So, What Does It Mean to Do More?

A few weeks ago, I wrote that we must recognize the exceptional privileges of Amherst life and concern ourselves with those who are not as fortunate. That article, on its own, served as an emotional — and thoroughly personal — plea for action. But I left things vague and abstract, preferring that inspired readers chart their own path to helping those in need. 

Now, I want to find a concrete path for us to walk, one studded with solid advice gleaned from experience. And what better way to map that path than to appraise the work of those humanitarians who proclaim to be the most active, the most helpful, or, as they would call themselves, the most effective. Indeed, I am referring to the “effective altruists.”

Effective altruism (EA) is a movement that wants to maximize human (and sometimes animal) welfare. Indeed, what separates the work of an effective altruist from your local animal shelter, which helps just a few fauna, is that the effective altruist tries to impartially calculate and pursue the “best actions”. They are concerned not just with helping, but helping the most people in the most meaningful way, given our finite time and money. 

As such, the effective altruist dismisses some causes as simply not worth pursuing, not good enough. An ambitious infrastructure project may sound spectacular, but it could be too expensive or even politically unfeasible. Funding a charitable campaign to help an ill neighbor is noble, but the altruist would question the value of the funded treatment in comparison to the value of cheap malaria nets or a similarly vital cause. A new antibiotic may promise to save millions of lives, but EA groups would hesitate to endorse it until the evidence is wheeled out. For the effective altruist, these considerations are not about demonizing some charities as amoral; they just think we ought to do better.

As you may have noticed, EA thought is always shadowed by the philosophy of utilitarianism. Importantly, when determining what to do, the utilitarian is only concerned with the consequences of actions. This operating principle is intuitive, but it can lead them to some controversial conclusions. “Go ahead,” the utilitarian would say, “and throw your sister out of the window if her fall would save five people’s lives.” Or, to put it another way, the utilitarian would heap more praise on a chemist who cheated on her dissertation but created medicine for thousands than on a firefighter who happened to save a family. The net aggregate good is the North Star by which everything is judged.

Philosopher Peter Singer, an icon of EA, has long championed this utilitarian mindset. In 1975, building on the work of philosophers Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill, Singer wrote “Animal Liberation”, which I deem to be the seminal work of 20th-century utilitarianism. The book lucidly declares that humanity is committing an astonishingly vile crime: the wholesale slaughter of animals. To Singer, animal hardship outweighs many human affairs simply because animals can suffer, and they suffer a lot at our hands. He argues that to alleviate this suffering, we ought to do much more than feeding them at the zoo. Yes, this means not only going vegan, but also becoming an animal rights activist. In other words, we are obligated to do more, and doing more means doing the most. This is the life mission of the EA movement.

Now, as you can imagine, EA has no shortage of critics. Some issues concern its utilitarian logic. Most people are fine with pursuing the good, but when determining it, they do not consider only the consequences of their actions. They care about telling the truth, about helping friends, about supporting the people in their community, and a million other initiatives that are suboptimal to utilitarians. Moreover, there is something a little outrageous about crunching numbers over human lives, instead of just saving whoever needs to be saved, regardless of whether it’s four or 40 people.

I don’t intend to dismiss or dispel these  — or all the other — concerns with utilitarianism, as the merits of the philosophy have been debated on campus grounds for hundreds of years. The word itself, utilitarianism, carries a kind of pejorative quality, as if it were fit for the philistine and not the philosopher. It is one of those well-worn punching bags that everyone needs to whack to prove their intellectual credentials. 

But I’m not now concerned with demystifying the moral truths of the world from dense ethical argumentation. Utilitarianism is not necessary to understand the value here. What matters to me is the practical work of EA, the results of its conferences and collaborations. For this, we do not need to consider edge cases or counterfactuals. What is needed is a proven, reliable route of action for those who want to better the world but have no clue where to start. 

This is where EA can shine. The website GiveWell is particularly useful. GiveWell is not a charity in the strict sense; rather, it grades charities by the net aggregate good their efforts cause. The “best” causes for GiveWell include malaria prevention, vaccine facilitation, and support for Vitamin A deficiencies. And, for those who want to invest more than money, EA forums and websites run amok with advice on productive, impactful careers and lifestyles.

But how are they so confident in their conclusions? GiveWell is transparent enough to give us some details into their research process. We can also employ common sense; it is not unrealistic to conclude that a malaria clinic will save more human lives than a museum. 

If anything, one could say, EA poses a threat of altruistic monopoly. In theory, if everyone "efficiently" funds these underserved causes, then surely they would become overserved, leaving other charities dry. However, we are obviously not living in that hypothetical world, where malaria treatment is of little concern. If we did, the altruist could simply adjust their moral calculus to adapt to the new situation. 

That being said, there are other legitimate reasons to be concerned about the trustworthiness of Effective Altruism. Most importantly, many critics of EA see the movement as a political network that brings together reclusive tech elites. Take Sam Bankman-Fried, the pro-EA founder of crypto company FTX, who defrauded his customers thoroughly and pervasively. Indeed, we should be concerned with the nebulous EA network. I caution against considering yourself a card-carrying Effective Altruist because of it. Still, when simply considering EA opportunities, the altruist may sink into that web of questionable, unethical practices. 

But this truth doesn’t suddenly invalidate the solid recommendations offered by other EA thinkers, and it certainly doesn’t whisk global sufferings away either. The practical value stands on its own because few other communities offer such a deep reservoir of altruistic resources dependent on as strong research and impact. 

So I encourage you to try out some of those charities or jobs, to rely on the groundswell of empathy and analysis that EA has brought to the table. But before you do, there’s just one more concern we should address.

In 1968, Paulo Freire wrote his magnum opus, “Pedagogy of the Oppressed.” Freire denounced when the oppressed were treated as, in his verbiage, objects rather than subjects. This meant that people should not be mere statues to be sculpted into shape by the altruistic. They had to be equals in the mission to improve the world, and have a say in their own poverty alleviation. 

Accompanying this notion is a far more expansive theory of education, which I will not evaluate today given its depth and controversial character. What I take from “Pedagogy” is the simple reminder to not take up the cloak of a savior in all its glory. Practically speaking, you will never end malaria if you can’t listen to those subject to it. They alone can provide insights that your plans cannot, however rationally devised they are. Moreover, on a deeper level, there’s something intuitively wrong with fashioning yourself as a mighty champion of the downtrodden just because you help those a little less lucky than you. Regardless of its grandiosity, altruism does not make a God out of a human. 

This doesn’t foretell doom for EA’s mission, as we still need clear and direct charity and research. Yet it does complicate the picture, and demand a tough balancing act. There’s no easy answer here, just the reminder to remember the human context of the far-away causes you’re supporting. Perhaps this will simple lesson will guide you away from EA’s darkest impulses

With these concerns in mind, it is certainly possible to be an actually effective altruist. Reader, consider sending a little cash to a GiveWell charity, or pursuing some kind of critical field, such as research on global risks. If you do dive deep into the world of doing more, I applaud you; just don’t lose sight of who you're trying to help.