Last week, I wrote about the social dilemma of unemployment shame felt by young Chinese workers, the tough job market facing fresh graduates in the U.S., and the risk of structural displacement seasoned workers face due to agentic artificial intelligence. In so doing, I shared some of my own past experiences in struggling to find work, and how centering my identity on work adversely impacted me. Our psychological relationship with work is a powerful driver of our emotions and our sense of self – and not always in a positive way. Work can be unforgiving soil in which to plant the seeds of our identity. Given this, I offered the suggestion that we think about ourselves as more than just factors of production, that our sense of identity and worth be rooted in something “higher” than our work.
But what could this “higher” thing be?
One possibility is altruism. After all, work (compensated labor directed at productive activity) is not the sole measure of worth. People who do not (by that definition) work can also add value – and arguably greater value – to society. They do so though volunteer work, stay-at-home parenting, helping out in their community, being a good neighbor, and being a good friend. These are highly laudable things. To those who find it difficult to find satisfying work, or any work at all, could we offer the reassurance that by redirecting energies towards helping others, they will find themselves more whole, more fulfilled? Is it wiser to ground our identity in altruism rather than production?
(Naturally, things are rarely all or nothing, so a more practical formulation might be to assert that we should allocate our time between transactional (work) and charitable (altruistic) efforts, as inclination and opportunity allow, and that this form of identity-seeking is superior in the final analysis to one that is predominantly work-focused.)
Is this idea – that our self-worth is better grounded in altruisum – a valid point of view?
Some schools of modern psychology contend that no actions are truly altruistic – that we either attain some psychological reward, or achieve some sense of self-importance, or perhaps moral superiority, from engaging in such activities. As such, we cannot fairly assert that altruism contributes anything noble in the process of identity formation, since the helping of others is merely incidental to the ego-stroking of self. In an extreme form of this thinking, moms who love and make sacrifices for their children are acting in their self-interest (e.g. to enhance their status as competent mothers and/or to ensure the success of their progeny). It follows, therefore, that motherhood should not be ranked “higher” than, say, being a professional poker player. An adjacent, but distinct, refutation can be found in David Sloan Wilson’s book, “Does Altruism Exist?” He argues that true altruism is difficult to define or identify, and that rather, altruism is linked to the functional organization of groups – that altruism is not categorically good but rather a behavior that helps groups organize and succeed. Different line of reasoning, same conclusion: altruism is not a “higher” virtue (and therefore, does not offer a superior basis for identity development than work).
My guess is most people would reflexively reject these arguments. They might say, for example, that it goes too far to say that feeling good about helping others makes those actions self-centered: feeling good about oneself is not the same as selfish deprivation of others. And they might challenge the idea that altruism is merely a group dynamic. After all, sometimes we choose to try to help people even though we know the odds are impossibly long. Cost-benefit calculations rarely stand in the way of genuine promptings of the heart. I actually find these points of view persuasive. But still, I resist the idea of altruism being of sufficiently high virtue that it is the antidote to the tyranny of work.
Here’s why.
In “Work & Worry”, I offered the advice that “we should be wary of rooting our identity – of giving power – to things that can terrify us”. The reason I say this is that our trust – our faith, if you like – is a very precious thing. Even more, to entrust our identity – which amounts to a handing over of the very essence of who we are, to something, to anything, is an enormously consequential decision. And in this respect, even good works can be poor custodians of identity. Just as paid labor can feel transactional and reductive, charitable causes can be unkind masters. It is not uncommon for charity workers to exhaust themselves in the pursuit of better societal outcomes (just think about the physical and mental health of essential workers during the Covid pandemic). The work can become emotionally and physically draining in destructive ways. We can also be swept away by the injustice of outcomes: when our efforts to help others fail, we can take things personally, becoming embittered and cynical about “the system” or “how things are”.
Before “Does Altruism Exist?”, Wilson edited a collection of writings explaining how altruism does not always lead the giver to good places (“Pathological Altruism”, 2012). Unguided by something greater, the altruistic instinct can lead to outcomes such as co-dependency, suicide martyrdom, and genocide. This is because even in, or perhaps especially in, the context of service to others, when we tackle, as individuals, problems that are too great even for society to fix, we can become frustrated, angry and resentful, no different than at work. This makes us prone to extreme thinking, hero complex, and hatefulness disguised as purpose. Self-immolation, riots, looting, and climate vandalism are conspicious examples, but the psychological distortions that lead to such extreme behavior are not limited to those actors alone, and are probably more commonplace than we would care to admit. We need only search our own hearts.
Now, I am not saying don’t engage in doing good works because it’s difficult and can be unrewarding. Being difficult is what makes the good work worth doing, and the sacrifices one makes truly are honorable and worthy of praise. I am simply saying that altruism can enslave the soul as much as paid work can. Something else – something of even greater power – is needed to combat the tyrannical nature of both work and charity. Something else needs to govern our hearts and to shape our identity.
So where does that leave us?
I’ll give it a go next week.
Grace and peace, J
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I appreciated your thoughtful exploration of the pleasures inherent in work and the multifaceted rewards it offers. Your essay eloquently captures how work, when it aligns with our passions and values, transcends the traditional view of mere financial gain. I found your discussion of intrinsic versus extrinsic motivation particularly resonant, as it underscores that the true rewards of our professional endeavours are often found in the satisfaction of creative expression, personal growth, and collaborative success.
Your insight that work can serve as a platform for developing one’s identity and building meaningful relationships is, to me, both inspiring and timely. In an era when many seek purpose alongside profit, the idea that our work environments can cultivate creativity, resilience, and a deep sense of fulfilment offers a refreshing counterpoint to the conventional narrative of work as solely transactional. I especially appreciated your nuanced view on how challenges, far from being mere obstacles, are opportunities for learning and innovation—experiences that enrich our sense of achievement and drive our professional progress.
In my own journey, I have witnessed first-hand how purposeful work can act as a transformative force, nurturing not only technical skills but also empathy, leadership, and a commitment to community. The rewards of fulfilling work are evident not only in tangible outcomes, such as career milestones or financial stability, but also in the enhanced quality of our personal lives—a balance I believe is essential for sustained success and well-being.
Thank you for prompting such reflection. Your essay reaffirms the vital role of work as a source of both pleasure and personal reward, reminding us that when work is imbued with meaning, its benefits extend far beyond the pay check