I found out about a talk by Nicholas Kristof, a New York Times columnist and two-time Pulitzer Prize winner, from a friend last week. I decided to attend.
The gist of his talk could be described as a summary of his recent columns[1]: the disproportionate suffering of the female race in the developing world. The overarching theme was that we can empower change in developing nations most effectively by educating these women; educating women not only saves the women themselves, but enriches and elevates the society and country as a whole.
Kristof was a very good speaker, and an entertaining one at that (though another friend who attended explained that most of his anecdotes could be found in his columns).
During the Q&A session, there were three things that caught my attention and made me think more critically than the talk itself. There's really no point in regurgitating the content of his talk, since you can just read his columns yourself. So instead, I'll offer my thoughts on some of the things he mentioned in the Q&A session.
Is Banking Bad?
Kristof answered a question regarding his column by stating that banking by nature is not bad, and that if the students in the audience are going to go into banking, they will hopefully maintain their morals and ideals throughout their careers.
This reminded me of two things.
(1) "Guns don't kill, people kill!" or whatever NRA people like to say.
(2) My friend told me a few months ago that, "If you want to change the way banks do business, you don't Occupy Wall Street. You become an insider in the system and change it from within from a position of power."
The Suffering of One
In writing columns and shedding light on issues, the way in which the story is presented is of utmost importance. You have to capture the attention of the reader and make him care about the issue in 700 words.
Kristof asserted that people don't care about the suffering of 700,000 people; but they do care about the suffering of 1 particular person.
I talked this over with a friend afterwards, and she explained that covering the suffering of 700,000 people sacrifices depth for breadth; meanwhile, covering 1 particular person sacrifices breadth for depth.
It seems to me that this is because we naturally have a greater interest in subjects that we can personally relate to. The suffering of 700,000 people is something that most of haven't seen with our own eyes, and can't envision. However, with respect to the suffering of one person, we can easily superimpose ourselves or someone close to us in the given situation, and feel empathy for the depicted persona.
The Chosen Mission
Kristof was questioned why we should focus on international issues when we have plenty of suffering and poverty domestically. He seemed to choose his words carefully, making sure to state that yes, both domestic and international suffering needs to be addressed, but that things should not be divided with country lines, and that the level of suffering is much greater in these developing countries; he asserted that by focusing on the places with the greatest degree of suffering, we can make the greatest impact.
So Kristof (albeit in a Q&A setting where a quick response is required), asserted that the degree of suffering should be the measure by which we choose what social mission to choose; thus we should focus on international issues rather than our domestic ones.
But honestly, I think his logic is unsound at best. If the impact of the cause is the barometer by which we choose our mission, then we would cease focusing on international humanitarian issues once an even greater cause emerged. And lo and behold, we already have a greater issue at hand today in the form of sustainability. If saving millions of people from abject poverty, starvation, and sexual slavery take precedence over the relatively minor suffering of lower class Americans, then surely the suffering of the Earth and its currently inevitable demise should take precedence over any humanitarian matters shouldn't it?
I hope that Kristof was fully aware of the hole in his logic, but simply chose to use it for its brevity and straightforwardness.
It should be pretty obvious that while the Earth does need a helping hand, so do the starving children in Kenya, and so too do the American families in welfare. If all of these causes rightfully deserve to be addressed, then what is the metric by which we should choose "our calling"?
I've thought about this for quite some time, and the closest thing I have to "an answer", is that there are three axes at work here. The first is the magnitude of the cause (how big of an impact we have on the world). The second is how close the cause is to your heart and mind (how much we have personally seen and experienced the suffering). The third is the fulfillment and psychological reward the cause gives you (how happy you'd be if you managed a breakthrough).
It seems to me that there is no single simple measure by which we can choose what to work on in this regard. Instead, we must gauge and balance these three factors within ourselves, and convince ourselves that because reasons ABC, and beacuse I we want to see result DEF, we are going to devote our time and efforrts to cause XYZ.
[1] Here are some pertinent columns by him:
The Face of Modern Slavery
Fighting Back One Brothel Raid at a Time
Girls Just Want to Go to School
Crossposted from my main blog