Effectiveness and giving
18/01/16 03:02
There has been some discussion in academic circles lately of what is being labeled “effective altruism.” The basic concept is that people are often ineffective and sometimes actually do harm in their choice of the charities they support and other decisions they make about doing good in the world. Five years ago, the book “Toxic Charity” by Robert Lupton began to circulate in churches and it has spurred a lot of excellent conversation about how we help others and what organizations are most effective in helping others. He speaks of “the compassion industry” and the amount of money that is given by well-meaning folks that goes to creating dependency and destroying personal initiative. The book serves as a kind of checklist of criteria that people can use to determine which actions and which charities are most effective when trying to help others. He criticizes what he calls “religious tourism,” the practice of short-term mission trips. He contrasts short term change with effective and lasting change. The book is filled with a lot of good ideas and is worth reading for those who want to think about how and why they give and how to invest their time and energy in lasting change.
Another writer whose books and ideas have been disturbing our complacency is Peter Singer. His latest book, “The Most Good You Can Do,” challenges readers to be thoughtful and careful about their decisions to live a fully ethical life. Doing “the most good you can do,” from Singer’s perspective, involves evaluating the worth of the organization or individuals that one supports.
Probably the darling of the effective altruism movement at the moment is William MacAskill, author of “Doing Good Better.” MacAskill is an Oxford researcher and a real number cruncher. He has done the hard research on a lot of different charities and attempts to help other people. He reports statistics on how many lives have been saved and which organizations are likely to be most worthy of support. He goes beyond evaluating charities, however. He addresses vocational choices in terms of how much good they do in the world. According to MacAskill, working for a non-profit isn’t necessarily the most altruistic choice. A person can achieve more good over a single lifetime by taking a highly-paid job and donating a chunk of earnings to worthwhile causes. He also provides statistics that seem to argue against local charities, preferring organizations that focus on world development rather than local causes.
These books and others of their genre are worthy endeavors and it is important for us to consider how our attempts at helping others should be examined and what different choices we might make if we take time to consider a bigger picture.
It strikes me, however, that effectiveness isn’t the only thing to consider when living an ethical life. There are several things that are not addressed in the books. Even more than the effectiveness of our giving and actions to help others, I long for meaningful conversations that reach beyond the current popular debates:
I don’t see, in any of these books, a careful and considered argument about motivation. Why do we seek to do good in the world? Why do people give? Without that consideration, one ends up with what seems to me to be a sort of enlightened self interest: we need to help others because that is what is best for us. From my point of view, there is much more to the story. Being a Christian, I am guided by the Bible’s stories of Jesus, who didn’t, it seems to me, consider the worthiness of the recipient or even the comparative value of one act over another. In one story, he heals multitudes then turns an equal amount of time and energy to raising Lazarus. Would not another day of healing the crowds have accomplished more than returning a single friend to life?
From my perspective our need to give goes far beyond the need of the recipient to receive. Our giving stems not from the need of the world to receive, but our gratitude to God for the goodness of creation.
One thing that disturbs me about the books is the quick assumption that counting the number of lives saved is the way to evaluate the effectiveness of a charity. I don’t mean to be crass, but if a human life has infinite worth, how can you assume that it is not worthy of care and compassion even though more could be saved by ignoring the one? If it comes to a choice between spending a few hours consoling a bereaved friend or using that time to earn money to give to a good cause, I believe that William MacAskill and I might make different choices.
From my perspective, the measurements and statistics of these books are based on a mistaken assumption that the world can be “fixed.” Saving thousands of lives by distributing inexpensive mosquito nets is a wonderful thing, but rather meaningless if there isn’t enough support to feed and educate those whose lives are saved.
I even question the definition of saving a life. Is counting the number of days between birth and death the only measure of the value of a life?
I am totally lost by MacAskill’s argument that choosing a lucrative career enables one to do more good. I’m sure that Bill Gates would love his book, but I find it difficult to judge that even the enormous wealth and capacity for good of the William and Melinda Gates Foundation somehow has more value than Mother Theresa’s decision to live in poverty among the street people of Calcutta. The choice of poverty as a way of life has long been one of the principles of Christian vocation.
I don’t mean to be defensive simply because I chose to become a minister rather than a plastic surgeon. I genuinely believe that some of us are not called to focus only on how much money we earn.
