Often It’s Not the Giving That’s Tough, It’s the Deciding

In Maine, where Rushworth Kidder lives, residents understand that if they are driving along in a snowstorm and see someone who has slid off the road, they stop and help.

It is further understood, says Kidder, founder and president of the Institute for Global Ethics, that the person pulled from the ditch owes nothing. “The obligation is that he needs to pull the next person out of the ditch. He needs to pass it on, and in that regard, we’ve all been pulled out of the ditch in many ways.”

Even simple forms of giving, however, can become complicated. What if the passing driver is running late to the airport for an important trip and would miss a flight by stopping? What if the person in need seems suspicious or is an unskilled driver who might cause tragedy further down the road?

For many, the ethics of giving--of how we share time and assets--has come into sharper focus since Sept. 11. In an unprecedented response, more than $1 billion was donated to help victims of the attacks. That call was answered, but there are many more. In his State of the Union address Tuesday night, President Bush urged Americans to commit at least two years--4,000 hours in their lifetimes--to the service of neighbors and nation.

The choice of whom to help is vast. In addition to the person on the street asking for a dollar, there are 1.23 million charities, social welfare organizations and religious congregations seeking support. Imagine 1.23 million cars in the ditch. Which ones do you pull out?

The ones with frightened children in it?

The ones with old people?

The ones with no heat?

What are our ethics when it comes to giving? To whom should we give? And how much and when?

Ethics in giving is not only a question of right versus wrong, Kidder says, but principally a question of right versus right. “The most important ethical decision-making methodology, it seems to me, is the one that allows you to think carefully about the needs of competing right things.”

The discussion of the ethics of giving, says Paul Shervish, sociology professor and director of the Social Welfare Research Institute at Boston College, should begin with two questions: What is most needed? Is it being provided?

“A major ethical issue is to separate out and to pursue what is needed rather than what is simply good or generous,” he says. It is a process of discernment, Shervish says, that begins with learning to receive.

“It’s a way that we deal with things when we truly understand being given to is a blessing,” he says. “It’s one of the deepest feelings we have, and when we can give to others, it’s that circle of the deepest connection that you can have with someone.”

Giving, of course, is not always purely altruistic and can be motivated by the desire to earn a tax break, further a political agenda or raise one’s social standing. There are many motives, many ways to give, many causes, many needs.

Those who gave to victims of the Sept. 11 attacks are watching to make sure the money is used appropriately, and those in charge of the funds must now determine how the money should be distributed, effectively and ethically.

Charity, even in its purest form, it’s not a simple process.

“If you think making money raises ethical questions,” says Kidder, “you should try giving it away.”

Australian philosopher Peter Singer, a professor at Princeton University’s Center for Human Values, says that in terms of global need, the amount given to victims of the Sept. 11 attacks seems disproportionate.

“In a way, it’s another way of showing that Americans really care for Americans, but they don’t really think about the needs of people elsewhere in the world who equally, through no fault of their own, are in much greater need,” he says.

Singer, who has advocated for animal rights and in some cases euthanasia, also suggests that money spent on nonessential items be instead given to help meet the essential needs of others.

The United Nations estimates that 24,000 people around the world die each day from hunger-related causes. Knowing that, how much, ethically, should we keep for ourselves?

Singer says the United States gives a smaller percentage of its gross national product in foreign aid than any other of the developed countries.

The survivors of the approximately 3,000 victims of the Sept. 11 attacks will receive about 10% of what is given to 1.2 billion people who are arguably in as great or greater need, Singer says.

If there is a soft spot, an area of vulnerability, for many who find meaning in giving, it is in knowing they could give more. And establishing that line between giving and keeping marks a difficult balance--no matter how much one has to divide.

Singer, married and father to three grown children, says he donates 20% of his household income to hunger relief agencies. “I could still give more,” he says, “I can’t give you a sound ethical reason why I don’t. I think, for me, having been through the ethics, I then get to a point where what I think I ought to be doing comes into conflict with what I want to do in terms of my own selfish interests, and I’m not saintly enough to completely disregard that.”

To help guide them through the process of giving, many people make the decision to give suggested percentages of their income to religious groups, the United Way or other nonprofit organizations.

Richard and Lezlie Atlas give through their Atlas Family Foundation. Richard has an important talent in the world of philanthropy: He’s good at making money. An investment banker, he retired seven years ago from Goldman Sachs at age 51. He and Lezlie, who volunteers two days a week as a child development specialist, now focus their time on family and their foundation.

To make money, he says, requires focus, to protect money requires diversification. In an attempt to maximize the effectiveness of their giving, the Atlases maintain a narrow focus, donating to 15 agencies in Los Angeles County that serve mental health needs of infants, toddlers and their families in underserved areas.

