ASSUMING RESPONSIBILITY
Imagine you’re taking a leisurely stroll along the beach one morning. Birds are singing, the sun is shining, the waves are crashing in the distance; it’s a picture-perfect moment. By the pier you see four children, seemingly arguing. They notice you approaching and in rapid-fire sequence all race towards you. ‘Please help,’ pants one of the boys. ‘Tell him that he has to give the takkies to me. They’re my size, anyway.’
‘No way,’ replies another boy. ‘I found them so they belong to me. I’ve already decided to sell them so I can buy a new wheel for my bicycle.’
Realising that you’ve been enlisted as mediator and arbitrator, you ask the other two boys if they’re also contending for these sneakers.
‘I don’t know why these other two are even fighting for the shoes,’ says the youngest. ‘I’m the best runner of us all. The shoes will help me the most. Even if they’re a little big, I can still make them work.’
Offering his plea, the tallest boy drops his head forlornly and mumbles, ‘I was hoping my friends would give the shoes to me. They know I only have shoes for church and school and these old sandals.’
Four pairs of eyes all turn their focus to you; though they each desperately want the takkies, they’re evidently unsure about who should keep them.
Weighing up all the stories and motivations, you need to decide which boy will get the sought-after item. Supply is limited, but demand is high; so you need to think carefully.
In narrowing down to a single choice, you will need to consider aspects such as utility – which boy is likely to make the most and best use of the takkies; merit – which boy deserves to get the takkies; and equity – which choice is best for parity that fosters the continued cohesion and friendship of the group. There’s no one clear or inconsequential solution.
Every day, we are all faced with this challenge and opportunity – to make decisions about allocation of resources. Often it’s over personal possessions but sometimes it’s over collective property.
This can be both frustrating and overwhelming; particularly in a city like Johannesburg that has such diversity of class and people with great needs.
Driving down Malibongwe or William Nicol roads, you are likely to get a number of requests for assistance; from a mother asking for food for her and her child; a man asking for any piece job for the day; a graduate asking for a connection to possible employment.
Walking around the Johannesburg CBD, you’re also very likely to be faced with desperate pleas ranging from requests for transport money to get back home; to tear-filled appeals for assistance with accommodation for the night.
There’s no shortage of petitions; and no one right or standardised way to respond to them all.
Limits on our time, hearts and bank accounts make it difficult to respond to every request. Sometimes we don’t have the means to assist, and other times we don’t have the desire to do so.
Many of us also probably subscribe to lifeboat ethics at some level.
SINK, SWIM OR SAIL
Conceptualised by American ecologist Garret Hardin, the Lifeboat Theory is an analogy of limited resources where people are trying to save their lives by climbing on to an already almost full boat. Those swimming outside are at risk of drowning, but the boat is also liable to sink if it gets too full. Those inside the boat need to make a decision. Hardin suggests it should be denying further entry.
‘Suppose we decide to preserve our small safety factor and admit no more to the lifeboat. Our survival is then possible although we shall have to be constantly on guard against boarding parties,’ he wrote in a paper, Lifeboat Ethics: The Case against Helping the Poor.
Hardin’s theory may seem reasonable but it has been rigorously criticised since it was first published in 1974.
Shortcomings that have been pointed out include its narrow scope for alternative solutions such as asking strong swimmers to go to get help or to get another boat and its framing of the powerlessness of those in the water – they could decide to overturn the boat or they could hold on to the sides to minimise the chances of it capsizing.
Though it may no longer be a commonly touted theory, the reality is that the logic informing it remains hugely widespread. Fear about limited resources and the impact of allocating those resources more widely is perhaps one of the reasons why it can be difficult to help those in need.
We are already on the lifeboat, and the desire to safeguard our own place makes it hard to even consider giving up this privilege.
In order to stay in our seat, we craft a world view that sees this privilege as the result of hard work and that defines hard work only through our references and lived experiences.
From this standpoint, it becomes easier to see the merits of our being on the lifeboat and the deficiencies or bad decisions or laziness of those outside.
It helps us with justification of the stance that we are not responsible for the fate and state of those without privilege.
BARRIERS AND BLOCKS
Finding a way to justify our privilege and proffer an explanation for the poverty of others often happens subliminally. We come to these conclusions through beliefs so subtle and layered they often can’t be traced to a single origin. And then perhaps we hold on to them because figuring out resource allocation is tough and tiring.
One of the other barriers to our helping the poor is what social psychologists call fundamental attribution error.
This is when, for example, our fictional lifeboat has made it to the shore. We climb out, put our feet on solid ground and let the sand run through our toes. Turning around, we look back into the distance at those still swimming and trying to get to the shore.
Fundamental attribution error sees a person screaming and thrashing through the water and links that behaviour to how they landed up in the position they’re in. It creates causal links such as: they must be a feisty person; probably always up for a fight; that’s why nobody wanted to help them get on to the boat. Friends and family could have assisted, but they’re probably also fed up with the hot-blooded antics.
Commonly described as the ‘tendency to believe that what people do reflects who they are’, fundamental attribution error emphasises internal characteristics and personality for behaviour. It’s the foundation on which judgement towards the poor is built. This is because it allows us to believe that the poor are poor because of their personal choices and atrocious behaviour; with external factors lightly considered, if at all.
