Jamie is a round and dynamic character whose professional actions catalyze the story’s moral crisis and fuel the theme The Diffusion of Moral Responsibility in a Corporate World. Initially, he is presented as the good-natured, successful, and well-adjusted son, a stark contrast to his anxious mother and sister. Rocky describes him as a “puppy of a person—all friendliness and agreeable curiosity” (78), an image of warmth and affability that is later complicated by the ethical implications of his work. As a junior analyst at Dickens, a massive consulting firm, Jamie’s job is to assess risk and increase profits for corporate clients, a role that implicates him in the death of Miles Zapf.

Jamie’s character forces a confrontation with the uncomfortable reality of corporate ethics, where human lives can become part of a financial calculation. He explains that his team’s work for the railroad company, RCX, involved identifying “acceptable risk” (133) and creating a “slide deck” (134) that affirmed the company’s own cost-cutting plans, which included deferring crucial safety repairs. The accident involving Miles Zapf transforms Jamie from a symbol of conventional success into the human face of a systemic moral failure. His involvement creates a rift within his family, particularly between him and his mother, who struggles to reconcile her love for him with the devastating consequences of his professional advice. His situation demonstrates how modern corporate structures create a dangerous distance between decision-makers and the real-world impact of their recommendations. Jamie also highlights how good people can be complicit in tragedy.

Ultimately, Jamie is not a one-dimensional villain but a young man caught in a morally compromising system. His wife, Maya, suggests he is having a “harder time with everything than you might think” (188), and Jamie eventually confesses to his mother that he feels worse than she might imagine. He admits that the work has a “pretty disappointing mission” (133) and acknowledges the ethical ambiguity of his firm advising competing interests like a railroad company and the federal body that regulates it. This internal conflict culminates in his decision to consider a new job in philanthropic consulting, a move that signifies a shift in his values and an attempt to align his work more closely with his conscience. His evolution from a seemingly unconflicted corporate analyst to someone actively seeking a more ethical professional path makes him a dynamic character whose journey is central to the novel’s moral core.

Nick serves as a foil to his wife, Rocky. He is a round, static character whose calm and practical nature provides a constant counterpoint to Rocky’s pervasive anxiety. A physical therapist by trade, he approaches life’s problems with a steady, hands-on demeanor, whether he is fixing a ceiling fan or attempting to soothe his wife’s fears. His initial reaction to Rocky’s rash is a dismissive shrug and a guess of “Spider bites?” (3), and this blasé response establishes his tendency to downplay the catastrophic possibilities that consume his wife’s imagination. Whereas Rocky’s mind immediately leaps to the worst-case scenario, Nick’s impulse is to “cross that bridge when you come to it” (66). This fundamental difference in their dispositions creates a central dynamic in their relationship, and his comparative ease emphasizes the intensity of Rocky’s internal state.

Despite his inability to fully inhabit Rocky’s anxious worldview, Nick is an unwavering source of love and support. He drives her to numerous medical appointments, offers physical comfort, and attempts to distract her from her worries with simple pleasures like popcorn and television. He is the grounding force in the family, providing stability amidst the emotional turmoil. However, he sometimes takes his laid-back approach a bit too far. When the truth about Jamie’s involvement in the train accident emerges, Nick’s initial reaction is to simplify the moral complexity, arguing, “It’s not like our son killed him” (112). Yet even though his perspective is less emotionally nuanced than Rocky’s, it stems from a protective instinct toward his son. Beneath his relaxed exterior, he prioritizes family unity and tries to mitigate conflict, acting as a mediator between Rocky’s moral anguish and Jamie’s professional entanglement.

Willa is Rocky and Nick’s daughter, and she functions as both a reflection of her mother’s anxiety and as the family’s uncompromising moral compass. She shares a diagnosis of generalized anxiety disorder with Rocky, and in Willa, this dynamic manifests in a similar tendency toward catastrophic thinking and deep empathy. Mother and daughter’s shared vulnerability creates a powerful bond between them, making Willa acutely sensitive to the emotional currents within the family. Her immediate grief upon learning of Miles Zapf’s death, a boy she barely knew, reveals her capacity for empathy, as she cries because his death “feels so close to us” (10).

Willa also voices the sharpest ethical critiques of the situation involving her brother, Jamie. She possesses a clarity that cuts through the moral ambiguity that Rocky struggles with. When she learns that Jamie’s firm, Dickens, advises both the railroad company and the federal agency responsible for its oversight, she immediately identifies the conflict of interest as “sleazy” (142). Although harsh, her judgment reflects the severity of the ethical breach. 

Furthermore, her reaction to Jamie’s direct involvement is extreme, for when she becomes physically ill, this is a manifestation of her moral revulsion. For Willa, the issue is not complex. She serves as a vital narrative device, refusing to accept the diffusion of responsibility that the corporate world, and even her own family members, might be tempted to allow. In a moment of striking insight, she warns her mother not to “make a case for [Miles’s] suicide so you can imagine that Jamie’s blameless” (152), forcing Rocky to confront her own motivations. Willa’s unwavering moral stance ensures that the human cost of the tragedy is never minimized or excused.

Rocky’s father provides both comic relief and a representation of grief, aging, and the persistence of love. Recently widowed, he has moved into the in-law apartment behind his daughter’s house, a proximity that integrates him fully into the family’s daily life. He is defined by his cantankerous demeanor, his litany of minor complaints, and his adherence to long-held habits. This crankiness, however, is a thin veil for his deep sorrow over the loss of his wife and his fierce, if sometimes gruffly expressed, love for his family. His presence consistently brings the past into the present, as his memories of his wife offer glimpses into the family’s history and underscore the connection between loss and memory. When he incessantly chides Rocky for not preparing Thanksgiving food like his wife would, Rocky recognizes his pain and notes, “Grief is like the sound of the exhaust fan over the stove—a constant hum that recedes a little to the background over time, though you never get to turn it off” (182). Her father’s repeated complaints, sprinkled with memories of his wife, emphasize the lingering nature of grief and how love does not disappear with death. His ultimate decision to return to his apartment in New York reveals a desire to retain his independence and to not be a “lumpy dependent” (208), adding a layer of dignity and complexity to his character.

Miles Zapf is a flat character who functions as the catalyst for the novel’s central conflict and advances the thematic focus on The Diffusion of Moral Responsibility in a Corporate World. He is dead before the story begins, his life and personality revealed only through the memories of others and his lingering social media presence. His death in the collision between his car and a freight train is the incident that forces the narrator’s family to confront the moral complexities of corporate negligence. The ambiguity surrounding his death, whether it was an accident or a suicide, becomes a central question in the investigation. Despite evidence that Miles enjoyed life and participated in a robust dance community, the railroad company subtly promotes the suicide narrative to evade liability. Ultimately, Miles represents the random nature of tragedy and the human cost of decisions made in distant boardrooms.