Some may argue that the Effective Altruists get a little carried away. EA leader Will MacAskill became enamored with the principles of utilitarianism as a teenager and, by graduate school, had transformed this philosophy into a way of living. He would order water at the pub and then use the glass to nurse a lager he’d bought at the corner market. For dinner, MacAskill would eat the bread he’d baked at home. Even now, MacAskill, who is a professor at Oxford, lives on about $30,000 and gives the rest away. He has essentially taken a vow of poverty for the moral principles of effective altruism.
MacAskill’s devotion begs the question: does giving have to hurt to be good?
I am no effective altruist, that’s for sure. I am used to my creature comforts and have no desire to live a life of austerity. But I do experience some pain when it comes to giving. I especially feel the sting of making year-end donations and wince a bit at my resulting bank balance.
I would imagine it’s because gifts, which come with a bit of sacrifice, are meaningful to me. But, throughout the year, I readily respond to a number of crowd-funding requests. I am happy to help a familiar cause or a friend in need and, while I receive some pleasure from these small acts of altruism, I hardly consider it sacrificial.
Does it mean that these gifts are less important than the big ones I make at year-end? Sometimes my smaller gifts seem to have more personal meaning. Maybe it’s because a gift to the food pantry directly helps those who are food-insecure. Or, I feel satisfaction knowing that my donation, along with others, provided just enough support for a student to stay in college.
Perhaps the answer lies with the ancient Greeks, who introduced the concept of eudaimonia. The term is best translated as fulfillment, which is not to be confused with achieving happiness. What distinguishes the two is pain. The Greeks acknowledged that true fulfilment came at a cost, sometimes suffering physically or bearing an emotional cost. Through a state of eudaimonia we may access something deeper and more profound than simply achieving happiness.
In modern-day parlance, positive psychology expert Martin Seligman describes hedonic happiness as the counterpoint to eudaimonia. The hedonic view suggests that people are happiest when their lives are filled with positive experiences and emotions, keeping the negative at bay. Eudaimonia happens when we seek to fulfill our purpose beyond simple gratification.
But why can’t we experience both hedonic pleasure and eudaimonia from our giving? Is it really a dichotomous choice? I get a spark of joy by responding to an online appeal that speaks to me in the moment. But I also feel deeply connected to the causes that reflect my core beliefs and values. And even if it stings just a bit to make certain gifts, there is great satisfaction in knowing that I’m giving with purpose.
In his Giving Pledge statement, tech billionaire Eric Lefkovsky acknowledged that making the pledge was easy for him. He had everything that he could possibly need and giving was relatively painless. But his self-awareness also led to this observation: “for the vast majority of people who are tirelessly devoted to a particular cause; devoted to making the world a better place – giving is hard. When you’re barely able to pay the bills, every dollar matters. When you’re working around the clock and raising a family, every minute counts. Yet, remarkably, people still find a way to give.”
And this almost certainly involves some beautiful act of sacrifice.