Judging Generosity

Generosity is a quality that most everyone would agree is a noble practice, but agreement quickly gets derailed when we discuss things like (1) What motivates one to be generous? (2) Of the various ways that one could be benevolent in a specific situation, which demonstrates the real spirit of generosity? (3) Should there be a cost to generosity; should it require some kind of self-sacrifice? (4) What is an appropriate aftermath of giving—for both the giver and the receiver? (5) Can we measure generosity? (6) Is it innate or learned?

I recently took an online course on generosity from the University of Pennsylvania, wherein these and many more questions were raised and examined by professors who have taught the subject for many years. I will attempt to offer a few of their insights on the topic.

First, let's consider the definition of generosity, so we can begin looking at the issue from the same perspective. My dictionary defines it as “the act of giving more of something such as money or time than is strictly necessary or expected.” Some definitions go on to insist that the receiver of the generous act must actually benefit from it. I believe this last point is a crucial addition, because it requires that the giver put some effort into ensuring that their act is really needed and will improve the lot of the receiver—not just make them feel self-righteous. 

We often respond to a solicitation for a donation from organizations that seek funds in ways that are often adept at pulling on our heart strings; making it easy to give, without much of any assurance that our donations will actually provide what is needed. For example, jillions of tee shirts are often donated to groups in Africa, when people there have other crucial needs and already have too many tee shirts.

So, what constitutes a generous act? The above dictionary definition suggests generosity as the giving of time or money. However, are there not other forms of generosity? Can giving one's attention be an act of generosity? Can a simple smile be an example of generosity?

Another important factor is one's intention or motivation, when acting generously. Why does one's motivation matter? If your sincere intention was to do good, does it matter if its impact fell short of helping the receiver? And to whom does it matter... the giver or the receiver? When we give, how much of our motivation is due to our wanting to feel better about ourself? We often get a “warm glow” from being generous. How important is that to us? Does the size of my gift (whether measured in money or time) matter, or is the spirit of giving (or the sacrifice to me) the key? The Bible reports that Jesus valued a penny's donation from a poor widow far more than large donations from rich people.

And then there's the manner in which one gives. Do I expect or want something in return... if even only some form of appreciation or a thank you? Do I want others to know that I am giving? Do I wish my name to be listed as a donor someplace, or to get a free tote bag for my donation? Do I expect or want a tax incentive for my donations? Do I require an appeal to prompt me to donate, or am I self-motivated to do so? Should I try to control the use of my gift—such as give food to a homeless person, rather than money?

One of the interesting findings of the researchers who presented this course was that religious people give significantly more time and money than nonreligious people. Moreover, religious people who also regularly attend services are the most generous. It was suggested that there are several reasons why this is so: (1) generosity is a core tenet of all religions, (2) one is often encouraged by religious leaders to give, (3) one's religious peers also encourage, as well as model generosity, and (4) the belief that what we have in this world is given to us by God and is not ours, so be generous with it.

The last point above can be expanded upon, as the thought that, if we are among the more fortunate people, don’t we have a duty to use our skills and advantages to help others less fortunate? The point is that we don't really own our talents and strengths; they are not entirely of our making—they are a gift to us. Instead, we are shepherding them, and we are obliged to pass the gift on.

I find it interesting that a significant factor in religious people's generosity is the frequent reminders they get from their peers and leaders. I wonder if this is why I get so many repeated pleas in the mail for donations—indicating that those organizations know that if they are persistent in their requests (or offer a cute tote bag or tax deduction), they are more likely to get a response? To what degree do we need the push, or can we be self-motivated? Again, is generosity innate or learned?

From Egalitarianism to Inequality: the Rise of Religion—Part 2 of Big History

Last time I described how humans transitioned from egalitarian hunter-gatherer bands to more complex settled villages in which ownership of property brought a division of labor and a fear of invaders who might confiscate the fruits of that labor. Concurrent with these changes, communities became hierarchical for the first time.

Religion also came into being about that time, largely because it found a home in the new cultures. Specifically, religion satisfied three new needs of society: (1) hierarchy, (2) a sense of community, through solidarity and sacrifice, and (3) a sense of superiority that bolstered the courage of its adherents.

First, consider hierarchical needs. While an egalitarian perspective is mostly horizontal—all people are pretty much on an equal level—religious thought is vertical, from above to below. The gods are superior to us (above us), so we'd best submit to them and follow their orders. Accordingly, human societies became increasingly hierarchical—as leaders assumed authority and power. In fact, those leaders were often priests who claimed to be designated by the gods to rule. Especially when the gods were not available, our ancestors were expected to obey the gods' appointed representatives.

The second need religion met was a sense of community. Religion unites its followers through the worship of a common god (or shared pantheon). This was crucial, because it was necessary to create bonds beyond the kinship of the earlier small, hunter-gatherer bands. Religion literally creates an artificial, expanded family. Unity is further strengthened, as followers connect through a sense of “them” and “us.” We follow the true god(s); they follow lesser god(s).

The third need that religion brought to our settled ancestors was a sense of superiority. If our god(s) is indeed greater and stronger, we become invincible. We therefore will fight harder and longer, and prevail in conflicts that either protect our property or seize others'. Our god is on our side.

The military is a good example of hierarchy that the newly-settled life brought. Standing armies were soon required to protect property. Furthermore, there is no egalitarianism in the military; there is no democracy. Obedience to the vertical chain of command above you is absolutely necessary.

