The Rich Man's Burden

It's obvious that lots and lots of very wealthy people feel absolutely no guilt at all that they're drinking bubbly in mansions while billions worldwide, and at least (at least!) 40 million here in the U.S., live in poverty.

Should they feel guilty? Of course. But what about someone who's not filthy rich but is quite comfortable?

If you say yes, here's the follow-up: when can they stop feeling guilty? When they give away 10 percent of their income? More? When they sponsor a child? When they realize how lucky they are? Never? Like all emotions, guilt is complicated. Financial guilt (survivor's guilt?) is very complicated.

I've been thinking of this since reading an old post on Enough, a site devoted to the discussion of wealth redistribution, written by a lawyer named Dean Spade who all of a sudden found himself earning a lot of money. Spade, one of the founders of the site, grew up on welfare and in foster care.

"I went from making around $37,500-45,000/yr for most of my post-law school life to suddenly having a job that pays me $120,000/yr.  I feel so many things about this that it is hard to take it apart.  My foster mother cried when I told her, she was so happy.  I think about that moment a lot because it is so hard for me to feel that way about it," he writes.

He certainly feels an obligation to give back. Contradictory as it is, I'm inclined to give wealthy people who were once poor a pass when it comes to redistribution. They've lived it. Of course, these are the people most likely to want to invest in their communities.

In response to his new higher salary, this is what Spade did: he upped the contributions he had been making on a monthly basis to social justice organizations that were important to him. After the raise, he began donating $800 per month to the Sylvia Rivera Law Project, which he founded to benefit transgender and transsexual individuals. Five other organizations continued to get smaller monthly donations. On a less regular basis, Spade says he also contributes to another handful of groups.

He was also sending between $25 and $50 to prisoners he keeps as penpals and budgeting $50 to $100 for each community request. Additionally, he made it a personal habit to give money to every panhandler who asks him; he said he strives to give bills totaling $3 to $20 to pay for things that housing vouchers and food stamps don't cover.

He began doing all this while still paying off his student loans. And he still felt guilty. Not just because he felt he was not giving enough, but because he had to participate in an uber-capitalistic system he philosophically disagrees with that includes big banks, corporations and prisons that skim off cash sent for prisoners.

For what it's worth, Mr. Spade, I absolve you. I'm sorry that you and others like you (including some kindred spirits here on Poverty in America) feel an inordinate burden while others with even more feel none. Not everyone needs the same amount, so long as they have an equal opportunity to excel and so long as everyone gets, as your site is called, enough. You have plenty, and you are doing enough.

Photo credit: Alex E. Proimos