It is difficult to talk about ethics in Australia these days, because (a) the different metamoral languages make it difficult for people to communicate on moral matters; (b) there are no generally accepted criteria for assessing the meaning and truth of moral propositions; and (c) witness talks larger in these matters than theoretical expertise, and the ideals that favour the acceptance of credible role models are no longer generally accepted. We should not assume that we can say anything meaningful about “business ethics”. One reason for this arises from the Australian experience of the '80s: the fruits of a profound cynicism are now with us, as prominent figures find themselves in court to defend their actions, and seem amazed that they are accused of doing anything wrong at all. We may want to stop something like this from happening again, but if the language of business ethics meant nothing to these people, how can we hope that it will mean much to us, or to future generations? A second reason (or group of reasons) arises from the nature of ethics itself. Business ethics, after all, does not exist in a vacuum; its language will not mean much to people who do not agree on what they mean whenever they talk about right and wrong. Some people, for example, measure the rightness or wrongness of actions in terms of their consequences; for others, on the other hand, some actions are wrong, no mater what the consequences. How are they to talk to each other? What is at issue here is what ethical propositions mean, and how one can measure their truth. And there is another reason. As Socrates pointed out long ago, ethics is not a theoretical science, which can be taught and learnt as dispassionately as mathematics. It is practical, and so engages teacher and pupil in an entirely different way: one cannot say one thing, and do another. When you have read a journal like this, will you necessarily be a better person or a more honest businessman/woman?