GIVING

As I think about giving, images are reaching us right now from Nepal and Tibet. People are losing their homes, their livelihoods, everything they own, within just a few minutes. A massive flood of ice, water, rock and mud has swept away villages and infrastructure.

The people living there did not cause this disaster. And yet they are bearing the consequences of a changing world. Events like these make me reflect more deeply than ever.

What can I do from my privileged position? Isn’t privilege also a responsibility to act? To become active in some way, or at least to donate?

What difference can a donation make?

In conversations with friends, I keep noticing how much our own sense of helplessness can paralyze us.

“With so much suffering in the world – what difference can my small donation possibly make?”

I know this thought well. For a long time, I hardly thought about how effective donations can actually be. Recently, I read The Life You Can Save by Peter Singer. The book made me question my previous attitude toward giving.

What particularly stayed with me were not only his ethical ideas, but also figures and findings from organizations such as GiveWell. They investigate which aid programs actually work particularly effectively and where an additional euro can have the greatest possible impact.

Current estimates show that with particularly cost-effective programs, around €5,000 can statistically be associated with saving one human life. So what if my donation really can make more of a difference than I think?

Of course, calculations like these are no guarantee. They are based on probabilities and estimates. But they changed the way I look at giving. “My donation is just a drop in the ocean” suddenly becomes: “Maybe it doesn’t take that much to make an incredibly valuable difference.”

And perhaps I don’t have to wait for everyone else to start. Or for governments to act. I can simply start saving lives myself. Today.

What We Have Learned About Giving

I myself learned very little about giving in childhood. Learn something, work, be independent and build something for yourself. That is what I was taught. Money was something you earned, saved and secured. We hardly ever talked about the possibility that one day you might have enough of it and could give some of it to others.

Frugality was considered a virtue in my family. “Save in good times, and you’ll have something in times of need” – that is how I was raised. Security definitely came before generosity. Helping was taught to me more as something personal than something financial. Being there for family, supporting neighbors and friends, helping older people cross the street.

And I’m probably not alone in this. Achievement and independence were central values for many people of my generation. We learned to stand on our own two feet. To take responsibility for our own lives. We learned less about taking responsibility for one another.

And in our society, “What else can I achieve?” is still given a lot of importance. “What can I give?” much less.

Singer describes an educational idea that I like and that perhaps we could also internalize as adults:
One piggy bank for SPENDING – things I want or need now.
A second for SAVING – money for bigger wishes or security for the future.
A third for GIVING – money consciously set aside for other people or good causes.

It’s not so much about how much, but simply about making giving just as natural a part of life as saving and spending. Personally, I wish I had learned more about the culture of giving earlier.

What Is Enough?

I also find it fascinating how little we think about when we actually have enough. Many adults now have materially more than their parents ever had, yet internally they still think: “It could become scarce one day.”

Perhaps that is also why relatively few people who have more than average are willing to give. In my opinion, generosity rarely comes from having a lot, but rather from the feeling: “I have enough.”

But who in our society ever really feels that they have enough? In our consumer world, there is no such thing as enough. The economy wants more and more and more. It constantly asks: “What else could I afford?”

And yet the question of “enough” could be so helpful for our own sense of contentment. It could shift our focus more toward what we already have instead of everything we still think we need.

And how quickly we move past our own sense of “enough” in everyday life is illustrated by an example Singer uses in relation to our consumer behavior. We are sitting in a café. The waiter comes by and asks: “Would you like another drink?” Even if we are neither thirsty nor in the mood for one, we often automatically say yes and order another.

How much money do we spend like this every month without even asking ourselves: Do I really still need this?

How Much of It Is Actually Our Own Achievement?

“I worked hard for my money. It belongs to me.” Another argument from The Life You Can Save that I have heard many times.

Of course, we often work very hard. But how much of what we have is actually and exclusively the result of our own efforts? And how much is also luck or coincidence?
Where we were born.
Into which family.
At what point in history.
What kind of education we were able to receive.
What opportunities were available to us.

And then Singer asks another uncomfortable question: Do we really believe that people in extremely poor countries work less hard than we do? Or can someone work just as hard and still remain poor if their starting conditions are completely different?

