Recently, one of us ( J.E.S) had the opportunity to speak with a medical student about a research rotation that the student was planning to do. She would be working with Dr. Z, who had given her the project of writing a paper for which he had designed the protocol, collected the data, and compiled the results. The student was to do a literature search and write the first draft of the manuscript. For this she would become first author on the final publication. When concerns were raised about the proposed project, Dr. Z was shocked. “I thought I was doing her a favor,” he said innocently, “and besides, I hate writing!” Dr. Z is perhaps a bit naive. Certainly, most researchers would know that the student’s work would not merit first authorship. They would know that “gift” authorship is not an acceptable research practice. However, an earlier experience in our work makes us wonder. Several years ago, in conjunction with the grant from the Fund for the Improvement of Post Secondary Education (FIPSE), a team of philosophers and scientists at Dartmouth College ran a University Seminar series for faculty on the topic “Ethical Issues in Scientific Research.” At one seminar, a senior researcher (let’s call him Professor R) argued a similar position to that of Dr. Z. In this case Professor R knew that “gift” authorship, authorship without a significant research contribution, was an unacceptable research practice. However, he had a reason to give authorship to his student. The student had worked for several years on a project suggested by him and the project had yielded no publishable data. Believing that he had a duty to the student to ensure a publication, Professor R had given the student some data that he himself had collected and told the student to write it up. The student had worked hard, he said, albeit on another project, and the student would do the writing. Thus, he reasoned, the authorship was not a “gift.” These two stories point up a major reason for encouraging courses in research ethics: Good intentions do not necessarily result in ethical decisions. Both of the faculty members in the above scenarios “meant well.” In both cases, the faculty members truly believed that what they were doing was morally acceptable. In the first case, Dr. Z’s (indefensible) error was that he was unaware of the conventions of the field. In particular, he seemed blissfully oblivious to the meaning of first authorship. In the second case, Professor R was doing what he thought best for the student without taking into consideration that morality is a public system and that his actions with regard to a single student have public consequences for the practice of science as a profession. Well-meaning scientists, such as those just mentioned, can, with the best of intentions, make unethical decisions. In some cases, such decisions may lead individuals to become embroiled in cases of misconduct. A course in research ethics can help such scientists to appreciate that it is their responsibility to know professional conventions as well as to understand the public nature of morality.