I actually find the licence plate one a bit... frustrating? Firstly, I didn't feel like the context of it was properly framed. It seems acknowledging the man at all dooms you, based on encountering that event twice; I expected more randomness too, as with the other events, such as a parent or other adult intervening, or the man being genuine.
Secondly, I find it improbable for every child to encounter the murderous pedophile. Thirdly, I'm not sure what the event is meant to test. Some of the events seem to test you as the player, especially the knowledge type ones. Others test your desires and expectations on how to shape your alter ego. Given most of us are past the 'don't talk to strangers' age, I'd find it odd if it were testing you on this, and it seems like a strange dead-end: either you survive by being psychic and, using player knowledge, ignore the bad man, or you let your guard down for a second and die for even talking to him, even if it's in character for your alter-ego. I didn't see the moral dilemma there. There are a few in the game, but I didn't consider that to be one of them.
Also, I don't get how the licence plate is significant, although it was mentioned and I checked it expecting it to be something obvious, but nothing stood out.
This game does have moral consequences, and that's what I enjoyed the most and is what really makes morality in games, for me. While some smart alec could reverse engineer and expose all the internals of the game, that'd subtract from the magic. Keeping the stat changes somewhat distanced and under the covers stops you from min-maxing too much, and the flaws are just as interesting as the qualities in terms of game play. What really compels me is the consequences of your actions, especially with the random element thrown in. Sometimes people will react unpredictably badly to a good choice, or a bad choice/lazy choice will result in unexpected benefits. People don't always react in direct proportion to intention, as intention doesn't always show in action or the subsequence interpretation.
Most modern games have what I term as proscriptive morality- the developer has some internal notion of morality by which all your actions are judged, making your character evil/good or renegade/paragon or open palm/closed fist good/bad karma. By following this absolutist morality to the extreme, often certain choices can be unlocked or benefits are offered.
What it really feels like is some unspoken contract between the developer and the player- there is one dimension to this character, which varies from black to white. It is likely you will follow it mostly through to one extreme or the other (or stay grey, for the oft neglected third option) and maybe play through the game (extended replay) for the other extreme. This will never be fully fulfilling and in fact leads to only two (or three) replays. It also can lead to jarring disjoints where a player may have different intentions for a given action, which is then judged badly by the absolutist morality system and can really jolt you out of the experience.
What Alter Ego gets right is giving you pure feedback, unbiased, un-judged. Showing the best intentions, you may sympathise with your Dad who's lost his job and is feeling very bleak about life, but he may lash out, despite your high family sphere; it certainly biases it towards a good result, but it doesn't guarantee it. While some cogs turn in the background and the game subtracts a few points off a stat, I'm instead reading into a simple paragraph so much about a father that never even existed. I'm becoming invested in this character, despite my best intentions being spurned. I feel genuine sympathy for his plight and frustration over being unable to help him.
The other encounter I had with a similar, powerful sensation was during a Dark Side run of KOTOR2. Aside from the wonderful Kreia and her hard to impress (sometimes impossible) ways, and morally grey take on what's normally a very polarised universe, there was one scene that I couldn't chose for the dark points. I had many, so skipping it was an option, but I was immersed enough in the game that the sheer despair of my victim actually disgusted myself for inflicting that upon him. I save-scummed and took the higher road to soothe my own conscience.
That's what games need if they want to really portray morality in games. No morality at all, at least on their part, only consequences. If you can involve the player deep enough in the game that they actually feel involved enough to pass their own moral judgement on the actions taken on their behalf in the game, you don't need a morality meter, just good questions, unpredictable (but weighted) outcomes, and your own conscience making you uncomfortable. I think I could handle playing the Dark Side again, but only with a detached disgust for the character I would play- it is, after all, a role-playing game and not all roles are idealised reflections of ourselves.