Philanthropy as Moral Discourse
Part 3 of 3
"Almost
every day of my life," he writes in a New
York Times column, "I see a body sprawled on the sidewalk.... Some show
signs of life; others are totally still. I assume they are all alive but I never
stop to find out or even bend over to see if I could possibly be of some
help."
The
familiarity in large cities in the United States of the people wrapped in
cardboard," those "bag ladies shuffling in the night streets to keep warm," is
acute and distressing. Rosenthal's failure to do anything about their plight
leads him to classify himself among those moral cowards who failed to come to
the help of Kitty Genovese. He is angry—at himself and "at the cops and the
hospital people for not taking them somewhere they can be taken care of."
Social
history suggests that few of us are able to accept all people in distress as
equally deserving of our assistance. (Recall Emerson's derisory reference to
"alms for sots.")
Some
people seem to be in greater need than others, to be more deserving of
help.
•
Howard University was recently the scene of a "mock tribunal" to "dispel the
myths of the homeless." According to a report in the Washington Post, homeless men and women
told about their experiences in shelters and how they came to be homeless in the
first place.
The
room fell silent as David Hamilton Jones, 47, came forward on crutches. Jones
said he once worked as an electrical engineer for companies that contracted with
the federal government. For him, health problems that kept him from working
caused financial problems, and he found it difficult to find a place to live. He
told the audience he wants to work. "I'm not looking for a handout."
In
modern societies, needs have come to
be defined increasingly as rights.
The moral rhetoric seeks to persuade us that rights are not only political,
but economic and even cultural. A central moral issue of philanthropy, then, is
the way in which we choose, establish, and affirm such rights. One approach is
for philanthropic voices to bring pressure to bear on the public authorities.
Roman Catholic Bishop John R. McGann, of the Diocese of Rockville Centre in New
York, argues in a New York Times
essay that "affordable housing is a basic human right."' The bishop urges an end
to the curtailment of federal funds for the housing of the elderly and the
handicapped, "in light of the grave moral responsibility of government to be
deeply involved in such a critical need of its citizenry."
The
antipoverty activist Mitch Snyder recently concluded a hunger strike that
successfully preserved a public building as a shelter for the homeless in
Washington. The hunger strike is by now a familiar device to win public sympathy
for a cause and also to bring public pressure to bear on officials. Personal
witness of this kind, in its many familiar variations in recent times, is an
essential ingredient of American philanthropic discourse.
• Charles
Hyder, self-identified by his sign "Fasting Physicist," had lost 160 pounds (of
an original 310 at the starting point six months earlier) when he received a
message from Mikhail Gorbachev:
Your
spiritual strength is needed to continue the struggle for preventing a nuclear
catastrophe. For that reason, we urge you to stop your hunger strike.
In
the rhetoric of philanthropy, basic needs come before less urgent ones. Corporal
alms often come before spiritual alms, as Thomas Aquinas said many centuries
ago. The elderly, the handicapped, and small children presumably have a more
pressing claim on philanthropic resources than does the unemployed electrical
engineer. Still, the engineer's need may be more easily met and dealt with,
while those other claims seem endless.
There
is no national assessment of the philanthropic effort as a whole, no "National
Philanthropic Policy" established by Congress. We have only a gross calculation
of how much money is contributed and to which areas of concern it is directed.
We have, of late, estimates of the numbers of volunteers and rough breakdowns
of what they do. National philanthropic priorities change depending on media
coverage, economic conditions, and prevailing ideological winds. How then do we
choose among the myriad of opportunities to do good?
One
quandary of philanthropy is the priority given to needs near at hand when there
is suffering elsewhere. One answer is to balance them: the sponsors of the
United States portion of the Live Aid concert later organized Hands Across
America. The former fundraising effort was aimed at the plight of starving
people in Africa, the latter at the plight of those in poverty in this
country.
