mood: devious
music: Ben Folds Five – Philosophy
Sunday at church we watched the trailer for the upcoming Hillsong United’s 2009 documentary We’re All in This Together. The project producing the film, I Heart the Revolution, bills their initiative as “a movement of people seeking to help people, showing God’s love in a practical way with no strings attached.”. I commend their movement – but I want to share some thoughts on how they presented their video.
The video features lingering, black-and-white shots of people living in abject poverty and in the various stages of starvation, while the narrator talks about the problems facing humanity.
It is not fair that we can sit and watch the evening news from the comfort of our living rooms and pity those who lived where the storm hit or where the ground shook or where the water rose and simply feel sorry for them and then change the channel and get on with supper.
Is it fair to walk past the homeless man and give him nothing in the assumption that he will spend it on booze or cigarettes or to suggest that he should go out and get a job? Who are we to judge the alcoholic or the prostitute or the addict or the criminal as if we are any better?
It is not fair that we have no problem going about spending three or four dollars on what is basically glorified tap water in a bottle with a fancy label while we have entire communities that suffer at the hands of disease because the only water they have access to is foul and polluted.
This…may not be the right way to appeal for help – the amusing dig at bottled water notwithstanding.
Anybody remember the Christian Children’s Fund, and the commercials featuring Alan Sadler? The ones that show him hanging around starving, impoverished children in a third world country while a lone violin weeps in the background? His speeches went something like this:
“See this little boy? Be the time you watch this, he’ll be dead, because you didn’t give any money to save him. You hate children.” And with the Guilt-Trip-O-Matic in full swing, Alan would implore you to send something…pennies, crumbs, whatever you could find, to help the children. I conducted a highly-unscientific survey of people who had seen these commercials. Based on five people I asked, one had not seen the commercials, and four said that they did not donate. They gave various answers as to why not, ranging from “I donate to local charities.” to “I don’t have spare money.” to “I don’t trust charities such as that one.”
Not one person was moved by the images presented, and more than one person was put off by what can only be described as the shameless emotional manipulation of these spots. To compound the issue, we see stuff like this all the time: donations were less than expected for the 2004 Indian ocean earthquake, and also for the 2005 hurricane season. Americans, if our giving is any indication, seem to have a struggle with compassion fatigue.
I think there are several possible reasons for this. For one thing, in terms of charitable giving, Americans are way up there. In terms of sheer dollars, the United States gives more of its GDP than any other country.1 Regardless of whether it actually helps, The US is great at throwing money at problems – while at the same time we tend to be cynical. For (specific) example, consider the question of “Is it fair to walk past the homeless man and give him nothing in the assumption that he will spend it on booze or cigarettes…”
Unfortunately, there is no way of knowing what happens to the money you give out on the streets, and the assumption that your donation will be spent on drugs or alcohol is, as a general rule, not altogether inaccurate. According to the National Survey of Homeless Assistance Providers and Clients (NSHAPC), 84% of homeless surveyed reported having a substance abuse problem, either drugs or alcohol or a combination of the two2, to say nothing of a general trend toward disruptive mental health disorders.
My point is this: the Hillsong video paints an inaccurate picture, even though there is no specific request for money. It has an undercurrent of guilt and shame that simply isn’t conducive to inspiring people to make a difference. We give quite a bit, but when we see our donations mishandled (The donations the Red Cross took in after Sept. 11th comes to mind.) or see someone with an obvious addiction panhandling on the streets, it’s likely to decrease our willingness to give more – yet at the same thing, there ARE problems in the world that need to be addressed. I think, however, that we need to find a better way to provoke ourselves into action. Beating the same tired horse of “just reach into your pockets and give, brother” is the wrong way to go. The problems facing humanity as a whole are substantial, and real, and no amount of feel-good love or members in a group on Facebook – or donations given out of guilt – can make such enormous issues vanish.
I’m pretty sure that I Heart the Revolution’s, er, heart is in the right place. And I’m pretty sure they’re going to be helping people in ways that are real, doing things that need to be done. My issue was the rather scolding, tired cliches they visited in their video. I believe you can inspire people to action with something other than emotional manipulation and shame. I love the example of the David Crowder Remedy Club Tour. Instead of asking audiences to give money, the band requested that everybody bring towels and socks for local missions in the area. And the towels and socks poured in. That’s what I’m talking about – simple, tangible ways for people to help. Make goodie bags for the homeless. Get involved with ECPAT International.
Be realistic about what you can do, then go do it. Because surely…we can change something.
Exit, stage left.
Sparks
1: Bring Back the Victorians [PDF], The Economist, February 15th 2007. International comparisons of charitable giving, Charities Aid Foundation. (Note: there are a lot of strings (religious, political, and otherwise) attached to American’s charitable donations, and these reports omit that.)
2: Homelessness: Programs and the People They Serve, table 2.4, figure 2.11, full report. [PDF]