Simply being born in Europe is an incredible stroke of luck for me. And just like any privilege, this one also carries a certain responsibility for me – a responsibility toward people who did not have this privilege.

Not as guilt. But as an opportunity.

Generosity in Our Society

I often observe successful people around me who allow themselves to enjoy a great deal and are also happy to show it. I know very few people who talk openly about their generosity.

So having is okay. But giving is embarrassing?

I keep asking myself: Why is ownership an accepted status symbol in our society? Generosity, on the other hand, is quickly interpreted as self-promotion. People talk about cars, houses and holidays. They are heard as information about someone’s standard of living. You can be happy for them, perhaps even a little envious – and that’s about it. But when someone says, “I have enough. That’s why I donate part of my money,” it can quickly lead to awkward faces.

Consumption can be displayed. Generosity, preferably not. Showing wealth is apparently linked to success and is therefore accepted. Showing generosity carries too much of a moral charge.

What a shame. Because according to Singer, there is plenty of research showing that giving can also inspire others. When people hear that others in their social environment donate, the likelihood that they will do the same increases significantly.

Whom Do We Give To – And Why?

Singer presents a very memorable thought experiment:

Imagine a child is drowning in a shallow pond right in front of you. You could save them. Of course, your new shoes and expensive phone would be ruined in the process. Would you still save the child?

Of course.

And what changes if the child is not drowning in front of you, but thousands of kilometers away?

Actually, nothing.

The child is still a human being. Their life is just as valuable. And the possibility of helping does not disappear simply because I cannot see them.

I felt caught out. So far, I too have mainly donated where I had a personal connection. I have contacts with people in the Philippines and in Togo. Donating there felt right, meaningful and safe to me.

But why does giving feel easier when we know a face, have heard a story or know exactly where our money is going? Perhaps because proximity creates trust. But perhaps also because it gives us the feeling that we are keeping control.

But why should a personal contact know better how to use help effectively than people who have spent years focusing precisely on that?

Maybe I don’t have to control everything myself. Maybe I just have to learn whom I can trust.

Giving Also Means Letting Go

Donating is my starting point today. But of course, giving means much more than donating money. We can give time. Attention. Knowledge. Compassion. Courage. An idea. Our abilities. An open ear.

And whatever we give – without trust, it probably doesn’t work.

Especially when donating, I used to want to know exactly whom I was giving to and what would happen to my money. If I’m honest, I also secretly wanted regular reports telling me about the results. But isn’t giving most genuine when it is tied to no expectation at all?

Recently, I came across GiveDirectly. The organization gives money to people living in extreme poverty – without telling them what they have to use it for.

No “We know better what you need.” The people themselves decide.

Studies on unconditional cash transfers show that people use the money for things such as food, housing, health, education or their economic future. I like that idea.

Who am I, really, to think that I know better what another person needs most urgently right now?

Perhaps giving sometimes means exactly that: Trusting another person to know.
Giving them freedom.
Not always being suspicious.
Not wanting to control everything.
And perhaps believing in the good in people a little more often.

Not blindly or naively. But with trust.

Perhaps this attitude can also change the way we look at people who ask us for money on the street. Instead of immediately thinking, “Who knows what they’ll do with it?” or “There must be an organization behind this,” we could simply pause for a moment.

Offer a smile. Attention. Compassion. Perhaps a few euros. Not because we know what will come of it. But because we trust that it might create something good.

What Do I Have to Give?

We often underestimate the impact our actions can have because we cannot see the connection between our small lives and the larger world.

A small action can create a big wave that we may never even notice. A conversation can encourage someone. An idea can set something in motion. A donation can save a life. A person who is given an opportunity may later give an opportunity to someone else.

We often don’t know how far our impact reaches. Maybe we don’t need to know. Maybe it is enough to keep asking ourselves: What do I have to give? And what do I want to make possible with it?

Because giving doesn’t only have an impact outwardly. It also has an impact within us. And sometimes, it makes the person giving surprisingly happy.

Sharing something. Letting go. Making something possible for another person. Not as something in return. But simply because giving can make us happy.

LUMA – It begins in you.

Mini Exercise
What can I give today without expecting anything in return?
Time? Attention? An honest compliment? An open ear? Help? A smile?

Reflection Question
What would I give if I didn’t have to control what comes of it?