Giving thoughts on generosity

the poor widow, Chris McCandless and the wrong ways to be good

Lately I have been asking people questions about generosity. The more that I ask, the bigger the topic gets, so readers I warn you that the Substack below is all over the place, and that’s being, well, generous.

Surely there’s a biological reason why generosity is valued in societies all over the globe. But is it really that generous to give things to people who already have enough? But who am I to assess whether someone has “enough?” Are gestures including customs and hospitality, bringing a gift to a party, examples of generosity or are they just playing house, connected to status and judgment?

A further investigation on the origins of altruism is surely in order, and of course many have asked if generosity and altruism are ultimately linked to selfishness. An evolutionary biologist named George Price studied the biological quality of altruism quite a lot actually.

I grew up in a religious household. We regularly read The Bible and The Book of Virtues. The idea of being good was discussed at supper, which we ate together around our kitchen table every night.

All my life I have been taught to be generous; to much is given much is expected. But also there is a conflict between the idea that in order to be kind and good, one must have the means to give. By celebrating generosity are we inadvertently celebrating wealth first?

Last week over a video chat with my parents I was reminded of the parable with Jesus and the poor woman and her two coins. She gave modestly and deeply over the rich folk nearby, who gave small portions of their wealth dramatically.  

This is from the New International Version:

41 Jesus sat down opposite the place where the offerings were put and watched the crowd putting their money into the temple treasury. Many rich people threw in large amounts. 42 But a poor widow came and put in two very small copper coins, worth only a few cents.

43 Calling his disciples to him, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. 44 They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything—all she had to live on.”

So according to Jesus, basically, you’re more generous and commendable if you give away everything, and whatever you do, don’t make a scene.

Sometimes I have grand fantasies about giving all my money away. I fantasize about losing my life to save someone else’s, but the cringe caveat is that other people see and acknowledge me do so. Surely I’m not alone in these weird thoughts. There is a darker side not to generosity, but to the desire to be seen as generous. Youtubers have received backlash for being modern day generosity-show-offs, like the rich dudes from the old days in the parable. I recall the fascinating ethics of the New York Times Magazine article Who is the Bad Art Friend? and the woman proudly wanted to give away her kidney, but just as important was the recognition for doing so.

I did some casual Instagram polls last week, examining some of these ideas.

Sometimes I imagine giving my money to a worthy cause like feeding starving children or environmental conservation. But sometimes I imagine giving my money away to someone I just love a lot who doesn’t need it. To a stranger on the bus next to me, even. Maybe I should give everything away to someone who has not lived a very good life, not “deserving” as some might say. Imagine if I gave money away to a cult leader or controversial figure, just to annoy the self righteous in my circles.

I have a dear friend I think of often named George. Before she moved away, she and I would discuss these topics all the time. She would tell me that money, like power, is dangerous and should be given away as quickly as possible. Today she made a comment on my Facebook post of a similar nature, as I wondered if generous people were more likely to be taken advantage of. I’ll just screenshot it here. George is so smart and I love everything she writes and has to say.

But if someone dislikes the way in which I’ve given away my money, do I still get to be seen as generous? Would it be better to set my money on fire than to give it to an unworthy cause?

I think about the scene from the movie Into The Wild where the character playing Chris Mccandless sets his money on fire. Later he paraphrases Thoreau and his quest for truth as, I suppose, the most virtuous of all the ambitions.   

What would generosity look like if it wasn’t connected to money? What if we only gave time, kind words, nice food and physical touch. What if generosity meant relaying skills, singing songs, building sandcastles and performing dances for one another?

Thanks for generously giving me your time on this one, readers. I’m still figuring it all out. xoxoxo

Here’s what I’ve been reading and learning about this week.

Last night I saw Blackbird by Her Productions. Truly it knocked me out of the park. Everyone should go see it and then come have a conversation with me about it.

At the Gallery where I now work, we have this great exhibition called Settled/ Unsettled exploring asylum seeking, refugees, migrants and so much more. One of the artists is Kathrin Longhurst, now residing in Australia, but born on the Eastern, soviet side of the Berlin Wall. I listened to this podcast where she describes her life growing up and how she came to paint strong triumphant women like the incredible portraits in this exhibition.