It has been said, often by those who profit by it, that competition and self-interest drive all human progress. I have never been quite convinced of this doctrine. Indeed, I am inclined to think that a world driven purely by self-interest must, at some point, begin to eat its own soul.
Take, for example, the simple act of kindness. Once upon a time, and it was not so very long ago, kindness was something one extended without thinking of reward. A neighbor needed help with a broken gate; you went. A friend lost a job; you gave what you could. There was no invoice. There were no hashtags. There was, mercifully, no “Kindness Awareness Month.”
But when you place a human society under the slow, persistent pressure of a greed-based economic system, a strange metamorphosis begins. Everything, even kindness, even friendship, is eyed with the cold calculating gaze that says, “But how can this be made to pay?”
Thus arises the commodification of virtue; one of the least discussed but most disastrous consequences of a society enthralled by money. What was once spontaneous becomes strategic. What was once sincere becomes staged. We are told now to “invest” in relationships, to build “social capital,” as if helping your neighbor were merely a shrewd move on the chessboard of personal advancement.
Many have heard of community service organizations that might offer an example. Founded with good intentions, once a gathering of those who simply wished to help. But in time grew into something resembling a pyramid scheme, with hierarchies and performance targets and incentives not so unlike those of a second-rate sales company. Employees in firms across the nation find themselves “encouraged”, with all the gentle menace the word now carries, to donate, their participation rates scrutinized as keenly as their quarterly performance.
Kindness, in this setting, is no longer a gift; it is an obligation. Helpfulness becomes something you are scored on. Neighborliness turns into a line on your resume under “community involvement.”
The transformation would be almost amusing, were it not so tragic. When people begin to suspect that every kind word is merely a marketing pitch, that every helping hand expects a future return, the entire fabric of society begins to fray. Trust dies. Friendship withers. We are left with a world full of smiling faces and empty hearts.
Naturally, not all is lost. There remain pockets of resistance; those who act generously without thought of return, who remember that the best things in life are precisely those that cannot be bought or sold. But they swim against a powerful tide, and it requires conscious effort not to be swept away.
In such a world, it is revolutionary simply to do a kindness without photographing it. It is an act of rebellion to help a stranger without a thought of posting about it. And perhaps, just perhaps, if enough small rebellions occur, we may yet preserve some fragment of the natural goodness that once made community a thing of joy, rather than a line item in a strategic growth plan.
For my part, I propose that the next time you perform an act of kindness, you do so as inefficiently and unprofitably as possible. In so doing, you may at least be sure you are not contributing to the great and tragic commercialization of the human spirit.
Join us in making the world a better place – you’ll be glad that you did. Cheers friends.