Next time: the rise of writing, states, and state religion…

Science, Philosophy, and Religion

I have blogged a few times about the differences between science and philosophy. I was educated and trained as a scientist, and have found it a struggle to comprehend the philosopher's way of thinking. Since retiring to the country to follow a simpler life, I no longer professionally practice science, so it's given me an opportunity to turn to philosophy to work at trying to grasp some of its concepts. It ain't been easy! It's like moving to another country as an adult—after your inherent language-learning skills have drastically declined from when you were two years old—and struggling with a very different language in a very different culture. But thanks to several online courses in philosophy, I'm beginning to be a bit conversant with it.

Just as a little background (and to remind myself of the contrast), here are the dictionary definitions of the two disciplines:

• Science: “the intellectual and practical activity encompassing the systematic study of the structure and behavior of the natural world, through observation and experiment” Root meaning: “to know.”
• Philosophy: “the study of the fundamental nature of knowledge, reality, and existence.” Root meaning: “love of wisdom.”

So science is an activity, while philosophy is a study. Science is an objective examination of the natural world (which includes humans), while philosophy is a subjective examination of what we humans know or can come to know. While the ancient thinkers believed that we can arrive at truth and knowledge through sheer reasoning, science conducts experiments to develop knowledge. The difference is sort of like the study of the properties of the external world (science) versus the study of the internal world or of our mind's ability to grasp the external world (philosophy).

While today's science is partitioned into many disciplines, philosophy has also grown to be categorized into several branches. One of my online courses defined four subdisciplines in philosophy:

1. Metaphysics—What is there? What's it like?
2. Epistemology—What can we know? How do we know?
3. Value theory—What's good/bad? How can we be good/bad?
4. Logic—Which links it all together. (I quickly become swamped when reading logic. It's yet beyond me.)

When we delve into these four branches, we find ourselves facing moral, aesthetic, and value questions. We get into questions of what we should do, and what is right or wrong.

Science, on the other hand, is amoral (not immoral, as some people would say)—it is by and large unconcerned with the rightness or wrongness of what it studies. Thus, for example, many scientists engaged in the development of the atomic bomb in World War II, with little moral examination. That is not to say that scientists ignored the moral questions. For example, even though he had a hand in initiating the US's atomic bomb program, Einstein later came to regret his role. The point is that science does not include moral evaluations as part of its activities. That's philosophy's business.

I find it interesting how differently many religions approach and interpret these scientific and philosophical questions about the nature of the world and the nature of human knowledge. Religions have a very different perspective. Yes, humans can reason, religions say, but truth comes from the gods, or the one God. Thus, truth (as well as morality and values) is found in scripture or possibly through mystical insight, but not through human reasoning.

This religious perspective is often taken to an extreme by religious fundamentalists, who contend that everything known or worth knowing can be found in scripture. This approach does not really seek understanding through the gradual acquisition of knowledge, but by locating finality (fixed and complete answers) in scripture. This difference is a source of most of the conflict between religion and the disciplines of science and philosophy. This conflict is largely absent, however, with nonfundamentalist religious people—people who may revere scripture, but do not contend that it is the sole repository of knowledge and wisdom.

With every online course I take, my appreciation for both science and philosophy grows. I also gain better understanding of the basis of conflict between how these two cognitive ways of looking at reality clash with religious fundamentalism—and realize that there need not be conflict with all religious belief.

Churlish Churchgoing Children?

Religion has long been humanity's principle source of moral guidance... at least that's what most people have maintained. The conviction is that we humans easily stray from the moral path, or never find it in the first place, without following the precepts of some religious teachings. And indeed, many people have derived comfort and purpose in life from their religions.

That's why the results of a study published in November 2015 in the journal Current Biology are very surprising. The paper, coauthored by seven researchers form universities around the world, is titled “The Negative Association between Religiousness and Children's Altruism Across the World.” What this broad study discovered, after the researchers evaluated some 1200 kids (ages 5-12) from six countries, is that those kids who were religious were less likely to be concerned about the welfare of others than were nonreligious children. In other words, the prosocial behavior of religious kids was consistently found to be less than for kids raised in a secular household. That's remarkable!

The study evaluated kids who fell into three main religious categories: Muslim, Christian, and nonreligious. Besides having fewer altruistic feelings, the religious kids also were more punitive minded and more judgmental than kids raised in secular households—especially the older kids (those near 12). Another surprising result is that the religious parents who were interviewed during this study felt that their children were more empathetic than nonreligious kids—quite opposite to the study's findings.

These results are indeed surprising. Some religious people will no doubt claim the study is invalid. Atheists will, in contrast, site the results as verifying their current beliefs. Such is the behavior of a polarized world. This one study's findings are unlikely to change people's minds.

Several of the questions raised by this study, however, are important to ponder, I think. Is religion vital for moral development, as many religious people have long believed? Can people become ethical when they are raised outside a religious tradition? How can we explain the results of this study? Why is it that nonreligious kids were found to be more prosocial? Does religion really have a corner on morality? Do these results suggest further studies that may shed more light on the issue? (Such controversial results always do.)

The authors did not attempt to interpret their findings—that would go beyond the scientific bounds of their work. Their intent was not to explain why these findings occurred. (We might look to philosophy for that.) Despite the fact that some people would take issue with their results, the study followed rigorous scientific protocol and they did interview a wide spectrum of children. More insights may come in the future. The findings certainly go against the grain of society's long-held beliefs. I think it is simply useful to hear about these unexpected and contrary results and to open our minds to the possibilities they may imply.