must go beyond punishment. Systems must create space for transparent rewards for extra effort, fair treatment of small mistakes, and humane accountability mechanisms. Only then can individuals be freed from the dilemmas that make bribery appear harmless, essential, or even noble.
I wish to quote Gandhiji's Talisman here, which I had read on back cover page of my NCERT school textbooks:
“I will give you a Talisman. Whenever you are In doubt, Or when the self becomes too much with you, Apply the following test: Recall the face of the poorest and the weakest man Whom you may have seen and ask yourself if the step you contemplate is going to be of any use to him. Will he gain anything by it ? Will it restore him to a control over his own life and destiny ? In other words, Will it lead to Swaraj ? For the hungry and spiritually starving millions ? Then you will find Your doubts, and Your self melting away.”
Though the Talisman may not always practically work for everyone, especially in unclear situations where one right step at a time is more likely to lead us safely across the ropewalk than to look far ahead towards a perfect solution, it still nudges one towards serving "the common good".
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