On the perils of Efficiency
Ten friends and I are hoping to raise $37,500 by April 30 to support Lava Mae, an organization that provides hot showers and other services for the homeless in San Francisco. A recent census counted 7,500 homeless people in the city. Our goal represents one shower for each of the 7,500 individuals, and we will match every dollar that we raise.
We live in a world that places a high value on maximum productivity for minimal cost. I’m sure I’m partly saying this because I’m currently a teaching assistant for a lefty-ish class on contemporary political economy this semester, but these are not radical claims. We want to make sure we get the most bang for our buck, or that we aren’t missing out on other options when we make a certain purchase.
I don’t think there’s anything wrong with trying to make sure whatever limited resources I have are spent wisely. People should be more critical about where their money goes, after all. If I frivolously spend five more bucks on lunch than usual, that’s five bucks I won’t have later. It’s only logical to make sure there is as little waste as possible.
Yet there is also something paralyzing about this attitude that, since getting married and having a kid, I’ve come to detest. I don't like it when I instinctively question whether or not money should be given to various organizations because it might be better utilized elsewhere. (This might be what you’re thinking as you’re reading this plug for Lava Mae!) For another, as my mentality has become more ordered around efficiency and productivity, I’ve fallen into the trap of seeing other people that way.
I would like to believe people have inherent worth, dignity, and value. There’s not much evidence I can demonstrate that backs up that belief, but I think it’s still worth putting out there. I think a results-oriented, rational-choice mentality can easily become, as in my case, an attitude that begins to value people based on what they can do, as opposed to who they are. The average individual suffering from chronic homelessness might not be able as able to contribute to society when compared to the typical taxpayer. Does that mean they are less worthy or deserving of help?
When the question is framed in that way, my instinctive answer is “of course they are! We are all equal!” Yet if I’m being truly honest with myself, I’ve often fallen into the trap of trying to figure out how best to use my finite energy and resources to extract the most out of my interactions with others. How does it benefit me to speak to this man on the street, or to make eye contact with this woman on the corner? Isn’t my time better spent doing something else? Can I redirect that effort in a more efficient way that might actually result in a tangible benefit to somebody, or that actually addresses the larger issues at stake?
For me, what’s even more striking thing is this: relatively speaking, individual cases of homelessness aren’t terribly difficult to fix. They’re still horrendously tragic, and challenging beyond description, but those particular cases pale in comparison to the systematic and social problem of homelessness, and it’s very hard to know what to do. I don’t think there’s a silver bullet, one-size-fits-all solution. To be honest, I don’t even know if what Lava Mae does puts a real dent in the issue here in San Francisco. What I do know is that waiting around for an easy answer, the best possible solution, or the most efficient fix, is definitely less effective than doing something.
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