I read an interesting piece this morning. The author, Scott Gilmore, argues against the ALS fanaticism. He writes that we should think of 3 questions when deciding where to donate:
1) Where is the greatest need?
2) Where will my dollars have the greatest influence?
3) What is the most urgent problem?
On first blush, this all sounds super robotic and utilitarian. Humans don't work this way! We are moved by culture and emotions. And these things matter...don't they?
Usually I'd be critical of pieces like the one that Gilmore wrote. It's the same kind of logic that policymakers use when justifying cutting arts programs so that school districts can continue funding math and science. How can we quantify the benefit that children receive from learning how to read and play music? Anyways, I digress.
But, as I thought longer and harder about the piece, I began to see his point. In a resource-scarce world, we ought to be more calculating and utilitarian about our giving--particularly when it comes to saving lives.
If we place ALS in a larger context, we see that it's not among the top-10 leading causes of death in the US. In 2010, here were the top-10 and their death counts: 1) Heart Disease (596, 577), 2) Cancer (576,691), Chronic lower respiratory diseases (142, 943), 4) stroke (128,932), 5) accidents (126,438), 6) Alzehemier's disease (84,974), 7) Diabetes (73, 831), 8) Influenza and Pneumonia (53,826), Nephritis (45,591), 10) Suicide (39,518). ALS is so rare, in fact, that it's seen as an "orphan disease" in the US.
Compare this now to some striking figures that Gilmore gives us to chew on: In 2013, ALS killed 6,849 people in the US and attracted $23 million for research (a ratio of $3,382 per death); in the same year, heart disease killed 596,577 people, but only raised $54 million for research (a sad ratio of $90 per death). These comparisons raise some interesting moral questions about how to allocate funds for the dying. I won't pretend to know the answers, but at some level, if we want to think responsibly about it, need, influence, and urgency of problem are all important gauges of where we should spend our money.
In many ways, the fanaticism around ALS reminds me of the fanaticism around social movements to ban assault weapons and regulate magazine sizes of rifles. In charged historical moments, these movements make us feel good. We get the satisfaction of linking ourselves to something that is politically popular. For brief moments, we feel connected to one another. We gain a sense of efficacy and feel that we might be helping to make the world a better place. But, when we peel ourselves away from online hoopla and media soundbites, we realize that what's popular and what's efficacious are often two different things. Historically, assault weapon bans have done very little to curb gun deaths in the US (for more on this, read the excellent book "Reducing Gun Violence in America").
In the end, I don't think the enthusiasm around the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge is all bad. This is where I differ from Gilmore and other more critical voices. If there's a silver lining in all of this (aside from the extra funding to help those suffering with ALS), it's in showing that human beings are capable of rallying together and showing compassion for others in need. I can't help but wonder, though, if this enthusiasm and our hard earned dollars might be better spent toward issues that are more pressing and devastating on a global scale?
1) Where is the greatest need?
2) Where will my dollars have the greatest influence?
3) What is the most urgent problem?
On first blush, this all sounds super robotic and utilitarian. Humans don't work this way! We are moved by culture and emotions. And these things matter...don't they?
Usually I'd be critical of pieces like the one that Gilmore wrote. It's the same kind of logic that policymakers use when justifying cutting arts programs so that school districts can continue funding math and science. How can we quantify the benefit that children receive from learning how to read and play music? Anyways, I digress.
But, as I thought longer and harder about the piece, I began to see his point. In a resource-scarce world, we ought to be more calculating and utilitarian about our giving--particularly when it comes to saving lives.
If we place ALS in a larger context, we see that it's not among the top-10 leading causes of death in the US. In 2010, here were the top-10 and their death counts: 1) Heart Disease (596, 577), 2) Cancer (576,691), Chronic lower respiratory diseases (142, 943), 4) stroke (128,932), 5) accidents (126,438), 6) Alzehemier's disease (84,974), 7) Diabetes (73, 831), 8) Influenza and Pneumonia (53,826), Nephritis (45,591), 10) Suicide (39,518). ALS is so rare, in fact, that it's seen as an "orphan disease" in the US.
Compare this now to some striking figures that Gilmore gives us to chew on: In 2013, ALS killed 6,849 people in the US and attracted $23 million for research (a ratio of $3,382 per death); in the same year, heart disease killed 596,577 people, but only raised $54 million for research (a sad ratio of $90 per death). These comparisons raise some interesting moral questions about how to allocate funds for the dying. I won't pretend to know the answers, but at some level, if we want to think responsibly about it, need, influence, and urgency of problem are all important gauges of where we should spend our money.
In many ways, the fanaticism around ALS reminds me of the fanaticism around social movements to ban assault weapons and regulate magazine sizes of rifles. In charged historical moments, these movements make us feel good. We get the satisfaction of linking ourselves to something that is politically popular. For brief moments, we feel connected to one another. We gain a sense of efficacy and feel that we might be helping to make the world a better place. But, when we peel ourselves away from online hoopla and media soundbites, we realize that what's popular and what's efficacious are often two different things. Historically, assault weapon bans have done very little to curb gun deaths in the US (for more on this, read the excellent book "Reducing Gun Violence in America").
In the end, I don't think the enthusiasm around the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge is all bad. This is where I differ from Gilmore and other more critical voices. If there's a silver lining in all of this (aside from the extra funding to help those suffering with ALS), it's in showing that human beings are capable of rallying together and showing compassion for others in need. I can't help but wonder, though, if this enthusiasm and our hard earned dollars might be better spent toward issues that are more pressing and devastating on a global scale?
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