Fortune's Burden
Why the case for altruism is stronger for the more fortunate
Alice is a genius. Bob is not. Like many Americans, both Alice and Bob love the NFL. Each enjoys nothing more than watching a good football game.
Plausibly, the personal benefit Alice derives from watching an hour of football is no greater than Bob’s. Certainly, it is not much greater.
But Alice’s ability to improve the lives of others is much greater. Because Alice is a genius, she’s a world-leading cardiologist. Because Bob is not, he’s an accountant for a movie theater chain. And a world-leading cardiologist can, let’s suppose, do much more good in an hour than a movie theater accountant.
The ratio of one’s potential hourly societal benefit (SB) to one’s potential hourly personal benefit (PB) — SB/PB — roughly captures the amount of good to society one must forgo to increase one’s own good by one unit.1 The greater one’s SB, the higher the ratio.2 Hence, the more able one is to help others, the more one needs to privilege one’s welfare over the welfare of others — i.e., the more one needs to be selfish — to justify spending time on one’s own good.3
Alice is incredibly fortunate to be born a genius. But this fortune is a moral burden. Because her ratio is much greater than Bob’s — for Alice’s and Bob’s PBs are similar but Alice’s SB is much greater than Bob’s — she has more reason to be altruistic than Bob. Hence, if Alice is no more selfish than Bob, then she ought to spend a much larger portion of her life helping others rather than, say, watching football.
To whom much is given, much is required.
This is a rough measure because time spent on one’s own welfare may increase one’s ability to improve the welfare of others. For example, if one is tired, napping may be pleasant while also putting one in a better position to help others.
It is also, of course, true that the lower one’s PB, the greater the ratio. However, there is much more population variation in individuals’ SBs than PBs. Isaac Newton, for example, had an SB orders of magnitude greater than average. It is hard to think of someone whose PB is orders of magnitude greater than average. There just (seemingly) aren’t any utility monsters walking around. So, the easiest way for one’s SB/PB ratio to be extraordinarily high — and thus for the altruistic demands on one to be very high — is for one’s SB to be extraordinarily high, not for one’s PB to be extraordinarily low.
This is also true of non-temporal resources. Suppose one could spend $10,000 to increase one’s welfare by 10 units. Now, consider two scenarios: (i) one’s best option to help others could increase their total welfare by 8 units for $10,000, and (ii) one’s best option to help others could increase their total welfare by 80 units for $10,000. In (i), no selfishness is required to justify spending the $10,000 on oneself. In (ii), however, one must value one’s welfare eight times more than the welfare of others to justify spending the $10,000 on oneself.
This reminded me of something I once read—that attention is a moral offering.
Alice’s time may hold a more measurable impact. But I wonder if we too quickly reduce worth to utility.
If we forget that even a genius is still just a person—tired sometimes, tender sometimes—longing to just feel… human. To whom much is given, yes. But also: to whom much is demanded and sometimes rest is what keeps them whole enough to keep giving.
Maybe the deeper ethic isn’t: Do more.
Maybe it’s: Don’t disappear inside your usefulness.