MarkPNeyer.com

I helped a stranger today. It felt pretty good. I was driving to Biggs in Hyde Park to get some groceries, and I saw a guy trying to push a truck across Dana just before the entrance to I-71. I pulled over and he looked at me with a look like ‘please help me’, so I parked in the median and got out ot help him push his car across the street. I was already starting to get that rush that I get when I help someone who really needs it. He kept thanking me, and told me that he worked for a furniture store in Batavia, and if I ever wanted to come out there to get some furniture, I was welcome. We made small talk until I got him to where he was going, which was maybe 10 minutes from where I was going. He said ‘thanks’ again, and I left.

I felt really good after this, and, as is always the case with me, I started to think about why. Why does helping someone like that make you feel good? Should I now start to consider a career in service? The next step my mind always takes it to construct alternate scenarios with slightly altered parameters. What if, instead of having me drive him to oakley, a mere 2 minutes from my original destination, he wanted a drive to west chester? That woudn’t have bothered me. Further? Dayton? I think maybe that would have, but I don’t know. I once drove a stranger 45 minutes to his house, but I didn’t have work the next day. That felt pretty good, too.

I think I understand why it feels good to help someone else. From an evolutionary standpoint, it makes sense. Helping someone else not only betters the species but also conveys to potential mates that you’re so good at providing for yourself, you’re capable of helping out others as well. Is it really about the other person? Interestingly enough, I had a reasonably good test of this. On the way back from getting my groceries, I drove back by where we had left his truck, and I noticed that he’d left the door open. I debated with myself for about 20 seconds whether I should turn around and shut his door for him. I know that two distinct thoughts went through my head – one of them was how i’d feel after shutting his door, and the other was how he’d feel. At first, I didn’t think I’d feel much after shutting his door and kind of wrote it off, but then I started to think about how he’d feel. At first, I figured he wouldn’t feel much of anything, but then imagined myself coming out of the house to find my car all cold and wishing I’d shut the door. I wasn’t really sure when this guy was coming back for his car, but I figured I’d go back and shut the door for him. I did, and didn’t get nearly the rush that I did when he first got in my car.

Am I really generous? Am I really a good samaritan? It’s hard to say. My experience with the door tells me that at first glance my actions were based upon the fact that I knew I’d feel good after helping that guy, but that I still made the choice to help the guy out even after I realized I probably woudn’t feel all that great. I have no idea how he’s going to feel when he gets to his car this morning. Part of my ignorance is due to the fact that i find it hard for me to imagine how others are thinking.

More thought experiments come to mind, now. He smelled kind of bad because he was smoking. If he would have asked if I minded if I smoked, I would have asked that he not smoke. Why? I’m sure smoking would have made him feel really good right then. Does the fact that I’d prefer if he didn’t smoke in my car make me selfish? Does it prove that I really only helped the guy in order to obtain the personal benefit of feeling good for helping someone? As I turned out of a neighborhood onto Paxton, I thought of the prisoner’s dilemna game, which I think is an excellent model for human interaction. Except, in this case, the other player had no choice. It was up to me to either cooperate, do nothing, or be adversarial – I could have chosen to attack the guy and steal his wallet, I could have chosen to drive by and do nothing, but I choose to help. How do you quantify the payoffs in those scenarios? I decided that what had happened in that situation is that my payoff was highest for cooperating; I’d feel terrible if I decided to attack the guy to take his money.

Ultimately, I think what I’m looking for is an answer to my question of what it means to be truly generous. I realize that i’m asking a question that has no reasonble answer, though. I think based upon my experience, both in this and past instances of helping strangers, that I do have some conclusions that make sense to me.

One of them is that I (and I suspect most people are the same way) am completely irrational when it comes to helping people. I would have no problem spending an hour of my time helping a stranger push his car out of a ditch or giving a ride somewhere. Would I feel the same about helping a stranger build a deck for his backyard or pave his driveway? Hmm. I actually kind of think maybe I would. It’d feel pretty awesome to show up at some guy’s house, and tell him you were going to help him with that project he was working on. What about showing up to work a shift at P.F. Chang’s, back in fall 2004? I don’t think I’d feel nearly as good. Does that mean that the good benefits from charity don’t acrue to actions performed for commercial enterprises? This thought struck me as I pulled in to the Bigg’s parking lot. What if I suddenly got it? I’ve always tried to understand why some people are so opposed to free trade and free markets and capitalism; I hoped that maybe just now I understood their line of thinking. I thought about it more, though. Could you have an economy based upon being helping each other beacuse it feels good to do so? What if, instead of P.F. Chang’s, it was some place owned by a single family that was struggling ? I should think that would feel good. Does that mean that you have to help people instead of an organization or group to feel good, then? I don’t think so, because helping out an organization designed to, say, make microloans to small buisnesses in developing nations sounds really good to me. That’s both financial and impersonal.

What about helping someone who doesn’t really need help? What If that guy building the deck was really rich? I think I’d get less of a positive feeling from helping him out than if he were of a similar economic background to my own, and definitely less of a positive feeling than if here were very poor.

That example, I think is what gets to the crux of the matter, at least for me. I can’t speak for others, but I feel right now that when I help someone, it only feels good if I feel like I’m somehow ‘better’ than the person I’m helping. This doesn’t sound right to me right now, so I’ll clarify a bit. If a fellow college student were in trouble, I’d have no problem helping him out. If he wasn’t in trouble, though, and didn’t need my help, I don’t think I’d feel all that great. A perfect example: I’d feel great about giving a friend money because he was tight on cash and telling him not to bother paying me back. I don’t think I’d feel nearly as great about giving a wealthy friend the same about of money. Is that because I can’t imagine them being as happy about getting the same amount of money? Perhaps.

Hmmm. I now reject my former conclusion. I think I was trying to explain this from a biological standpoint, but honestly I can’t make sense of it that way. Maybe It’s because I’m tired right now. It seems to me, though, that helping someone connects you to a larger whole.

– I’d like to finish this, but I just got tired and couldn’t think clearly anymore. I’m still pondering it…