To Have and Have Not

Today is the final day of regular classes for my undergraduate experience. I am pleased. If you have read my post previous to this you will have a glimpse of how the impending graduation is affecting me. For a week or two my creativity and intelligence factors have seemingly been less than what they usually are. Rereading that last sentence makes me think the drought isn't fully recompensed yet. Moving on. The reading assignment for today's ethics class was a New York Times (1999) article, "The Singer Solution to World Poverty" by Peter Singer. It is an interesting piece, so I would like to comment on it here. In a way it is my swan song after a final semester of complacency and just getting by academically. Formal schooling doesn't have a monopoly on learning, it doesn't even have a Baltic Ave on learning. [which reminds me that a long time ago I mentioned an article I was writing about formal education, I will perhaps return to that writing after school is over.]
Peter Singer is a professor at Princeton University, and a crusader for helping the world's impoverished, and animals. He is utilitarian and relativistic in his personal ethics, from what I can find written about him online (http://www.angelfire.com/ego2/ld/peter_singer.html, http://www.princeton.edu/~psinger/). Apparently he is quite a controversial thinker. I don't know about all of that, though, perhaps I will read more later. The article on the angelfire.com site seemed interesting, I read only a few paragraphs. I want to comment on the "World Poverty" article.
Singer sets up a scenario to support his argument, which I will explain after I explain the scenario. A man nearing retirement age invests his money in an expensive car with appreciating value - making it a true investment. This man enjoys using his car as much as he enjoys keeping it as his retirement account. One day he parks by a railway and takes a walk. He notices a runaway train, with no passengers or operators, on course to collide with a child. The child is too far from the man for him to affect any successful rescue attempt, except for throwing a switch and diverting the train to another track. Well what's the problem? The only way to save the child is to throw the switch and divert the train? Do it. Unfortunately for the man, his car is parked on the side rail and will be destroyed if he diverts the train. He has a choice to make, save the child and lose his retirement fund, or let the child (who he doesn't know and has zero conscious attachment to) die and save his retirement. You probably have an immediate emotional response to this scenario, keep that in mind.
People spend more money than they need to, those who have money to spend, that is. After necessities are paid for, what do we do with our money? Singer suggests that it is immoral not to use our excess for the benefit of other people throughout the world. In the retirement investor example, the man has to decide between his personal well-being and the life of another person. This is analogous to all of us. Money spent on convenience food and HD television could be better spent on saving a starving child, vaccinating an at risk village in a developing nation or literating (my word) the illiterate of the world. These examples are mine, but the message is Singer's. Those who have ought to give to those who have not. When I buy the $800 guitar instead of the equally playable $200 one, I am neglecting the child on the train track to save my expensive car. And I am acting immorally by doing so.
I agree with Singer, in principle, but I don't know where the line ought to be drawn. How do we determine how much to give? I can certainly cut back on some of my luxury spending in order to donate more to charity, but when you put it in terms like the train track scenario, how much more could I cut back in order to save more children? What if there are three tracks to choose between switching to and each has a child on it? Maybe I have time to drive my car in front of the train to stop it and save all of the children, but I only have enough time to get on the track with the car, not get out. How far do I go in sacrificing for the starving children of the world? Do I give my life for them?
There are probably sufficient resources for all people in the world to live comfortably, so why do we have such stratification? I suggest that the answer can be found in the first of the Ten Commandments of the Old Testament. Exodus 20:3 "Thou shalt have no other gods before me." It isn't a matter of money or resources, it is a matter of focus. Are we focused on accumulating goods because they make us feel good? What other purpose is there for collecting things? I think we all have the tendency to want to feel good, it is a natural drive. "Feeling good" can be defined and expressed in many different ways, of course. And we all pursue different avenues to reach that destination. Singer addresses one aspect of that in what he calls luxuries, categorized by things acquired beyond what would be termed a necessity. It is very subjective, but I think we can agree that we all do things seeking to feel good, or at least better than we previously were feeling. I don't want to whittle this down into one form or another of ethical philosophy, meaning a concrete reason why people "do" or "don't." I simply think that there is an individual motivation in most to all people that says "I want to feel good, or at least better than I do now." I'm not making implications about whether or not this is right or how it ought to be, it just is. So, we seek to feel good and focus on that. Unless we seek to feel good through obtaining a steady influence of the love of God in our lives, our focus isn't going to be on God.
The first commandment says that we should have no other gods before our God, our Heavenly Father. This means that we are to put no other thing, person or ideal above our focus on God. He promises that if we trust in him and exercise faith he will provide for us. Jesus posed to his disciples, "...Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin: And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these" (Matthew 6:28-29). OK, now tie it all together, Ajax.
Singer suggests we meet our needs and then give of our excess to help others. Many of us, upon hearing that, start hemming and hawing (whatever that means) about "what is a need?" or "doesn't God want us to be happy and doesn't buying a nicer car make me happy?" How about "but I work hard for my money, can't I spend it how I want. Let the starving people work hard for themselves." These are excuses and rationalizations. The issue being addressed by Singer is superficial. Sharing our excess resources is good, but it is akin to treating symptoms and not addressing underlying causes. Will an increase in charitable donations bring about improved living conditions for some? I believe it would. But it won't fix the problem. In fact, it could make things worse. Something for nothing does nothing good for everyone. What I want to derive out of all of this, finally, is that we need to change our focus. Singer addresses a problem using money as the surface feature, but structurally it is a matter of focus. The man in the fancy car scenario is focused on himself more than the life of a child. He would rather allow a child to die (by the way, in the scenario presented by Singer the man does let the child die to protect his car) than to sacrifice his material goods. It isn't a matter simply of money, but of focus. Why do we spend our money on extravagances and luxuries rather than use our resources to help others? Because our focus is on ourselves.
When I read the article by Singer I felt a twinge of pain, knowing that I indulge in excess. Can I be more charitable, sure, but a more important matter is where I fix my focus. I think it comes down to a question such as this "what do I want in (or from) life?" When we honestly address this question and take some time to think about how we can obtain what we want I think we can begin to address the structure behind the issue presented by Singer. Am I in this for myself? For my family? For God? What do I want, how can I get it. But even if everyone took a moment to contemplate and evaluate their motivations we wouldn't see universal solution to problems like poverty. Some people would still decide their focus should be self, and would continue to act as such. Does that mean we don't bother? I don't think so. I know I can't change much. Perhaps I can't change anything other than myself, but I can change myself. If I can reassess my life and fix my focus then I think I'm doing OK.
So I try. I think and plan and remember, for a little while. Then I get home to my TV, Internet connected computer, refrigerator full of convenience food and other such amenities, and I slowly forget the starving children and my human connection with them. I forget God and return to self-focus. Until another instance of bringing things to my mind again and I feel guilty and desire to better align my focus and improve. It is a process. Sometimes you've gotta break the machine and rebuild. Once the robot starts laser blasting people with its eyes and snapping necks, do you just wring your hands and lament over ever making the robot, but decide there is nothing you can do now because it is already in motion? NO! You (hopefully) dismantle the robot and rebuild it. Sometimes you have to dismantle your life and rebuild it. It is a process.
In my personal revolution I sometimes have these moments when I realize I need to dismantle the machine and start over. And with each new build the machine works better than it did before.