Why We Help Others

 Here we are again, dissecting an issue that's the core of most religions as we know them.

Why do we help others? Should we? Do we have to? 

What happens if we can help them but decide not to?

The shortest answer, according to religion, is that God will punish us if we don't.

But that's taking the easy way out; human nature is not that simple.

Let's start by defining some terms.

Morality. Plato says it is 'the effective harmony of the whole.' 

Jesus said it is 'showing kindness to the weak.'

Nietzsche says it is 'the bravery of the strong.'

Elusive, I know.

According to The Cambridge Dictionary, it is 'a set of personal or social standards for good or bad behavior and character.'

Let's roll with that for now.

A set of standards, personal or social, for good or bad behavior and character. By saying social or personal, that doesn't give our definition the exclusivity that we need, because there are things I would consider to be morally upright, but somebody else may not. 

With that, I think it doesn't get us anywhere near our objective, so let's trash that definition for now.

Let's take a trip down the road of philosophy to find a gentleman by the name of Immanuel Kant. 

He says, 'An action is morally right if and only if its maxim (the underlying principle or rule) can be universally applied without contradiction.'

In other words, we should consider an action morally right if we would be okay with it being adopted as a universal law. 

Now that we are here, why not get the Golden Rule out of the way?

That rule of 'do unto others as you would have them do to you.' If you don't want me to do it to you, then don't do it to me. Pretty clear.

The Bible, Isocrates, and Confucius seemed to agree with this line of thought.

Now, utilitarianism. 

Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill are credited as the pioneers of this doctrine.

The doctrine states that 'actions are right only if they are useful or benefit the majority of people.'

Look at it as a democracy; if it benefits the majority, then it is right without question, and the minority can go to hell. 

Now, let's consult Plato's Republic, that encyclopedia heavy with knowledge and wisdom.

Plato, using Socrates as his mouthpiece in the argument with Thrasymachus, Glaucon, Polemachus, and Cephalus, takes us through the rabbit hole called justice.

I won't bore you with the details, but some counterarguments against Socrates stood out to me.

First, Thrasymacus' aggressive remark to Socrates that justice is the will of the stronger. Socrates crushed that argument with heavenly precision, but just keep in mind for now.

Glaucon then knocks Socrates off his feet using a long prose explaining why we only resort to justice because we know that we can't afford to be unjust without paying for it. He says it is profitable for an individual to be unjust rather than just. However, the cost versus the reward of being unjust, assuming that the next person will try to be unjust to you too, causes us to try to be just. 

He also argues that being known to be just breeds good acts from other people, since people with a reputation for injustice are shunned.

What of the gods? Glaucon claims that there were stories of how their gods were known to be softer towards people who made generous sacrifices, letting them off without as much as a warning. 

So, have a reputation of justice, and you will get rich off it because people would rather deal with a just man than an unjust one, then use the proceeds to appease the gods because they know that you are not really just - you just appear as one. A fool-proof plan, huh?

He then gives the story of Gyges of Lydian's ancestor, who found an invisibility ring, which he used to elevate his position in the state, obviously through unjust ways. He asks what would happen if such a ring were given to a just person; would he not use it the same way?

Approbativeness.

According to John Elster in his book, Explaining Social Behavior: More Nuts and Bolts for the Social Sciences, it is the desire to be well-thought of by others. 

He also defines a couple more terms.

Altruistic motivation, he defines as the desire to enhance the welfare of others even at a net loss to oneself. 

By that logic, an altruistic act is an action for which an altruistic motivation provides a sufficient reason.

Almost there.

There is also the issue of reciprocity, which simply means returning a favor. Though negative reciprocity would be something like tit for tat. 

Quid pro quo, that is, something for something. 

Thomas Hobbes, Napoleon Bonaparte, and countless others recognized fear and self-preservation as the key motivators for what people do. 

Now, let's attempt to tie everything together, applying pressure at the joints, and see what is left standing.

Whenever I walk around, I see beggars on the streets, and sometimes when I am feeling particularly charitable, I drop something in their cup. 

Initially, I used to do so because I thought my Christian upbringing demanded that I help the poor. But it doesn't end there. There is an immediate surge of feel-goodness that one feels when one helps people, a phenomenon called the warm-glow effect. Do we help people because we want to experience that feeling of satisfaction? I don't know. Yet.

Here is when the pieces start connecting. 

First, with my Christian upbringing, I help people because of fear and self-preservation. How? The Bible promises Hell for a person who doesn't help the needy, referring to Jesus' definition of 'kindness to the weak.' That's fear - who wants an eternity of torture over a few coins? 

Then, if I show kindness to the weak, God is happy, and I'm suddenly in his good graces. That's self-preservation, since I know it pays to be in his good graces. At the same time, when other people see me helping a beggar, my approbation tendencies are rewarded as I will be well-liked. Furthermore, like in Glaucon's argument, I will have carved a good reputation for myself. 

What eludes me, though, is the question, "Won't God know our real motives behind helping people? If they're not noble ones, do we get to enter the silver city?"

Let's look at another scenario now: me helping out a friend or a neighbor. 

There is always the idea that I can choose not to help them and get away with it, but I don't do that. 

I help my friend B for a few reasons. He might have helped me before, or I expect him to help me in the future. I can't see the future, but one thing is certain: I will need help. That's reciprocity tangled up with tit for tat, but for the case of both, it is their positive aspects that I'm interested in.

Of course, the best example for quid pro quo would be taking bribes - I scratch your back, you scratch mine. For a case like that, the parties enter a contract and they immediately break it, but for my case with B, we are here to stay.

When I help B, I have tapped, though subconsciously, into Kant's universality principle and the Golden Rule as well. 

Looking at Nietzsche's definition of morality, he is on the same boat as Thrasymachus, believing that it is the strong who get to decide what morality, or even justice, means. Nietszche's other quote, 'Verily I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good because they have no claws.' Interesting. In the same way, Thrasymachus argues that it is only the weak who will insist upon justice because he knows he can't benefit from injustice, for he has 'no claws.' If he could benefit from injustice, though...

Tie it up with our objective of why we help people, because we couldn't have it any other way, as we know we will be outshone by the strong.

Of course, Bentham's utilitarianism only plays well in group settings, a community, or an institution of some sort. Each individual member can't get the better of the next person, so they decide to formulate a bullet-proof ideology that will protect them. Or at least the majority of them.

We are remaining with Plato's definition of morality and Elster's definition of altruistic motivation. 

The desire to improve the welfare of others, even at a net loss to oneself. I guess that would be the right reason for helping other people, without expecting anything in return.

Plato sums it up pretty well as well. Ensuring that the whole is harmonious, if the bolts and nuts have been tightened, the joints lubricated, and the whole system is in complete harmony - that is morality.

That is why we help people. In theory. But deep down, we all have our own reasons for doing so, dark or otherwise. 

I guess the big question is, does it really matter what the intention is if the end result brings about some change in the world?

There is no need to pretend to be saints, if only we were more honest with ourselves.