The problem, alas, comes from the other direction: The student who adheres to an honor code requiring that students report violations by others is the one who faces disapproval. But the otherwise admirable loyalty that keeps young people from wanting to shoulder the responsibility for policing other students readily translates into a reluctance to blow the whistle on one's fellow investment bankers or government bureaucrats.
Does honor matter? Appiah argues that even nations can be moved by appeals to honor - not explicit moral persuasion, but a desire for the approbation of other nations. It's my impression that nations which cheat on morality, like students who cheat on exams, try to get away with what they think they can. Yet I'd like to think that Appiah is right, that there is in the human spirit something that craves not wealth or power or victory, but the comfort that comes from being right; and that deep down beneath even the partisan vainglory of our politics, a seed kernel of this desire survives.
Honor, Krause says, ought to be "transpartisan" - a virtue we admire in others and cultivate in ourselves without regard to ideological differences or careerist goals. She adds: "Honor is especially instructive for us today because of the way it connects personal ambition to principled higher purpose."
One can only hope that a transpartisan sense of honor will remind us that the virtue of the ends we seek must be mirrored by the means we chose, that losing nobly is more to be admired than winning dishonorably. Coach Labrum, in his letter explaining the suspensions, told his team: "The lack of character we are showing off the field is outshining what we are achieving on the field." If one is searching for the first principles of the life well lived, this isn't a bad place to start.
Stephen L. Carter is a Bloomberg View columnist and a professor of law at Yale University. He is the author of "The Violence of Peace: America's Wars in the Age of Obama," and the novel "The Impeachment of Abraham Lincoln."