As
Guido Calabresi and Philip Bobbitt have pointed out, some public choices have
tragic side effects. Calabresi analyzed, for
example, the method of allocation of kidney dialysis machines. The number of
machines available was determined to be significantly smaller than the
life‑dependent demands on them. A first-order solution is to limit categorically
those who are eligible to have access to the machines (by age group, for
example). A second-order solution is to provide more machines; implicit in this
second-order solution is a further reallocation that directs more medical
resources to those suffering from kidney disease and less to those suffering
from other diseases.
Those
who cannot face the consequences of first-order choices turn to second-order
choices, but discourse about the moral implications of second-order choices
tends to be ignored by those whose entry into the matter is an agonizing first-order emergency. As Calabresi points out, some first-order solutions are
morally intolerable, even though equally tragic second-order consequences may
follow if we avoid them.
Philanthropy
as moral discourse is cacaphonic. Those who believe that philanthropy represents
a sector (as politics and economics are sectors) often indulge the babel of
claims it as if it were guided by a Smithian invisible hand. The philanthropic
marketplace is a triumph of free enterprise, scarcely restrained by the gentle
guidance of the IRS. Anyone captured by a moral cause can organize and seek to
enlist others to serve the same cause.
•
The evangelical preacher and faith healer Oral Roberts, an early exponent of the
electronic church, captured national attention by announcing that he would be
dead within a year if he was not successful in raising $8 million to relieve
financial pressures on the medical center he founded in Oklahoma. According to
the evangelical Protestant monthly Christianity Today:
"I
desperately need you to come into agreement with me concerning my life
being extended beyond March," states a fund raising letter signed by Roberts.
"God said, 'I want you to use the ORU medical school to put My medical presence
on earth. I want you to get this going in one year or I will call you home!'"
Roberts said he received this message last March....
Calvin
College communications professor Quentin Schultze, a student of Christian fund
raising, criticized Roberts's latest appeal, saying it reflects poorly on
Christian organizations. But he added: "You've got to see it in the context of a
man who has a tremendous amount of pressure on him. He's at the top of an
organization that has to bring in millions of dollars each year to keep things
going. . . ."
Critics
say Roberts's approach to raising funds, even if sincere, constitutes a kind of
moral blackmail. . . .
Philanthropy
as moral discourse is most often couched in terms that reflect immediate
personal experience:
•
Sammy Davis Jr., the entertainer and motion picture actor, almost died of liver
disease. According to an interview in Newsday, Davis now believes that because
he has survived his illness he has a responsibility to help others similarly
afflicted. Davis expresses the common experience of a calling to philanthropic
action:
"Maybe
that's one reason I have survived.... I think I was put here to do more than
sing 'Bojangles' and 'Candyman.'"
•
A man named David Tilman was the subject of a recent newspaper profile in the Daily Progress of Charlottesville. The
reporter expressed admiration for Tilman's capacity for Voluntary service to
the Boy Scouts and as a member of the volunteer fire department and rescue squad
while at the same, time holding down a full-time job with the telephone
company. "I just figure the Boy Scout work is more important ... so I go with
that. That's one reason I quit the National Guard (after 22 years of service),
was because of the Boy Scouts."
The
newspaper profile was one of a series on "Piedmont People," a familiar
journalistic device to lend support to philanthropic work as a community
service. Our democratic populism wants us to believe that ordinary people
participate in the moral discourse of philanthropy as much as powerful
organizations or famous personalities.
The
strong will and sense of purpose that Emerson wrote about is transformed by
moral aspiration. As Emerson saw so clearly, the moral sentiment can be foolish
as well as practical, fraudulent as well as self-sacrificing. We must judge them
all. Our answer to the claims of the helpless and the moral arguments of those
who come to their aid is a measure of our civility, our humanity, and our good
sense.
NOTES
The
examples I have chosen reflect my recent parochial reading habits as a former
resident of New York now resident in Virginia, but the kinds of evidence offered here will be found
in the newspapers of every American community.
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