Tainted Altruism
I don’t like The Gap or Starbucks.
This is because they presented themselves with a hippy-dippy, tree-hugging image of niceness that was violently at odds with the sweat-shop-employing, tax-dodging truth we discovered later.
Until this past weekend I didn’t know that this feeling was both widespread and the subject of many a study. The concept of ‘tainted altruism’, whereby people seem to be out for themselves while attempting to appear wholly good and kind on behalf of others, is one that gets right up our noses. As the article says:
This won’t be news to Dan Pallotta, an American fundraiser whose story the Yale researchers tell. In the 90s, Pallotta raised $0.5bn for Aids and other causes with sponsored walks and bike rides. But when it emerged that his salary was pushing $400,000 (£240,000), the outcry led to his downfall. These days, he gives slightly bitter talks, arguing that we’re doing altruism all wrong. “You want to make $50m selling violent videogames to kids? Go for it,” he said. “But you want to make half a million dollars trying to cure kids of malaria? You’re a parasite.”
I think the public annoyance comes from the feeling that the wool has been pulled over our eyes. When Goldman Sachs is evil we get pissed off, but that negative feeling is confined to the crime, whereas a transgression by a supposedly ‘good’ organisation carries the double wrong of the bad deed and the attempt to cover it up (along with the implicit suggestion that we are stupid enough to buy the trick). We feel like we’ve been had, and by someone we trusted; our feelings were toyed with by a charlatan, and that is harder to forgive.
The ‘irrationality’ of that is fascinating, and makes me wonder to what extent we punish people or things for other reasons that are hard to justify:
When credible stars take the money and exposure of a dumb blockbuster we feel somewhat betrayed. Of course, there are good reasons why they decide to accept $5m for a superhero movie instead of the usual few hundred grand for another Coen Bros. flick, but we bought into the career of the actor, whereby we could champion them in pub chats to establish our own good taste, then they punctured the whole thing, making us look like dicks for investing ourselves in liking them in the first place.
And football players. Would you move jobs for more money and the chance to win more awards? Of course. But when your favourite player leaves to do the same there is a sense of betrayal and rejection. They played for ‘us’; we loved them for it. The fact they they were only into their team for as long as it paid them a ‘fair’ wage passed our rational minds by, leaving us hurt and pissed off. They (kind of) lied to us, so fuck them.
And maybe we have a favourite restaurant that expands all over town. Now everyone can appreciate its good food, but to many of us that’s not a benefit. Instead it means their quality is spread more thinly and the great thing we helped build has used our patronage to become worse. Can you believe it? All that money they took from us and what do we get? A worse experience. How is that fair? Up yours, expanding pizza joint.
A loved car might be discontinued, or improved in a way we don’t like.
A band might go ‘commercial’, casting aside what made us love them.
A clothing brand might court exposure from a famous twat, rending it unwearable for any of us who patronised it in the early days.
So there are many facets to the ‘relationship’ we have with a brand or product. Who knows what will offend someone to the point of rejection? Just as deep personal relationships can be ruined by a misplaced opinion, love for companies can be destroyed by the unpredicted effects of an unintended slight.
Massive paranoia is surely the way forward (unless that makes one appear desperate and needy).
What are you talking about is that social norms do not mix with money. If a say: “Hey, friend will you help me with this shit?” – I am expecting help and we are expecting that next time when you need help I will help you too. I am not expecting: “Yes, I will help you but first pay me 100 bucks”. We don’t expect good people to ask for money. When social and market norms collide – we have problems.
We had very interesting moral case a few years back – a wife of a politician had a NGO for poor, neglected kids. She took 1 million bucks from a mafia guy to make a shelter. When she was confronted by the media people expected that she will take: “I didn’t know”-position but actually she said: “I knew who gave the money from the start. If he offers more money I will take them too, and build another shelter”. So could you use bad money to make good?
The trouble comes from applying standards to anything.
Causation is often out of sight but can have very damaging effects.
Take Coke or fast food, both have a large negative impact on health if they are abused. We trust people to deal responsibly with dangers.
Problems arise as most corporations have little interests other than making money. Good deeds may sometimes align, sometimes.
Both Coca Cola and McDonalds heavily lobby the govt not to impose restrictions on sugar and fatty food.
As long as companies main focus is to put money into shareholders hands, the mass populace will be at a disadvantage.
The rich and powerful will continue to exert dominance over us.
Thomas Piketty’s book ‘Capital’ is well worth reading, it is certainly making a big impact. The premise is how capital has risen above growth for over 200 years leading to the vast inequality we see in the western world.
Corporations are the most common manifestation of this. They should be taxed to westchester and back.
Then, maybe, they will not pursue goals to the detriment of the public.
Bill, I haven’t read that book but isn’t globalisation the cause of inequality in the western world and isn’t globalisation lifting millions out of poverty in the rest of the world, thus reducing global inequality. We think things are getting worse, but are they? Maybe just for us.
Also, the vast majority of shares are held by by ordinary people. There isn’t some other.
We are fickle creatures. Investing our ‘love’ into people and brands who, more often than not, care not a jot what we, as individuals, think about them. Corporations are psychopathic by definition, so you are going to be a bit let down there if you choose to love them.
But who would have it any other way? If a player went from United to Liverpool I would feel utterly betrayed. I love the fact that it is emotional and irrational to have loyalty for my local noodle house, but to hate Wagamama. To prefer Coffee Works to Starbucks.
I also hate chuggers, who get commission for pushing charities. It seems wrong. But is it really? Do the ends justify the means?
Frankly, no. As all chuggers are irritating, shallow-as-fuck, shit-wipes.
The lesser-known Soft Cell song.
It doesn’t pay to be brand loyal.