In “Famine, Affluence, and Morality,” a 1972 journal article published in Philosophy and Public Affairs, utilitarian philosopher Peter Singer argues that individuals who possess the means to prevent suffering and/or save lives, assuming no great cost, have a moral duty to do so. In other words, the traditional view that sees such acts as charity (i.e., not morally obligatory) is wrong. To illustrate the point, he asks readers to imagine walking through a natural environment when in a pond or a lake a drowning a child appears. Should they not stop and intervene, the child would die. Most would intuit that it’s morally imperative to save that child's life, even if, for example, doing so would ruin their expensive clothes; the clothes are of relatively little moral significance compared to the life that they could save. Hardly a soul would call such an act charity, laudable but unnecessary. Singer claims citizens of wealthy countries are in a similar position, capable of saving others without incurring great costs.
But most people don’t see it this way. In Singer’s view, we have placed an undue border between charity and duty largely because of our faulty empathy; we tend to help those who look more like us or who are in closer proximity than those who aren’t either. We’re more willing to help family than a stranger, a compatriot who shares our skin tone and language than a foreigner who shares neither. This intuition is likely an evolutionary by-product of being social creatures.
For Singer, the distinction is arbitrary and wrong. Suffering is suffering. Proximity alone cannot be of moral significance; if a child is drowning somewhere else, are they less worth saving? Singer, therefore, asks for a higher moral standard. We should give more. We should consider it duty and not charity. There is no excuse for inaction.
Charity and Duty
There are two ideas in the article that really struck me, the first very emotionally. It wasn’t made emotionally concrete for me until Singer quotes the theologian Thomas Aquinas. Try to contextualize the quote in your own life to feel its full effect: "The bread which you withhold belongs to the hungry; the clothing you shut away, to the naked; and the money you bury in the earth is the redemption and freedom of the penniless." It almost brings me to tears. It makes me think about how many people go about in their quiet suffering, as we would see it, when we, their brothers and sisters, capable of helping, go about our own in relative comfort. I’m not particularly religious, and religion has obviously gotten things wrong. Nevertheless, I sometimes find, when I’m open to it, philosophy and religion dovetail serendipitously, as if philosophy is catching up with old cultural wisdom - in this case, the moral obligation to give. Believing that it is charitable but not morally obligatory to give to those who are in desperate need, I think, creates a wall of apathy between us, a way of shirking moral obligation.
To be fair, there are many reasons why people put up a wall between charity and duty. If you were to come across a drowning child, you would be faced with the virtual certainty of their death should you not intervene. Look away, perhaps - but you cannot run away from that reality. In quotidian experience, however, analogous circumstances are rarely so clear in their consequences or in their appropriate requisite aid. Real life is blurry. We’re all myopic. While not saving a drowning child, rightly, would engender severe criticism, not giving your loose change to the unhoused individual you cross paths with in the street would not attract the same censure. It’s less clear if the loose change is the appropriate course of action. I advocate it, generally. But perhaps, as I’ve often heard, “they’ll just go buy drugs with it.” Or, maybe someone will steal it from them. Or maybe you don’t need to because someone else will give and all you have is loose change. There are, however, clearer consequences to not giving to starving children, say, in an impoverished country. Nevertheless, even when we know that children will die as a result of people not giving, rarely are the facts so crystal clear as a drowning child before you. It’s not just bad empathy or social norms. Maybe someone else will give. Maybe the charity is corrupt. Maybe your amount will make no real difference.
None of my arguments here are meant as an excuse for those who do not give. I’m with Singer. Again, there’s no excuse for inaction. And, to be clear, Singer acknowledges other, practical concerns, such as identifying trustworthy charitable organizations, conflicting personal obligations, and opportunity costs. But it is rational for humans to act differently when there is less certainty, both in terms of the consequences of one’s actions and how to best help. With the drowning child, the best course of action is plain.
Clarity matters. The lack of it allows us to comfort ourselves, to mask our guilt in the stochastic nature of fate and fortune. In other circumstances, where the consequence of inaction is more evident, if a house were on fire or if the starving child were right in front of you, say, people are more likely to act altruistically. Many Americans are not particularly educated on what happens overseas. Therefore, it is imperative for charities to prioritize educating the public. The onus is not solely on the charity, however. It is incumbent upon all of us to educate ourselves on the world and its crises. Otherwise, we’re shirking responsibility.
Singer’s words helped me feel, as well as see, that we are all wrong who understand helping the unhoused, or those in desperate need, as a nice but needless act.
Famine and Family Planning
The other paradigm-shifting idea in the article is equally actionable. As stated, Singer anticipates a few objections to his argument. The most salient one, to me, is that efforts by individuals of wealthier countries to alleviate famine and/or poverty in developing countries are not addressing the key cause; they are treating the symptom but not the illness. What causes famine or poverty? There are many causes, to be sure, such as armed conflicts, natural disasters, and climate change - all deserving of our attention and action to prevent or better prepare for. According to the Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations, famine is worst in Sub-Saharan Africa. It is also where population growth is at its current global zenith. The objection argues that “until there is effective [family planning], relieving famine merely postpones starvation.” Singer agrees; the earth “cannot support indefinitely a population rising at the present rate.” Again, Singer warns against excusing away action. Help no matter your cause.
The logic of the objection is appealing. To be clear, though, I don't think it’s wrong to help alleviate current famine. In “Carbon Capture,” a 2015 New Yorker article, the American novelist Jonathan Franzen, argues that long-term concerns over climate change can make our contemporary concerns for the creatures that inhabit our world seem unimportant. It struck the author as disheartening that some climate activists have been too comfortable in disregarding the well-being of extant species because “mitigating climate change trumps all other environmental concerns.” He references Saint Francis of Assisi as “an example of loving what’s concrete and vulnerable and right in front of us.”
We have a direct influence over what’s present and can do real good. That should not be forgotten. I can no longer look at birds and not think of Francesco. The point is, we can do both: help to alleviate current famine and poverty and have a big picture view of the problem. Personally, I would focus my efforts on the long-term suffering of peoples because I think I can do more good. And I don't think there's anything heartless about that, though there are similar arguments against effective altruism, which, generally, I also support. It's hard to see much of a distinction between what I'm arguing here and effective altruism, which tends to take a more long-term, utilitarian view on charitable giving. We need to apply science and reason to our compassion and empathy. Helping those close to us or who look like us might intrinsically feel more good. There is an immediate good feeling. Helping those further away (in time or space), though, might do more good.
You have to ask yourself, what is the right thing to do for you? And, again, it is not an either/or. But it is, in my opinion, a question of where to focus (not to limit) one's efforts. And the beautiful thing about diversity is that we all have different interests and causes. Thus, we can spread the love. And that is what Singer sings. Kill suffering with love. Whatever your cause, however you can, do good.