Fundamental attribution error means that even when we have the means to give to the lesser privileged, we may deem them not worthy or ready. By crediting the difficulties of their lives to personality or attitude flaws, we absolve ourselves through an internal narrative that says ‘until they change xxx behaviour, there’s not much I can do’. Fundamental attribution error sees a single act and attributes an entire state of poverty to that one seemingly negative choice. Our involvement in alleviating the challenges faced by a low-income individual then becomes contingent on them demonstrating better behaviour and making wiser decisions. Better and wiser are however determined through our own lenses and references and not necessarily by the other individual. This, because we believe their thinking to be fundamentally and consistently erroneous.
With our personal responsibility removed, any lack of improvement in quality of life for that poor person is due to their character defects.
But this logic only works until roles are reversed.
Returning to the earlier scenario, let’s say you’re on the boat and a gust of wind causes you to lose your balance and fall off into the water. Now you are on the outside, swimming for your life and hoping you can get back on. Shouting doesn’t seem to be working as you can barely hear your own voice above the roar and crash of the waves. So you thrash about wildly, hoping that what the ear misses the eye will catch. Nobody on the boat seems to see or hear you though. You flail with more energy, kicking arms and legs out and high; screaming and shouting for people on the boat to see that you are out, and very much want to get in. To you, all your behaviour makes sense. You’re trying to get the attention of the people on the boat, not being feisty, not threatening for a fight or banging against the hull just to damage it. You’re trying to get the attention of the people on the boat, not being hot-blooded or dramatic or demanding. You’re trying to get the attention of the people on the boat, and friends or family aren’t helping you because they’re busy fighting for their own lives too.
ASSESSED BY AN AUDIENCE
Being able to understand and explain your own behaviour in context to the situation or environment, but crediting other people’s behaviour to their internal characteristics is called actor-observer bias.
According to social psychologists, when we are observing other people’s behaviour we attribute their actions to personal disposition, and not external or environmental factors. We make a fundamental attribution error.
But when we are assessing our own behaviour as the actor, we view our actions relative to the context. Consequently, the exact same behaviour can be viewed through a forgiving or a judgemental lens. Internal factors weigh heavily for others, but for ourselves external factors and context cannot, must not, be discounted. When we are the actors, we are at the mercy of environmental causes; but when we are the observers, bad things happen to other people because of their bad decisions.
These deeply embedded thought patterns inform our perspective on privilege and poverty. Whether we’re conscious of them or not, they guide our choices around protecting our privilege and our behaviour of dismissing the poor. Ultimately, they can determine whether we accept or make moves towards eradicating poverty.
However, even when we’ve decided on the latter, we’re likely to come across more challenges that require different thinking and open minds.
There are people who are poor as a consequence of their behaviour and actions; and there are people who elect poverty – such as those who do so for religious reasons.
But there are many who are poor involuntarily. And often they are trapped in a cycle of systemic poverty. This occurs when the resources necessary to change life circumstances aren’t accessible.
If not born into it, people can find themselves struggling with poverty due to external factors. These can include a low national employment rate, a recession, a famine and political and historical factors such as barriers to ownership of land and property.
Unemployment is one of the biggest causes of poverty and more people seem to be joining the UIF line. In 2019, South Africa reached an unemployment rate of 29 per cent for Q2. This, according to StatsSA, is the highest rate since 2003. Survey results reveal that 46 per cent of black African people are unemployed, while only 9.8 per cent of white people are unemployed. There is also a divide between rural and urban areas: the North West and Eastern Cape provinces have the worst unemployment – 46.6 per cent and 46.5 per cent respectively – while Gauteng and the Western Cape are the only two in which unemployment is below 40 per cent.
These sobering statistics can help bring some clarity as to why so many people are poor; for many it’s not because they are lazy or undisciplined or picky – they are unemployed because the country has too few employers. There are just not enough jobs, which means not enough income, which means not enough money to buy food, electricity, warm clothing. For those without family wealth or financial buffers like savings and investments, unemployment is a harbinger of poverty.
Unable to secure capital to start a business or funding for a better education or employment that pays fairly, the poor stay impoverished, often for generation upon generation.
Systemic causes mean that no matter their work ethic or winsome personality, it will be incredibly hard for some to get out of poverty.
This reality can pose a challenge for how the privileged should respond.
Faced with such monumental issues, individual effort can seem as though it would be futile. But it isn’t.
Both on a macro and micro scale, there is positive change and action that can be taken. Responsibility sits with both the poor and the privileged to work towards a more equitable society.
However there is an additional burden of responsibility on the privileged. We not only have access to basic resources like electricity, sanitation and water; we also have backpacks with tools, maps, money, a network and other amenities which can be utilised to help the poor gain access to basic resources.
Most financial management advice is geared at utilising this backpack to garner and grow money for oneself and one’s family.
When everybody has access to basic resources, this is a sound prescription.
But when millions of people in the country are poor and unable to work themselves out of poverty without intervention and assistance from the privileged, the backpack is a valuable asset. It can be used to help move the poor out of indigence. However, the contents in it are finite. So in order for some to get the basics, the privileged will need to cut back on some luxuries, stand aside so serendipity can land amongst the poor and perhaps even hand over some rainy-day stockpiles with the understanding that when adversity strikes the privileged are better able to handle isolated thundershowers than the poor who live under an unending deluge.
Having identified some of the flawed thinking behind behaviour common amongst the advantaged, such as opportunity hoarding, and the incorrect overemphasising of the value of hard work, it’s evident that the privileged are in a powerful position to bring about positive change.
Over the next few chapters we’re going to explore principles and practices such as philanthropy, charity and justice that can play a crucial role in alleviating poverty and building a more equitable world.