Um … that was a rhetorical question. I don’t think I am, but your opinion may vary.
I was just reminded in the last few days why people often view us INTJ/freedomista/rational/free-market types as having icy souls.
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The Wandering Monk likes to see himself as a person who helps people. And he genuinely does much good. He goes out of his way for people all the time. He specializes in clients who don’t have a lot of money and he charges accordingly. He often spends late nights counseling troubled acquaintances. He does little things for clients that are above the call of duty. But in addition to doing good, he’s deeply invested in his self-image as a person who does good.
Yesterday, talking about the minion he hopes to bring with him later in the week, he referred repeatedly to the man’s circumstances: employed only two days a week, wife and kids to support. The Monk made it clear that while the proposed minion had some mechanical abilities, his main motive in asking the guy to step into the project was, “I feel sorry for him.”
I had absolutely zero patience with the idea of hiring out of pity. All I wanted to know was whether the guy could do the job and would he be worth what I was going to have to pay him.
To me, hiring somebody out of pity is degrading.
While my reaction to the Monk’s desire to help the guy definitely brought out the Randian in me, and I know the Monk is genuinely kind, the Randian view gives far more credit to the person being hired. It assumes they’re capable and worthy of earning their keep. It respects their dignity.
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Over the weekend neighbor J and I attended a charity event. Now, one thing I love about this community is that the locals really turn up to help each other and help local organizations. Every other fundraiser I’ve ever attended has been crowded and busy with people bidding up the auction items, buying dozens of raffle tickets, and just generally being there. It’s part of the spirit of this community. It’s amazing.
This event … was sad. For one thing, it was a rare nice weekend evening and prospective attendees probably just wanted to be outdoors. That could explain why the room was only half full. Beyond that, though, the event was poorly advertised, poorly run, and became a heartbreak for the volunteers who’d worked behind the scenes to bring it about.
Even once they saw attendance was down, they could still have done a dozen things to get the attendees fired up and give them more opportunity and motivation to contribute.
For instance, the event featured an enormous — and gorgeous — silent auction. One of their chief volunteers died last fall, leaving them all his household goods. This was fabulous retro stuff — 1950s vintage, mostly, and in as good a shape as if it were bought yesterday. (Why they didn’t advertise these treasures far and wide, I can’t imagine. People would have come from miles to bid on teak tables, Chinese bowls, and vintage “space age” lamps. Antique dealers and junque dealers would have come. Heck, I know one collector just three blocks from the event who would have bid on it all had he known.)
The before-dinner bidding was dismal. Most of that household stuff wasn’t drawing any interest. Zero bids. I put my name on a few items, at low-as-dirt prices, figuring that before they closed the auction, everybody would be given another 10 or 15 minutes to bid on things, check existing bids, and bump their bids if somebody else got ahead of them. I just knew I’d be outbid on all of it. How could I not be?
They should have used the after-dinner program to whip up our competitive spirit. They should have reminded us all of how valuable some of that old stuff was. They should have made the pitch, “We know attendance is low, but that gives you all a better shot at getting these great items.” They could have said, “We know attendance is low, but you know we’re a worthy cause. So help us out by getting up after dinner and bidding those items up!” They could have said, “Take home of memory of [deceased volunteer’s name] to stay with you forever.” Then they should have urged, “Now, get out there before we close the auction and BID YOUR BEST!”
They did none of that. Instead, as soon as dinner and some really dumb (and confusing) contests were over, they abruptly announced, “Okay. If you’re the winning bidder, go get your bid sheet and pay the cashiers.”
I was dumbfounded. As it happened, I’d already gotten restless and walked around the edge of the room checking bids (still dismal; I added my name to a few more items that had zero bids on them, mostly hoping to generate some competition for the after-dinner part of the bidding). I’d worked my way back around to the podium at the moment they made that announcement. “Wait,” I asked. “You’re already closing the auction? Shouldn’t you …?” But no, they really meant it.
They could have earned hundreds more than they did on that silent auction — maybe $1,000 — simply by giving attendees time and motivation to bid again.
And they left all that potential money the table while being visibly upset about what a failure their event was.
Neighbor J — a very kind person, but a business woman who works with the public and a bit of a freedomista herself — had the same take I did. We felt their heartbreak and we empathized. We knew that a genuinely worthy cause would suffer for the next year. But we could count a half dozen obvious ways they’d mismanaged themselves into failure.
J may volunteer to run the event next year even though she’s otherwise not a volunteer with the organization. Not sure what I’ll do, but if she takes on that job, I’ll do what I can to help her behind the scenes. The event had tons of willing volunteers; what it didn’t have was competent organizers, PR people, and presenters.
Me, I ended the event by finding a friendly volunteer with a pickup truck to haul home all the incredible freaking vintage tables, the shelf unit, the lamps, and other items I picked up for as little as $2 each. As I hauled my winnings to the loading dock, five or six people said, “Oh, I love that one! I was thinking about bidding on it.”