As for me, I will continue to consider the value of relationships above the effectiveness of charity. I suspect that the effectiveness proponents will not understand. Still, I wish for them at least one genuine passionate love, at least one connection to another human being that goes beyond the numbers, at least one sense of connection that transcends formulas and checklists.
I still believe that one relationship can make all the difference in the world.
Of course, I also believe that the gift of the widow's mite was worth more than the larger contributions of the wealthy.
Another writer whose books and ideas have been disturbing our complacency is Peter Singer. His latest book, “The Most Good You Can Do,” challenges readers to be thoughtful and careful about their decisions to live a fully ethical life. Doing “the most good you can do,” from Singer’s perspective, involves evaluating the worth of the organization or individuals that one supports.
Probably the darling of the effective altruism movement at the moment is William MacAskill, author of “Doing Good Better.” MacAskill is an Oxford researcher and a real number cruncher. He has done the hard research on a lot of different charities and attempts to help other people. He reports statistics on how many lives have been saved and which organizations are likely to be most worthy of support. He goes beyond evaluating charities, however. He addresses vocational choices in terms of how much good they do in the world. According to MacAskill, working for a non-profit isn’t necessarily the most altruistic choice. A person can achieve more good over a single lifetime by taking a highly-paid job and donating a chunk of earnings to worthwhile causes. He also provides statistics that seem to argue against local charities, preferring organizations that focus on world development rather than local causes.
These books and others of their genre are worthy endeavors and it is important for us to consider how our attempts at helping others should be examined and what different choices we might make if we take time to consider a bigger picture.
It strikes me, however, that effectiveness isn’t the only thing to consider when living an ethical life. There are several things that are not addressed in the books. Even more than the effectiveness of our giving and actions to help others, I long for meaningful conversations that reach beyond the current popular debates:
I don’t see, in any of these books, a careful and considered argument about motivation. Why do we seek to do good in the world? Why do people give? Without that consideration, one ends up with what seems to me to be a sort of enlightened self interest: we need to help others because that is what is best for us. From my point of view, there is much more to the story. Being a Christian, I am guided by the Bible’s stories of Jesus, who didn’t, it seems to me, consider the worthiness of the recipient or even the comparative value of one act over another. In one story, he heals multitudes then turns an equal amount of time and energy to raising Lazarus. Would not another day of healing the crowds have accomplished more than returning a single friend to life?
From my perspective our need to give goes far beyond the need of the recipient to receive. Our giving stems not from the need of the world to receive, but our gratitude to God for the goodness of creation.
One thing that disturbs me about the books is the quick assumption that counting the number of lives saved is the way to evaluate the effectiveness of a charity. I don’t mean to be crass, but if a human life has infinite worth, how can you assume that it is not worthy of care and compassion even though more could be saved by ignoring the one? If it comes to a choice between spending a few hours consoling a bereaved friend or using that time to earn money to give to a good cause, I believe that William MacAskill and I might make different choices.
From my perspective, the measurements and statistics of these books are based on a mistaken assumption that the world can be “fixed.” Saving thousands of lives by distributing inexpensive mosquito nets is a wonderful thing, but rather meaningless if there isn’t enough support to feed and educate those whose lives are saved.
I even question the definition of saving a life. Is counting the number of days between birth and death the only measure of the value of a life?
I am totally lost by MacAskill’s argument that choosing a lucrative career enables one to do more good. I’m sure that Bill Gates would love his book, but I find it difficult to judge that even the enormous wealth and capacity for good of the William and Melinda Gates Foundation somehow has more value than Mother Theresa’s decision to live in poverty among the street people of Calcutta. The choice of poverty as a way of life has long been one of the principles of Christian vocation.
I don’t mean to be defensive simply because I chose to become a minister rather than a plastic surgeon. I genuinely believe that some of us are not called to focus only on how much money we earn.
As for me, I will continue to consider the value of relationships above the effectiveness of charity. I suspect that the effectiveness proponents will not understand. Still, I wish for them at least one genuine passionate love, at least one connection to another human being that goes beyond the numbers, at least one sense of connection that transcends formulas and checklists.
I still believe that one relationship can make all the difference in the world.
Of course, I also believe that the gift of the widow's mite was worth more than the larger contributions of the wealthy.