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Open
Letter on Philanthropic Values |
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7 June, 2000 Dear Carol: You asked me about
philanthropic values and I didn’t give you a satisfactory answer.
Let me try again. Over the years
I’ve talked about philanthropy as being “moral at its core.” I like the distinction H. W. Fowler made between “morals”
as being about behavior, and “ethics” as being thought about that
behavior. Whether we think
about it (think ethically) or not, our interventions in other people’s
lives for their benefit is moral action.
So the core value of philanthropy is morality.
The other night I
may have used the phrase, “the capacity to respond to others in need
is a defining characteristic of being human,” so that humans are
beings capable of moral judgment and action, although not all humans are
equal in these matters or any other.
Another caution: As with so many values we often lose touch with
their deeper meaning, just as we often fail to act according to the
values we proclaim. The
Greeks fretted a lot over “weakness of will," knowing the right
thing to do but not doing it. Another way to
express the idea of philanthropic values is to distinguish among
government, the market, and philanthropy by identifying the “essential
defining term” of each one. An
essential defining term is one which, if removed, causes the concept
itself to collapse. Hence, I argue that the essential defining term (the core
value, if you will) of government is power (the legitimate right to use
coercion; without that no concept of government can be sustained); the
essential defining term of the market is wealth (the right to acquire,
use, or dispose of property as we choose); and the essential defining
term of philanthropy is morality (the “right” to help others in need
or to act voluntarily to improve the quality of life). I’m getting ahead
of myself. Your question
has prompted me to review the way I’ve taught and written about
philanthropic values in recent years.
You may get more about this subject than you bargained for. Two dictionary
definitions, one from a dictionary of philosophy and the other from a
dictionary of psychology, both recent: the philosopher makes two
distinctions, the first dealing with purpose and process, the other
dealing with extrinsic and intrinsic values.
Purpose (teleology) is about ends, what one authority refers to
as terminal values; process (deontology or duty) is about means, or
instrumental values. Something
has extrinsic value if it leads to an end (e.g., exercise), and
intrinsic value if it is valued for itself alone (e.g., health). The psychologist
comes closer to what you had in mind with his second definition: “An
abstract and general principle concerning the patterns of behavior
within a particular culture or society which, through the process of
socialization, the members of that society hold in high regard.
These social values, as they are often called, form central
principles around which individual and societal goals can become
integrated. Classic examples are freedom, justice, education, etc.” –
and philanthropy. (I’ll
send you the sources of these things if you want them.) The Latin words
benevolence and beneficence bring out an important point: philanthropy
implies action rather than (merely) feeling.
Kant once wrote that “It is impossible to conceive anything at
all in the world, or even out of it, which can be taken as good without
qualification, except a good will.”
Philanthropy would not make so large a claim about itself, but if
there is such a thing as “true” philanthropy, it is concern for
others (benevolence) expressed in acts of good will (beneficence). The notion of value
and values these days is murkier than ever. This (Saturday)
morning’s Indianapolis Star-News carries a section of “Faith and
Values,” presumably meaning religious values – including charity --
that influence or shape social values.
The Business section doesn’t carry such a label, but it could
be called “Market Values,” celebrating self-interest, nor does the
general news section identify itself as focusing on “Political
Values,” celebrating the exercise of power.
(As far as I know, there is still no daily newspaper that carries
a regular section devoted to philanthropy, although there has been a
steady increase in press attention to philanthropy over the past twenty
years.) Several decades ago the idea of “values clarification” was introduced in education, a desirable goal no doubt, but also very controversial: whose values are to be taught? These are the values I have discerned in philanthropy when philanthropy is true to itself: Compassion:
responding to others in need when things go wrong; acts of charity, mercy,
relief. Community:
responding to opportunities to improve the quality of life because things
can always be better; acts of benevolence, justice, development.
Both of these are based on the fundamental value of altruism,
regard for others, self-and-others. Reciprocity: Here the philanthropic value is serial reciprocity, repaying the good things done for us by the good things we do for others in turn. What a sociologist called “the norm of reciprocity” – quid pro quo – governs the first two sectors but not the third. Stewardship: another philanthropic value with economic roots. The original idea of the steward identified someone charged with caring for the property of someone else. Religious tradition made God the “someone else.” That’s at the high end; at the low end, stewardship has been degraded to mean the annual fund drive of the church. Finally, Chester
Barnard alerted me (in his book The Functions of the Executive, first
published in 1938) to the difference between effectiveness in achieving a
goal and efficiency in the use of resources.
When we become engaged with the well-being of children or
protection of the environment (where neither has a voice of its own), we
may lose some of our commitment to the terminal goal of effectiveness by
attending too carefully to the instrumental goal of efficiency.
The most common example of this is the loss of mission that many
organizations suffer over time. The
survival or well-being of the organization becomes an end in itself,
supplanting concern for the cause that brought it into being in the first
place. The instrument becomes the end.
An ethicist named Kenneth Goodpaster coined the word teleopathy (“sickness
of purpose,” if you will) to identify that failure. If football is
basically about blocking and tackling, as Vince Lombardi said,
philanthropy is about ethics and values. Bruce tells me copies
of my book have surfaced and many of these things are discussed there.
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