Normally at these events I just walk around pushing up bids, making things a little more exciting, confident I won’t actually win much, if anything. I’ll even goad people into outbidding me in those last after-dinner minutes of scribbling hastily on bid sheets. It was a big of a shock to actually … win.
I confess I feel kind of guilty for that pickup load of vintage loot for such a sorry reason. But do I feel sorry for the people who’d hoped to make hundreds on my items and didn’t even make a single hundred? Not so much. I feel sorry for the behind-the-scenes planners who may not have been responsible for how badly the public faces and the people responsible for advertising handled their jobs. I feel terrible for the clients who might be put at risk due to the fundraiser’s flop.
But I also think charity isn’t an excuse for bad organizing. I think good causes deserve good planning and presentation. And even a little hard-sell, manipulation, and creative tap dancing when things aren’t going their best.
Which would have been better last weekend for the people in need that that organization serves: hard heads or soft hearts?
Is it not sort of a question of the value of trying to help out?
We all can use a little help from time to time. I find it fun to help those who seek to make their own way and little think to ask for much, but sometimes get in a pickle. The extra hand can make for a fast resolution.
There are a few who stop trying because they’ve learned some will feed them anyway. I think trying help here is a sink hole…
Good point, John. I think that’s exactly it when it comes to helping individuals. Are you helping or merely enabling? Are you “helping” to make yourself feel superior or are you genuinely motivated to give a deserving peer an opportunity?
Some people do not know how to do – how to promote or advertise, or push or encourage others. (Some others, especially independents or MYOB’ers, WILL not push and are inclined to let the buyer/bidder come to them, thinking s/he knows what they want).
Some people don’t have imagination beyond the original idea – how to follow-through or expand their ideas into success. (That’s why so many startups fail.)
Many people do not have the experience or expertise to carry a successful event to the end. Or know how to write or express what they want the client/buyer/bidder to do.
Claire, I understand you don’t want to write at this time, but maybe a pamphlet(s) outlining how to undertake and promote any community event (auction, dog show, firemen’s BBQ, whatever) would help in the future. Or articles in the local/regional newspaper or freebie newsletter. Maybe someone else could write it.
Any giving I do is mostly for enabling. I’m not much on pity parties for those who’ve created problems for themselves. So, help those who are working in whatever way to help themselves do better.
…maybe a pamphlet(s) outlining how to undertake and promote any community event (auction, dog show, firemen’s BBQ, whatever) would help in the future. Or articles in the local/regional newspaper or freebie newsletter.
Claire Wolfe, Community Organizer! She could call it Friendly Suggestions for Freedomistas.
Can the White House be far behind? I’m told we still need that essential First Woman President…
Claire your no more a b—h than I an a–h—, I know that will make you feel better for sure!
One thing I have run into over and over is that some people who when they get in control of an event they drive anyone away with any different ideas because of that person (the one running it) IMHO complete insecurity. I love planning meetings where you get together and people have ideas then whoever is running the show just does what they want without taking serious any input from anyone else and they have little or no communication skills to explain why they have decided to do what they have decided to do, that in itself will drive people away from even attending the event.
I knew a guy, a small business owner, who had a tendency to hire staff based on their need for the job, rather than their skills. These hires always worked out badly. First, they invariably screwed up the work. Second, they didn’t stick around.
I’d be willing to hire a newbie who had a strong work ethic and a demonstrated ability and willingness to learn. And I’ve known talented and hard workers who honestly couldn’t find work*; when they do find work they appreciate it and are determined not to screw up. Maybe the minion will be one of those.
* I expect to see a lot more good people looking for whatever work they can get in the next few years, as the economy tanks.
I’m not suggesting Claire become a “community organizer”, but additional education and salesmanship skills might be needed [by the auction group] in order to succeed. Some people don’t have the knowledge or ability to take a project to the finish line – and never realize why they failed. If Claire can see what is needed, she might in some way be able to put a bug in their (or someone’s) ear.
Charity is fine… within reason. It’s nice that the Wondering Monk is helping out a down and out person but what happens if, through the actions of this person, things go south and you find your home unlivable?
Today a lot of folks are getting burned out by the amount of organizations that beg you to give until you drop. It seems like every time you open a paper, look at a TV or turn on a radio there is a begging ad from somebody wanting to support something. Save the children, save the homeless, save the fill in the blank… it never stops. This leads to burn out not only from the donors but from the organizers who have to work harder for lower results.
I would prefer to just give the down and out some cash, rather than hire someone incompetent for a job, especially a structural and potentially dangerous one. How’s your liability insurance?
I’m curious what some of those items would fetch at an antiques dealer?
If the cause is just, and if an antiques dealer offers you enough, it might be an option to donate part of the profits to the cause without waiting for a fund raiser. I’m reading “awkward with a vague sense of guilt” in your post, and doing that might help. If I’m misreading, feel free to ignore this 🙂
Claire doesn’t need to write anything, as there are quite enough “how to organize” manuals available, and lots of practical opportunities for learning and apprenticeship.
