When generosity isn’t free

A lot of interesting research coming out of behavioral studies today from Slate, about moral sainthood and its costs:

But new research by Nina Mazar and Chen-Bo Zhong at the University of Toronto levels an even graver charge: that virtuous shopping can actually lead to immoral behavior. In their study, subjects who made simulated eco-friendly purchases ended up less likely to exhibit altruism in a laboratory game and more likely to cheat and steal.

In an experiment, participants were randomly assigned to select items they wanted to buy in one of two online stores. One store sold predominantly green products, the other mostly conventional items. Then, in a supposedly unrelated game, all of the participants were allocated $6, to share as they saw fit with an anonymous (and unbeknownst to them, imaginary) recipient. Subjects who had chosen items from the green store coughed up less money, on average, than their counterparts. In a second experiment, participants were again assigned to shop in either a green or conventional store. Then they performed a computer task that involved earning small sums of cash. The setup offered the opportunity to cheat and steal with impunity. The eco-shoppers were more likely to do both.

It would be foolish to draw conclusions about the real world from just one paper and from such an artificial scenario. But the findings add to a growing body of research into a phenomenon known among social psychologists as “moral credentials” or “moral licensing.” Historically, psychologists viewed moral development as a steady progression toward more sophisticated decision-making. But an emerging school of thought stresses the capriciousness of moral responses. Several studies propose that the state of our self-image can directly influence our choices from moment to moment. When people have the chance to demonstrate their goodness, even in the most token of ways, they then feel free to relax their ethical standards.

In 2001, Benoit Monin and Dale Miller of Princeton published a pioneering study of this licensing tendency. The study investigated whether showing a lack of bias in one situation would free subjects to express prejudice later on. They found that people who had designated a woman as the best candidate for a gender-neutral job were then more likely to recommend a man for a stereotypically masculine job. Another experiment yielded similar results with regard to race.

Newer work has focused on morality more broadly. Earlier this year, researchers at Northwestern reported that subjects who wrote self-flattering stories later pledged to give less money to charity than those who wrote stories that were self-critical or about someone else. In another recent study, participants who recalled their own righteous deeds were less inclined to donate blood, volunteer, or engage in other “prosocial” acts. They were also more likely to cheat on a math assignment.

Why might this happen? According to Monin, now a professor at Stanford, there are two theories. One is that when we’ve established our rectitude, we interpret ensuing behavior in a different light: I just proved I’m a good person, so what I’m doing now must be okay. This reasoning, of course, works best in ambiguous situations, not with egregious sins. For example, in Monin’s experiments, it seems plausible that after participants have displayed a lack of prejudice, they see their next judgment call as based on sound analysis.

Another, potentially overlapping theory holds that we have a kind of subconscious moral accounting system. We like to think of ourselves as good guys, but sainthood has costs. So when we have done our mitzvah for the day, we cut ourselves some slack. In this model, “moral credits” are a kind of currency we accrue and spend.

I asked several experts on moral licensing how to avoid that fate. The most obvious advice was that being conscious of this potential reaction allows me to be on guard against it. They also pointed out that the licensing effect has a flip side. Some of the studies revealed an impulse for “moral cleansing”: When our moral self-image is threatened, we want to restore it—to add moral credits to the account. Research indicates that writing about our negative traits, or recalling our own sketchy behavior, prompts a surge of virtue. Reminding people of ethical ideals or of other people’s probity seems to have a similar effect. So in the wake of a noble act, we can try to curb self-satisfaction by thinking back on past transgressions or, more pleasantly, contemplating Gandhi or a personal role model.

Another strategy is to make worthy actions habitual. When volunteering at the soup kitchen—or turning off unused lights—becomes routine, you’ll stop basking in that halo every time. Cultural norms are also key. If everyone is driving a Prius and taking the stairs, I won’t feel so smug about doing the same. Now, for instance, I don’t feel heroic when I sort the paper and plastics and take the blue bin out to the curb. That’s just what people in my neighborhood do on Monday nights.

The interesting point that I walked away with is that the worst type of help is from the self-righteous, from people who consider themselves saints. I have found in my life that the meanest and cruelest actions come from people that think the most highly of their aid. The worst boyfriends are the ones who consider it a gift that they’re dating a girl and feel that they’re justified in taking the gift away, sometimes in brutal fashion. The pickiest friends always invoke their saintly friendship at any slight, as though others owe them something for that.

What’s really fascinating is that a person can turn a specific action into general morality. That if a person buys a Prius, they feel justified driving like an asshole or even worse, think they’re so much better than everyone else that they deserve a greater share of the road.

I also found the solutions to be intriguing. Maybe I should be confessing to more of my sins on the blog or in my private journal. Even though I don’t think of myself as much of a good person; at this point, if there’s a Heaven, I’m banking on repentance at the last possible moment. Mind you, I’m pretty sure I’m not a BAD person. At least, if I were a baddie, I’d probably just be a faceless thug that Aragorn unceremoniously kicks in the face while stealing his horse. Or in the movie Taken, I’m baddie #4 that Liam Neeson throws into the river – two days later, I find out he shot my employer and go back to the employment agency to see if any other bad guys need more anonymous henchmen.

On a random tangent, I’d like to write a short story about the life of a thug who goes through like eight employers in Lord of the Rings, and all of his duties are ended by Legolas. He starts off working in the Mines of Moria, dragging a reluctant giant blue cave troll around. They attack the fellowship of the ring and Legolas kills the cave troll by shooting about eight arrows in it, including three in its mouth. He gets a new job cooking for the Uruk-hai, but doesn’t like that they goddamn run everywhere. He’s just minding his own business when Legolas comes out of nowhere and kicks him in the face on his way to killing about twelve of his comrades. From there, he gets conscripted into the army to attack Helms Deep, where Legolas skateboards a shield into his testicles. Trying to escape, our thug then decides to move to Mordor, where he is again conscripted into the army since he has experience with large beasts. He leads an elephant team but is thrown off by Legolas again, who kills the elephant by shooting arrows into each of the poor creature’s eyes and six arrows into its mouth. He’s walking back home only to find the human army led by Aragorn is at the border gate, leading a fresh charge. He tries to anonymously flee through the gate when Legolas flying side kicks him in the back of the neck, then stands on him while shooting another twenty-eight dudes, counting aloud and joking to Gimli the whole time.

When Legolas gets off him, he looks down and says “Haven’t I seen you somewhere?”, then stomps on his face and runs away to kill more orcs.