At times, Richard Atlas says, he has been tempted to become more involved in providing a hands-on service like the ones he helps fund, but he recognizes that in order to help people more effectively, he must play a different role in the community. “It’s better for me to be out there investing money and earning good returns so I can take those returns and distribute the money to agencies, so they can more effectively serve their communities.”

“I have more than enough to live the way I want,” Atlas says. “Sometimes I think about selling everything we have and moving into one of the communities I fund, but then I say, ‘It’s OK for me to do this and do that. I don’t have to go all the way. I can have balance.’”

Not everyone who wants to give has money.

Maricruz Diego, who is unemployed, donates her time. Since the company she worked for moved a year ago, she has spent five days a week as a volunteer at the Los Angeles Regional Food Bank.

Her husband works at a warehouse, so they and their three children are able to get by, she says. Some days she brings her daughter to the food bank with her, because she wants her children to learn that giving is important.

For her efforts, Diego is given one box of food per week. At church on Sundays, she has nothing to put in the collection plate, so, instead, she gives a portion of what she receives from the food bank. The church, in turn, gives the donated food to others in need.

It’s sometimes difficult to decide how much to give, how much to keep. Even though her family has little, she gives as much as she can.

A study titled “Giving and Volunteering in the United States 2001,” conducted by Independent Sector, a coalition of nonprofits, foundations and corporations addressing issues of philanthropy, reports that in 2000, 89% of American households donated to charity and 44% of adults volunteered.

Also in 2000, it is estimated, $203.45 billion was contributed to nonprofits, according to the American Assn. of Fundraising Counsel. That marks a 6.6% increase over 1999. Contributions represented 2% of the nation’s Gross Domestic Product. The primary recipients were religion groups (36.5%), education (13.8%), health (9.3%), human services (8.8%), arts and culture (5.7%).

Joe Lumarda, executive vice president and acting director of the California Community Fund, says attitudes toward giving are fluid and sometimes change from one generation to the next.

Those who have lived through the Depression and New Deal, who lived through World War II, who went to work for a company and stayed until retirement, tend to trust large institutions, the United Ways, Lumarda says. Younger generations tend to give to smaller, community-based organizations, “where they can see, feel and touch the impact that their dollars have on the lives of the individuals.”

For some, it is important that their giving be as low-profile and as direct as possible. Among them is a gas station owner in Highland who has given to friends in need, strangers on street corners, people with big dreams but little money. Last December, he showed up at a shelter and took residents Christmas shopping, allowing each to spend $150 on gifts for themselves and their children.

He says he is not a particularly wealthy man. He owns a half-dozen gas stations, affording him a nice home, nice car, but few other excesses. His name, he says, is not important.

What is important is giving, he says. He gave money once to a family in his church to save its home from foreclosure. When a musical group had no money to get started, he cut a check for $5,000. While on business trips, he grabs fruit from the breakfast buffet in case he sees someone on the street who is hungry.

“When I give a homeless person money, and he goes and buys beer, that’s not my problem,” he says. “When I contribute money to my church, if the pastor takes that money and goes gambling or embezzles it, that’s not my problem. God can deal with that. If I have the ability to help somebody else, no matter how minuscule the help may be, then that’s what I think I should do.”

He gives to his church, although, he says, he is not a great fan of organized religion. He does not give to organized charities, he says, because he receives more reward by walking up to a person on the street and offering him or her a piece of fruit, a sandwich or money.

Harry Stovall, 82, prefers to give to organizations--his favorite being the L.A. Mission. From time to time, he stops in and writes out a check, the last one for $800.

He worked for 20 years as a police officer, going to law school at night and eventually becoming an insurance lawyer for the state. He and his wife, Olga, married 64 years, are retired now and focus on giving back. Their grandchildren sometimes volunteer at the mission helping to serve food.

“It makes me feel that at least I’m trying to do something about the things we all complain about,” he says. “I can’t do it all by myself, but if enough people did it, maybe we could eliminate some of the problems we have.”

Stovall says people sometimes have taken advantage of his generosity, and he always feels foolish when that happens. It has taken place on the streets, and it has taken place at church, where, he says, money he gave was not used as he had intended.

It doesn’t stop him from giving, he says, but he no longer goes to church. Instead, he goes downtown to the mission, located in an area where he walked the beat as a police officer when he was a young man. It is where, he says, his money and faith are most needed.

The philosopher, the philanthropist, the gas station owner, the retired lawyer and millions of others have sought their own ways of giving, have sorted out the ethical dilemmas.

But they are motivated by the same underlying principles.

“There is great need,” says Diego, the woman who donates food she has earned by volunteering. “It gives me great satisfaction that I can give.”

She and the others understand how people all over the world are suffering, sitting in the ditch, hoping that someone will come along to help them get back on the road.