Unfortunately there are also people who think such events just fall together, and that it’s tacky to worry about all that organization/planning/PR stuff, and that selling is particularly gross. They won’t read the manuals that are available, since they already know everything.
Remember Occupy Wall Street, the folks who couldn’t manage a decent campsite but wanted to tell us how to run the whole world?
Last week I interviewed a guy who chaired a committee that raised $8,500,000 in a county of 50,000 people, for our medical center. Of course, he’s a car salesman (literally) and knows his stuff.
I, on the other hand, totally suck at selling. So when Friends of NRA rolls around I get to be treasurer, laborer, peon, and other backstage stuff while the others stand out front.
hard heads or soft hearts
It ain’t a zero-sum game.
As for your first question: IMHO “I love people so much I’m going to have the government take your stuff and give it to those I think need it even if they don’t want it because all of you are too stupid to live without my superior wisdom,” is not a sign of a warm heart.
Oddly enough, hiring inept people because you feel sorry for them is a politically correct thing to do. My neighbor has employed numerous handymen somewhat ” in recovery”. The jobs take longer because people don’t show up, do a substandard job, etc. whenever I ask her for the name of a tradesman for something she’s had done she always adds, “well, maybe you shouldn’t hire him because …” Rand is probably correct on this one.
Can the White House be far behind? I’m told we still need that essential First Woman President . . .
I suspect Claire’s response to this is on the order of Ayn Rand’s (paraphrasing from memory): I trust you don’t hate me enough to wish such a thing upon me.
No, Claire, you are not, in any way shape or form, a cold-hearted anything… http://www.spacewesterns.com/articles/105/
Brian Terry – Damn…THAT was a stirring and memorable story.
“…the forces that killed with neither hatred nor malice.”
They are all around us, even here on Earth.
“I didn’t do anything to die for… I didn’t do anything…”
And often “I didn’t do anything” is the reason we die.
Brian Terry — I remember that story from childhood! It made a huge impression on me then and is a good reminder now.
Thanks for that, Brian, also have never forgot that story but not read it for decades.
I’ve been in a sort of similar situation that you now have with Monk. What a friend had to point out to me is that the other person, i.e., Monk, has a vested interest in getting the would be minion extra employment. Monk would get the increased prestige, the feel goods, the brownie points, and the attaboys on your dollar, which places his interests directly in opposition to yours. He also sounds like the useful idiot who would fall for the socialist line.
Regarding the charity sale items, my thinking is very simplistic. You did nothing dishonest and they fell to you. If you like them, I believe you should keep them. You’re hardly a high roller (I’m not throwing stones) who can afford to urinate things away.
If you choose to help the charity in some way, that’s honorable and sensible so long the emotional and financial cost to you is not onerous. Understand, though, that you may not be able to change anything. Those already involved have their own agendas, for which the innocent have just paid their own considerable financial cost. A friend was heavily involved, for quite a while, with the local chapter of Pilot International http://www.pilotinternational.org/ even serving on the board and I believe president for a time. She finally quit because the unabated backbiting was outrageous. A lot of these people simply serve their own interests while putting on the pretense of serving others, particularly when they can do it with somebody else’s money.
That was one of the stories that helped me get through Junior High.
Later on, one of my college profs used it to start a discussion in a philosophy class.
There were a couple of kids who thought the pilot was wrong in jettisoning the girl, because it was murder. It would be better that seven people die “naturally” than that he would kill one. And besides, something might happen to make everything okay.
It was my second trip through college, for my masters, and I had already been to Vietnam. Several students agreed when I said the pilot should have shot her, instead of letting her go through explosive decompression. Not that anyone was sure they could have done so. Me included.
It was one of the more interesting classes.
I have been involved for a long time in the non-profit, charitable world, and I agree, that hard heads are usually lacking and sorely needed.
My fundraising-done-badly horror story involved a benefit concert for a cause that shall remain nameless. The committee that organized it decided it needed a name (and of course, didn’t see a need to consult me, as president of the organization it would benefit). They decided to call it Spring Prom (it was held in the spring). Which is about the worst possible name one could pick, I’m sure most people who saw a flier for it thought it was some high school thing and ignored it. The reason they called it that was “we never went to a prom.” From people in their 40s. Why weren’t they over that by then?
I had members call me asking if they needed to wear formal dress. NO!!!
Oh, and it gets better (actually worse). The organizers included some amateur (in all senses of the word) poets. Who used this concert as a forum to recite some of their “masterpieces.” Which were really, really bad, and were obscene at times at well.
Sitting there, I wish I had brought a paper bag to put over my head. No, on second thought, make it the plastic bag so I can suffocate and die. I was already dying from embarrassment.
Oh, and the concert didn’t bring in much money. What a surprise, right?
Really, this is true. It happened. You can’t make this stuff up. I have plenty of other horror stories from the non-profit world, too. Of course, the people with the soft hearts and often, soft heads, think I’m the nasty SOB, because I actually like results instead of rhetoric.