Jack, a renowned photographer, spends his weekdays traveling between Milan, Paris, and New York, capturing stunning fashion images for prominent magazines. His schedule is packed with glamorous assignments, and his pay is substantial—$500 per hour. His world is filled with high-profile models, chic designs, and impeccable lighting. He revels in his profession’s social recognition, often boasting to friends, “What I have in front of my lens looks a lot better than any banker.” His life seems enviable, a dream come true for many. However, as the weeks pass, Jack feels disconnected from the fashion world. The glamour that once thrilled him now feels hollow. The industry’s selfishness seems to have seeped into his bones. He finds himself lying in bed, yearning for something more meaningful. He craves selflessness, the chance to make a real contribution to the world, no matter how small.
One fateful day, Jack’s phone rings. Patrick, his old college classmate and the local bird club president. “We’re having our annual birdhouse drive next Saturday,” Patrick says. “We’re looking for volunteers to help us build birdhouses for endangered species. We meet at 8 in the morning, and we should be done by noon. Do you have time to join us?”
For someone seeking meaning in a world of shallow pursuits, Jack faces a dilemma. Should he contribute to the bird club’s noble cause? On the surface, volunteering seems like the right thing to do. But is it truly the most effective way to make a difference? And if Jack is serious about creating a better world, what would his response be?
The Economics of Volunteering
When we break down Jack’s decision through the lens of economics, we should first consider the concept of opportunity cost—the potential benefits he forgoes by choosing one option over another. Jack’s rate of $500 per hour as a photographer reflects not only the market demand for his work but also the value of his time in relation to his skill set and experience. In comparison, a carpenter earns $50 per hour for skilled labor that requires years of training and expertise. This stark difference in hourly rates lays the foundation for understanding why Jack’s decision to volunteer to build birdhouses could be counterproductive.
By spending four hours building birdhouses—hours in which he could have earned $2,000 working as a photographer—Jack would be forgoing a substantial income. If he hired a professional carpenter for $300 (the equivalent of six hours of labor), he would still have $1,700 left, which he could donate to the bird club. This way, Jack’s money goes directly toward the cause, helping the club with more resources and ensuring that skilled tradespeople get paid for their work.
Economists call this the principle of comparative advantage: the idea that people or businesses should focus on what they do best. Jack excels at photography, and it’s far more efficient for him to work longer hours doing what he’s best at and then allocate some of his earnings toward causes he cares about. The carpenter, in turn, has a comparative advantage in carpentry. By leveraging these comparative advantages, Jack and the carpenter are optimizing their time and energy to produce the best possible outcome for the bird club.
Moreover, if Jack chooses to volunteer, he’s essentially substituting high-value work for low-value labor. This diminishes the potential effectiveness of his contribution. While Jack’s intention might be noble, his decision to build birdhouses himself does not align with his most effective use of time or skills. It’s important to understand that doing something to feel good doesn’t always yield the best results.
The True Value of Volunteering
Volunteering is often romanticized as pure selflessness, yet the reality is more complicated. While many volunteers are motivated by a genuine desire to help, the personal satisfaction they gain from giving their time—whether it’s the joy of learning new skills, the satisfaction of contributing to a cause, or the networking opportunities it provides—raises questions about the true value of volunteering.
Jack’s situation is a perfect example of this complexity. While he may feel pride or purpose in helping the bird club, his physical labor doesn’t necessarily serve the cause most effectively. Building birdhouses for endangered species sounds like a worthy cause, but Jack’s work is unlikely to match the quality of a professional carpenter. Jack’s inexperience might even compromise the quality of the birdhouses.
The value of volunteering should be viewed in terms of its effectiveness. It’s not just about the act of giving—it’s about how much good it achieves. In Jack’s case, a better alternative would be for him to work additional hours as a photographer, donate his earnings, and let a skilled carpenter do the work. His contribution would be financially more substantial and have a far greater impact on the cause, allowing the bird club to not only benefit from the financial support but also receive birdhouses of superior quality.
Furthermore, volunteering can sometimes be more about the volunteer than the cause. At the same time, Jack might genuinely care about the endangered species but also want to fill an emotional void or prove his worth. This is not to say his contribution lacks value, but it underscores the importance of understanding the difference between altruistic and self-interested motives. True altruism, by definition, should be free from any expectation of personal gain. Jack’s actions—however well-intentioned—could be motivated by a desire to feel good about himself or to fulfill a need for social approval, and those motives should be acknowledged as part of the equation.
Is Altruism an Illusion?
