Giving Your All
CARE is a noble organization
that fights starvation. It would like your support. The American Cancer Society
is a noble organization that fights disease. It would like your support, too.
Here's my advice: If you're feeling very charitable, give generously--but don't
give to both of them.
Giving to either agency is a
choice attached to a clear moral judgment. When you give $100 to CARE, you
assert that CARE is worthier than the cancer society. Having made that
judgment, you are morally bound to apply it to your next $100 donation.
Giving $100 to the cancer society tomorrow means admitting that you were wrong
to give $100 to CARE today.
You might protest that you
diversify because you don't know enough to make a firm judgment about where
your money will do the most good. But that argument won't fly. Your
contribution to CARE says that in your best (though possibly flawed) judgment,
and in view of the (admittedly incomplete) information at your disposal, CARE
is worthier than the cancer society. If that's your best judgment when you
shell out your first $100, it should be your best judgment when you shell out
your second $100.
When it
comes to managing your personal portfolio, economists will tell you to
diversify. When it comes to handling the rest of your life, we give you exactly
the same advice. It's a bad idea to spend all your leisure time playing
golf; you'll probably be happier if you occasionally watch movies or go sailing
or talk to your children.
So why is charity different? Here's the reason: An
investment in Microsoft can make a serious dent in the problem of adding some
high-tech stocks to your portfolio; now it's time to move on to other
investment goals. Two hours on the golf course makes a serious dent in the
problem of getting some exercise; maybe it's time to see what else in life is
worthy of attention. But no matter how much you give to CARE, you will
never make a serious dent in the problem of starving children. The
problem is just too big; behind every starving child is another equally
deserving child.
That is
not to say that charity is futile. If you save one starving child, you have
done a wonderful thing, regardless of how many starving children remain. It is
precisely because charity is so effective that we should think seriously
about where to target it, and then stay focused once the target is chosen.
People constantly ignore my good advice by
contributing to the American Heart Association, the American Cancer Society,
CARE, and public radio all in the same year--as if they were thinking, "OK, I
think I've pretty much wrapped up the problem of heart disease; now let's see
what I can do about cancer." But such delusions of grandeur can't be very
common. So there has to be some other reason why people diversify their
giving.
I think I
know what that reason is. You give to charity because you care about the
recipients, or you give to charity because it makes you feel good to give. If
you care about the recipients, you'll pick the worthiest and "bullet"
(concentrate) your efforts. But if you care about your own sense of
satisfaction, you'll enjoy pointing to 10 different charities and saying, "I
gave to all those!"
Here's a thought experiment for charitable diversifiers.
Suppose you plan to give $100 to CARE today and $100 to the American Cancer
Society tomorrow. Suppose I mention that I plan to give $100 to CARE today
myself. Do you say, "Oh, then I can skip my CARE contribution and go directly
on to the American Cancer Society?" I bet not.
But if my $100
contribution to CARE does not stop you from making CARE your first priority,
then why should your $100 contribution to CARE (today) stop you from
making CARE your first priority tomorrow? Apparently you believe that your $100
is somehow more effective or more important than my $100. That's either a
delusion of grandeur or an elevation of your own desire for satisfaction above
the recipients' need for food.
We have been told on
reasonably high authority that true charity vaunteth not itself; it is not
puffed up. You can puff yourself up with thank-you notes from a dozen
organizations, or you can be truly charitable by concentrating your efforts
where you believe they will do the most good.
Early in this century, the eminent economist Alfred
Marshall offered this advice to his colleagues: When confronted with an
economic problem, first translate into mathematics, then solve the problem,
then translate back into English and burn the mathematics. I am a devotee of
Marshall's and frequently follow his advice. But in this instance, I want to
experiment with a slight deviation: Rather than burn the mathematics, I will
make it available as a link.
I propose to establish the
following proposition: If your charitable contributions are small relative to
the size of the charities, and if you care only about the recipients (as
opposed to caring, say, about how many accolades you receive), then you will
bullet all your contributions on a single charity. That's basically a
mathematical proposition, which I have translated into English in this column.
If you want to see exactly what was gained or lost in translation (and if you
remember enough of your freshman calculus to read the original), then .
