Why I Give
The first time I really thought about giving was in a high school philosophy class where I heard the following argument from the Australian philosopher Peter Singer.
The child in the pond
Imagine you are on a walk when you come across a child drowning in a shallow pond. What should you do? Of course, you wade in and save the child. So far, so easy.
Even if you are wearing nice, expensive clothes that could be ruined by a muddy pond, that is no comparison to the life of a child. Indeed, it is fortunate for the well-dressed amongst us that Australia has relatively few ponds and strong swimming programs.
However, argues Singer, we live in a world where in effect, we are constantly walking past children drowning in ponds. Every year, hundreds of thousands of children, typically in places like sub-Saharan Africa, die from causes that we in Australia have the means to prevent.
Top charity evaluator GiveWell estimates that it currently costs about $6000 AUD to distribute enough medicine or health supplementation to save a life. Just because these children are further away and out of sight does not mean they are less morally relevant. Nor does it matter morally if they are saved through a donation or because someone wrecked their nice suit.
We are obliged, says Singer, to donate and save the child. This is a powerful argument and I found it compelling, but it is also extremely demanding. There are always more children to save and more obligation to give. At least until one has given away so much as to be as poor as those they are helping.
We live in a world where in effect, we are constantly walking past children drowning in ponds.
The opportunity to help
Some years out of high school I came across a more hopeful argument from the Scottish philosopher William MacAskill.
In MacAskill’s telling, imagine you are walking along when you hear the cries of a child trapped inside a burning building. Being a Good Samaritan, you burst into the house, scoop up the child and deliver her safely outside.
You would, MacAskill argues, feel like a hero. You would probably tell your friends and when you looked back on that day later in life it would stand out as one of the best things you’d done. This feeling, and more importantly this opportunity to be a moral hero is available to us all through our donations.
From belief to action
I’m not sure if I am obliged to give, or simply have the opportunity to. However, I was convinced intellectually that I should give. I was therefore a bit surprised when I didn’t.
The child in the pond or the burning building was still an abstraction. I believed in their value, but I couldn’t fully feel it. For me the emotion, and the impetus to actually give comes from elsewhere.
The stories that changed me
A few years ago a close friend of my brother’s died suddenly in his 20s. I barely knew him personally, but I was near enough to see the wreckage that it caused to his friends and family. A single accident cost a young man his life and devastated those around him. Not long after I found myself watching a local American news clip about a mother with two young children dealing with a terminal cancer diagnosis. Hearing her speak about her children and the lives she wouldn’t witness was similarly terrible. Like most people exposed to these stories, I wished desperately that I could help. I don’t know what I would have given to be able to save their lives, but it would have been a lot. Certainly more than $6000. This feeling wasn’t related to obligation or the desire to feel like a hero, I just want to live in a world that they live in too. I will never meet the children destined to die preventable deaths, nor will I see them on the news, but I don’t care about them any less than the young mother or my brother’s friend.And these kids at least, I can help. I just want to live in a world that they live in too.
Since then I have seen more tragedy on the news and in the lives of those around me and have been similarly helpless to intervene. There is so much in the world that we can’t do. But it is also miraculous how much we can do. When I feel powerless to help those near me, I donate.Article by: Will Horan
Will Horan works in policy and lives in Adelaide. He has been involved with the effective altruism community since 2019 and is a member of Giving What We Can. When he’s not working, you’ll find him outside, or losing at a board game.