The philosophical question of whether true altruism exists has been debated for centuries. The idea that we can act purely out of concern for others without any self-interest involved is difficult to reconcile with human nature. When we volunteer, even with the best intentions, we often experience emotional or psychological rewards—feelings of happiness, fulfillment, or even a sense of moral superiority. These are real benefits, yet they complicate the idea of pure selflessness.
Jack, for example, may feel a sense of satisfaction from volunteering to build birdhouses. He may tell himself that he is helping the birds, but he is also helping himself by experiencing the joy of doing something good and feeling like he is making a difference in the world. And while this emotional benefit may not diminish the value of his contribution, it does raise questions about whether he is truly acting selflessly. As philosopher Richard Dawkins suggests in his concept of the “selfish gene,” even our most generous actions can ultimately serve our survival or personal well-being.
Altruism, then, is a nuanced concept. It’s not always clear-cut. While Jack’s work on the birdhouses may benefit the birds, it also benefits Jack by making him feel more connected to a greater cause. His volunteering is intertwined with personal gain—the satisfaction of helping or the opportunity to be part of something larger than himself. This isn’t to say that volunteering is inherently wrong, but it challenges the notion of altruism as a purely selfless endeavor.
In a broader sense, many volunteers are engaging in what could be called personal happiness management. They derive a sense of fulfillment from their actions, and this psychological reward, in turn, encourages them to continue volunteering. This raises the question: Can we truly claim to act selflessly if we get something out of our acts of kindness? The answer, perhaps, is no—but it also doesn’t mean that these acts lack value. Helping others, even when there is some personal gain involved, is still an important and valuable pursuit.
The Role of Celebrity Altruism
When celebrities engage in volunteer work, their actions take on a completely different significance. Unlike Jack, their presence brings an inherent value to the situation: publicity. When someone like Bono or Kate Winslet participates in charity work—building birdhouses, aiding in disaster relief, or raising awareness for a particular cause—they generate media coverage and public interest. Their involvement catalyzes awareness, inspiring others to donate, volunteer, or take action in some way.
Celebrities’ participation becomes a form of advocacy that extends far beyond their physical labor. It’s a powerful tool for promoting causes and creating a ripple effect that can lead to real change. Their visibility can help raise millions of dollars, recruit thousands of volunteers, and galvanize public support in ways that someone like Jack, whose name doesn’t carry the same weight, cannot.
This is where Jack’s participation in the birdhouse drive becomes questionable. While his intentions are noble, his involvement is unlikely to significantly impact the bird club or its mission. If Jack were famous—if his presence alone could draw attention to the cause—his decision to volunteer might be more justifiable. But without that public platform, his time and energy could be better spent in other ways. It’s not that Jack’s contribution would be worthless, but it wouldn’t have the same far-reaching impact as that of a celebrity.
For most of us, including Jack, the most effective form of contribution is often through financial means or the use of one’s professional skills. Celebrities, on the other hand, have the power to leverage their fame to amplify the cause they are supporting. They can turn their involvement into a movement, so their volunteer work transcends the usual model of giving.
The Practicality of Giving
At the heart of volunteer folly is recognizing that the most effective contributions are not always the most visible ones. It’s easy to assume that hands-on work, like building birdhouses or cleaning beaches, is the best way to make a difference, but this isn’t always true. For many, the most impactful way to contribute is to recognize the value of their time and use their resources to support others better equipped to handle specific tasks.
Jack’s decision to volunteer could be seen as an emotional reaction to the emptiness he feels in his glamorous yet shallow career. However, the most practical way for Jack to make a real difference is to use his professional skills and resources. By focusing on what he does best—photography—and donating the money he earns to causes he cares about, Jack would have a much greater impact than if he showed up with a hammer and saw.
It’s important to understand that volunteering doesn’t always mean physically doing the work. Sometimes, it’s about recognizing how your skills and resources can be used more effectively. For Jack, the better contribution is not about proving his worth through physical labor but about using his position, earnings, and network to make a real and lasting impact. In the end, effective giving isn’t about doing it all yourself—it’s about knowing where your time and effort can be best directed for the greatest good.
Conclusion: The Practicality of Giving
Ultimately, Jack’s decision to volunteer may be driven by his desire to feel good about himself. However, the most effective way to make a difference often lies in smart, well-informed contributions when considering the broader impact. For most of us, this means focusing on what we do best and leveraging our resources to support those equipped to handle specific tasks. After all, true selflessness may not lie in the act itself but in knowing when and how to contribute in ways that truly benefit others.
This article is part of The Art of Thinking Clearly Series based on Rolf Dobelli’s book.