On Moral Integrity

Tonight is the first night of Focus the Nation, a week of climate-related events, on my campus. This means I'll be thinking about, learning about, talking about climate change even more than usual.

So, tonight I am hurrying home in the Burlington chill from "Climate Change 101," a great talk a friend of mine gave, when I walk by a man huddled up in a dark stoop. He asks me for change. I walk on, mumbling, "sorry," then stop. It's 15 degrees outside. It's cold. I am wearing a long down jacket with my hood pulled down, a hat, a scarf and gloves, and I'm still cold. I pull out my wallet and give him a couple of bucks. Is that irrational?

Something I've been struggling with lately - a pet peeve of mine - is this idea that humans only behave in ways that benefit themselves. Even when academics or the talking heads discuss charitable behavior, they still manage to attribute it to selfishness - people do good things to make themselves look good, they say - to get their name on the building or impress their neighbors. But when I walked by that man tonight and decided to stop, decided to take the time to take out my wallet and give him a couple bucks, no one was watching. And I didn't do it with the intention of writing about it either. Before you try to discredit me, stop and ask yourself, would you have done the same? I bet you would - you would have done something. And if not in that case, I am sure there are cases you can think of when you have gone out of your way to do some good without receiving anything in return - no one was watching. But the academics don't believe it, and the economists would call us irrational - "rational" behavior is selfish behavior.

This idea that selfish behavior is the default makes it that much harder to promote individual action on climate change. If you internalize the belief that humans are fundamentally selfish, why would you take the bus or forgo that SUV? You wouldn't. Because climate solutions are not just about individual action - they rely on aggregate action. So, you not only have to trust that you are capable of making choices with moral integrity, but you also have to convince yourself that enough others will do the same to make your action worthwhile. Ah, the tragedy of the commons - the prisoner's dilemma... But these theories of human behavior assume two things: you will act selfishly, and so will everyone else. But if you were grazing cows in Garret Hardin's tragedy and you could trust that your neighbors would do their best to keep from overgrazing the land, you would be much more likely to limit your herd, as well. After all, what's the point of limiting your herd if no one else does? It is the belief that the tragedy will occur - the belief that others are selfish - that helps fulfill the prophesy.

So, turn it around: I just stopped and gave a couple bucks to a stranger in the total darkness on a desolate street. I don't presume to be any more morally sophisticated than anyone else - I think it's safe to assume others would do the same. Interestingly, when I act with moral integrity, it makes it easier to believe that others will as well - a positive feedback loop. When I believe others will act on a problem that takes collective action, it makes it easier for me to act and vice versa.

So, let's stop thinking about humans as an amoral "rational" species. I'd rather be irrational.