Chances are, you know someone who abides by the great therapy
culture principle: What about my needs?
Somehow or other, after thousands of years of human
civilization we have arrived at a principle that is self-obsessed,
self-involved and downright selfish.
Score one for the therapy culture.
Ethical thinkers have always emphasized the value of
doing good for others. The Bible tells us to do unto others as you would have
others do unto you; Aristotle counsels benevolence; Confucius speaks of the
value of magnanimity; John Kennedy exhorted Americans to ask what they could do
for their country.
Extending a hand of friendship is always a good thing. In
Zen Buddhism, it’s called: the sound of the one hand clapping. It is surely
better than a fist of defiance or aggression. It doesn’t always work out for
the best, but more often than not it does.
If you are married, your job is to make your spouse happy.
Your spouse’s job is to make you happy. You are both in the business of
ensuring mutual happiness and domestic harmony because your children depend on
it, you community depends on it and your ability to function in the outside
world depends on it.
Anyone who starts whining about “my needs” has probably had too much therapy. .
Today, the New York Times Magazine offers a
fascinating portrait of a Wharton professor named Adam Grant who has not only
made giving selflessly a way of life but has taught the theory, done the
research and written a book about the topic.
Grant suggests that we are more happy and more productive
when we give and contribute than when we see ourselves pursuing mere self-interest.
We work more effectively when we see our work in a larger
context. If we believe that our colleagues need us to do a good job, that our
family is depending on us to succeed, that our customers would suffer if we do
shoddy work… we will work harder, longer and more effectively.
Susan Dominus summarizes Grant’s idea in the Times:
The
greatest untapped source of motivation, he argues, is a sense of service to
others; focusing on the contribution of our work to other peoples’ lives has
the potential to make us more productive than thinking about helping ourselves.
Grant works in a field that has been thoroughly neglected by
the therapy culture: motivational psychology.
Dominus offers an example that tends to demonstrate Grant’s
point:
In one
study, Grant put up two different signs at hand-washing stations in a hospital.
One reminded doctors and nurses, “Hand hygiene prevents you from catching
diseases”; another read, “Hand hygiene prevents patients from catching
diseases.” Grant measured the amount of soap used at each station. Doctors and
nurses at the station where the sign referred to their patients used 45 percent
more soap or hand sanitizer.
Clearly, this is an important problem. It requires a solution. Grant seems to have
discovered one way—surely not the only way—to motivate hospital staff in the
right direction.
Obviously, he has his detractors. Dominus quotes one:
Jerry
Davis, a management professor who taught Grant at the University of Michigan
and is generally a fan of his former student’s work, couldn’t help making a
pointed critique about its inherent limits when they were on a panel together:
“So you think those workers at the Apple factory in China would stop committing
suicide if only we showed them someone who was incredibly happy with their
iPhone?”
This feels like a devastating counterargument. It isn’t.
We do not know whether Grant’s idea would improve worker
morale at the Foxconn plant because, I suspect, it has never been tried.
Davis takes for granted that worker suicides have been
caused by heartless managers forcing employees to perform mindless repetitive
work under less than humane conditions. This might be true. It might not be
true. Unless we know something about the individuals who committed suicide it
is difficult to draw a general conclusion.
And, it is altogether possible, though not very Kantian,
that Grant’s motivational technique works in some but not all situations.
Besides, there’s more to benevolence than giving a pep talk
about happy customers. A benevolent employer does try to create work conditions
that maximize performance and productivity.
In a recent article in the Harvard Business Review Grant
describes the relevant research findings:
Consider
a landmark meta-analysis led by Nathan Podsakoff, of the University of Arizona.
His team examined 38 studies of organizational behavior, representing more than
3,500 business units and many different industries, and found that the link
between employee giving and desirable business outcomes was surprisingly
robust. Higher rates of giving were predictive of higher unit profitability,
productivity, efficiency, and customer satisfaction, along with lower costs and
turnover rates. When employees act like givers, they facilitate efficient
problem solving and coordination and build cohesive, supportive cultures that
appeal to customers, suppliers, and top talent alike.
One reason that people do not all embrace Grant’s approach
is that they fear being exploited.
Some people believe that human beings are exploiting
machines who want nothing more than to use each other for their personal
benefit. Give them an inch, the saying goes, and they will take an arm.
While it is true that some people will take advantage of our
kindness and generosity, it is also true that if all your friends are more take
than give, you should do a better job of choosing your friends.
It should be obvious that not everyone will respond
positively to a gesture of friendship or benevolence. Yet, Grant’s technique
allows you, economically, to differentiate between takers and givers.
Dominus writes:
The
most successful givers, Grant explains, are those who rate high in concern for
others but also in self-interest. And they are strategic in their giving — they
give to other givers and matchers, so that their work has the maximum desired
effect; they are cautious about giving to takers; they give in ways that
reinforce their social ties; and they consolidate their giving into chunks, so
that the impact is intense enough to be gratifying.
No one imagines that every time you offer to help someone out
or to do a favor you are going to receive recompense or even a thank you. But,
most of the time you will, and even if you don’t you will easily know who is at fault.
What quality was most likely to lead people to over-give? In his Harvard Business Review article Grant says that it’s "empathy." What a surprise!
Giving involves a transaction; it means following a rule. It's not the same as following your bliss. When you overrule the rule by trying to feel everyone else’s
pain, you are more likely to less judicious in your selections. If someone betrays your trust or fails to acknowledge your benevolence you are not obliged to feel what he feels or to excuse him because he's having a bad day.
Interestingly, Dominus describes Grant himself as something
of a compulsive over-giver. He might be living proof of the fact that it is
better to give too much than not to give at all. He hardly seems to be a victim
of exploitation.
Yet, it is also true that if you give too much you might
alienate the person who is receiving your largesse.
It is commonly accepted among those who study gift-giving
that it is not necessarily a good thing to offer too much to people you do not
know very well, if at all. And you should understand that giving too much will
feel like a demand.
We are instinctively programmed to reciprocate
generosity, so we should always try to keep our good deeds within the bounds of
what another person can reasonably be expected to give back.
Human beings are not programmed to exploit each other—that’s
a vile slander— but they are programmed to cooperate and to get along with each
other.
Yet, Dominus arrives at an interesting point: what if Grant’s
giving represents nothing more than a fear of disappointing other people.
In her words:
On the
day I followed Grant as he hurried to his office hours at Wharton, I read
something on his face that registered as more than just busyness; he seemed
anxious. I wondered whether Grant was driven by the desire to help or a deep
fear of disappointing someone.
But, how do you tell the difference. Doesn’t the therapy
culture want us to think that behind every good deed lies a bad motive.
What is the practical consequence of thinking this way? If
giving is a form of psychopathology then Grant
should undergo some psychotherapy in order to get over his bad habit and to get back in touch with his basic greed.
Of course, we do not want to disappoint
other people. It’s part of our connection to others; it’s part of what
motivates us to do our best. It’s what you do when you have some self-respect
and when you understand that your self-respect depends on the
respect you show others.