Question: My colleague "Phoebe" is a fraud, and the rest of us in the department have known it for years. Her dissertation, which she claimed was original work, is actually a translation of another scholar's dissertation in an obscure language, with a few extra pieces thrown in.

But no one confronts Phoebe, because she does what we don't want to -- she runs the language lab. She also does it superbly, serving as a mentor to countless students. Still, she doesn't have an honest Ph.D., and some new colleagues believe we ought to expose her to somebody -- her grad school, our department chair, our human resources staff, our dean, the local sensationalist paper....

We suspect that the dean and other administrators already know, but don't want to be bothered. She's now coming up for contract renewal -- but if we get rid of her, we may wind up with someone who won't run the language lab so conscientiously and cheerfully. Sometimes we think we should just continue our silence, since we don't have tenure, and the only reason to speak out is for Justice and Fairness, things that we've seen don't exist anyway.

Answer: Ms. Mentor hears a chorus of her readers bellowing: "Fire Phoebe!"

After all, if Phoebe is a vile plagiarist, and if we condone such academic dishonesty, we are violating the most sacred canons of truth and original inquiry and throwing offal on the ivory tower.

But....

Phoebe does her job magnificently, and the world of language teaching needs Phoebes to inspire students. Would an outsider with a pristine Ph.D. do better?

Ms. Mentor, in her perfect wisdom, sees two competing ethical systems in your letter. One is the role of rules in academe, the abstract absolutes that are supposed to govern our lives. The other is the ethic of care for others, the responsibility to students. (Scholars of ethics will recognize these competing beliefs from Carol Gilligan's A Different Voice, as well as Portia's speech on justice and mercy in The Merchant of Venice.)

If Phoebe is fired, the rule-mongers will be satisfied -- but students will lose.

And yet, can you simply ignore what you know about Phoebe's dissertation?

You already have. Stringent academics might view you and your colleagues as accessories, handmaidens to a coverup. If you do decide to denounce her, how can you explain your silence in the past? And won't the bad publicity make your dean very, very angry? And if your dean is the punitive sort, and you come up for tenure...?

By now Ms. Mentor's readers are frothing and fuming in all directions. She urges them to sit down, have a cold drink, think deep ethical thoughts, and ponder parallel situations.

Jayson Blair, for instance, famously fabricated stories in The New York Times, misleading his readers about the Washington-area snipers, Jessica Lynch, and much more. He was fired, as were his bosses.

Meanwhile Quincy Troupe, named as the first poet laureate of California, was discovered not to have the college degree that he claimed -- though he had published 13 books and served as a mentor to hundreds of budding writers. He was fired as poet laureate.

Ms. Mentor agrees that Jayson Blair should have been bounced, but wonders about Quincy Troupe, 62 years old, with decades of accomplishments. Did a degree matter at that point? Why didn't his undergraduate college simply award him an honorary degree?

She returns now, more calmly, to creative solutions for Phoebe and the colleagues who know that her dissertation is less than original, but who value her contributions to teaching.

Phoebe is not exactly a plagiarist. She is an appropriator. Since her degree is in foreign languages, a field where translations are acceptable dissertation topics, it could be said that her dissertation is merely mislabeled. Instead of calling it an original piece of work, she and her committee should have called it a translation with commentary. Ms. Mentor wonders if Phoebe's graduate school would be amenable to such a labeling change.

Meanwhile, Phoebe's job may also be mislabeled. Since language-lab coordinators are not always required to hold Ph.D.'s, perhaps the job could be readvertised as a master's-level position. Phoebe would then qualify as an outstanding internal candidate.

Ms. Mentor, with infinite tact, rarely tells people what they must do. But she insists that they consider alternatives, and envision where each path will lead them. Often what seems to be the path of righteousness is also the path of shooting oneself in the foot.

Phoebe has made a mistake, but she may very well be a sinner worth saving for a higher good.

Question: Is academe as corrupt and devious as you sometimes say it is?

Answer: Sometimes.

SAGE READERS: Which will kill you first, teaching or administration? Ms. Mentor asked last month, and her correspondents were unanimous: Administration is the true assassin. You are blamed for everything; former friends snarl at you or confess things you don't want to know; deans hate your arguing for resources; and alumni are sure you're selling out their beloved college. One correspondent, chained to his office "on the off chance that somebody is going to need my signature," used the time wisely -- by writing to Ms. Mentor on the woe that is in administration.

As always, Ms. Mentor welcomes queries, rants, and gossip, and reminds readers that her mission is not to discuss overt procedures but to grub around in the underbelly of academe, sniffing out venal little secrets. Others may look for stats, but Ms. Mentor looks for sins.

Ms. Mentor especially invites correspondence on past feuds (do you tell all to new faculty members?) and on religion on campus (what do you do if students pray over your hamburger?) Anonymity is guaranteed, and identifying details are always changed.