WHAT ABOUT BEING A SHAREHOLDER in a company and simultaneously disliking the policies of its CEO?

By Kwame Anthony Appiah

Today, The New York Times Magazine’s Ethicist columnist answers a reader’s question about holding stock in a company whose public stances you disagree with.

About a year and a half ago, I bought shares in an artificial-intelligence company. The stock has since risen sixfold, making me significant profits. But the company’s C.E.O. recently made political comments that I strongly disagree with. Despite these comments, the company’s stock continues to climb, and as the leader in its space, the company’s value will likely only increase.

the law, to shape public policies that affect their enterprises. Although many of us would like to see more limits on the use of donations to secure influence — it would be nice if our democracy didn’t come with a V.I.P. lounge — we must acknowledge that a company and its competitors will pursue their interests by the rules currently in place.

At the same time, corporate leaders are entitled to speak as citizens, even if the success of their businesses is what gives them a megaphone. Should we try to punish companies for the political speech of their leaders?

It’s complicated. On the one hand, C.E.O.s are the faces and voices of their organizations. If an executive’s stance offends a significant group of people, a stock dip feels like the natural consequence in a free market. On the left and the right, people vote with their wallets. Penalizing the company, via lost business, could pressure leaders to weigh their words more carefully. That’s not inherently unjust — actions have consequences.

On the other hand, holding a company liable for one person’s speech blurs the line between individual and collective responsibility. Employees didn’t sign off on the C.E.O.’s remarks — why should they bear the brunt? And people who run corporations are citizens, too, with all the rights of citizens. Nor would we want a turnabout situation in which, say, a fried-chicken chain denied you service because you complained about how its birds were raised.

So you might think about what the C.E.O.’s stance actually influences. Is it just static on social media, or does it shape corporate decisions in a consequential way? Even if it does, there’s a big difference between a shareholder’s solitary sell-off and an organized divestment campaign. Unless you invest on a Warren Buffett-like scale, your entrance and exit will ripple the market about as much as  pebble plonked in the Pacific. By contrast, when you join a campaign, you’re asking not simply “Am I OK with this?” but “Can we bring about something better?” The focus is less on your solitary contribution and more on systemic impact. You’ll still want to be strategic. In a polarized world, boycotts can spur counterboycotts. (Look at Target’s Pride rollback, in which both sides lashed out.)

But no, owning shares in MegaCorp doesn’t make you the evil sidekick to the villain in charge. Indeed, as you note, the policy you’re considering isn’t obviously one you could universalize. If you own stock in lots of companies — say, through a mutual fund or retirement plan — you’re connected to a whole circus of C.E.O.s, and no doubt some will have voiced opinions you’d find objectionable. We’re all interconnected in economic webs too tangled to fully comprehend, let alone sanitize. If your investment is paying off handsomely, perhaps the best approach isn’t divestment but redirection: Channel some of those profits toward causes you believe in. Civic engagement and advocacy for values you hold dear are more likely to create meaningful change than trying to curate a politically pristine investment portfolio.