On altruism

Involuntary

BY SAROJA SRINIVASAN

Atruism is the capacity to project oneself in to a situation and act in a considerate way to alleviate another’s distress. It requires one to be unselfish, caring and helpful, and think deeply about the situation at hand. Two Sanskrit terms come to mind here: daya and dana Daya refers to compassion at a high level, and dana translates as sincere giving of even something which one holds precious. The most beautiful example of the two concepts together comes from an Upanishad story in which the young boy Nachiketa suggests to his father to give him as an offering, rather than the sick and frail cattle that his father was about to. A true test for the king.

We often see acts of kindness when we go about our daily life –a young woman helping an older one climb up the stairs struggling with heavy shopping bags, or a stroller being lifted up or off a difficult place. Is often good enough? How many times have you seen such a scene and offered to help?

These days more often than not most people hold back rather than get ‘involved’. We hear of an unconnected bystander getting hurt trying to help an innocent victim in a skirmish. This then becomes the excuse for ‘not to get involved when it is not our business’. Does this fear of being hurt stop people from taking the risk, or do we make the excuse that we don’t want to get involved?

If, just for a moment, we put ourselves in the position of the person in the incident, wouldn’t we expect or at least like others to help, to get involved? Of course we would. Why then do we not reciprocate and show the same concern?

Recently I read a survey of why people do not offer help and choose to be bystanders. Interestingly, many answered that if there were others nearby they felt ‘someone else will help, and so didn’t feel the need to do so themselves’; but some responded that they would help if they were the only one there.

This reminds me of a story many of us have heard. A king in ancient India wanted to test his peoples’ sense of fairness and sincerity in anonymous alms-giving. He requested his subjects to pour half a litre of milk into a large cauldron left at the front gates of the palace at night when no-one was watching. In the morning what he found was the huge cauldron full of water – each of his subjects had thought, ‘Someone else will pour the milk, and so I don’t need to…’ So much for alms-giving without recognition!

Perhaps we do not need a serious incident to show our thoughtfulness. It is the common everyday thoughtful acts that convey our care for fellow living beings. Modern society prides itself on the concern it shows across species. The love and care bestowed on pets and the great lengths we go to protect endangered species is really commendable. Yet, how often do we show the same sentiments towards our fellow humans? We allay our guilt by donating to charities as a gesture of goodwill. Most people seem to assume that a poor or destitute person is so by choice, hence one does need to feel obliged to show any kindness. More often than not it is the contrary – no one chooses to be poor. Perhaps in affluent countries many are homeless due to past misadventures. Certainly in developing countries it is not by choice. Factors such as economics, lack of opportunities and in many instances, circumstances of birth have dictated their lot in life. Surely none of us had a choice as to where and how and when we would be born – how then can we hold it against those who are less privileged?

Compassion and altruism have to be cultivated from a young age. We need to teach our youngsters to be altruistic within the family to start with, to educate them about the hardships many face, and how one needs to show in our behaviour that we care and want to be of help.

On one of my trips to India

I was particularly impressed by a young extended family member who celebrated his 21st birthday by accompanying his mother to serve lunch to students in an underprivileged school in the city. How often do we perform such acts of altruism and compassion? My admiration doubled when I realised he was a student of medicine - what a fantastic vocation he had chosen. I could just see him turn down offers to ‘go overseas’ and choose instead to stay in India and work in a rural setting trying to do what he could with the health initiatives.