Societal Schadenfreude
The system needs you to hate others
What makes someone deserving of help? Either from you or the system in place to provide that help. What type of cardboard sign motivates you to reach into your pocket or wallet for someone? In what key do your heartstrings play? How does your answer align with what beliefs our societal structures benefit from? How conscious are your decisions to help?
Current Day Questions
A situation online brought these questions to my mind a couple of months ago. A TikTok video went viral in February of a young woman helping out an unhoused man with cancer. A woman vlogging was asked by an unhoused man for a cup of tea. Following this video, a GoFundMe campaign for the man raised over $400,000 dollars. Heartwarming on the surface, no? Well, shortly after the widespread attention from TikTok, a news channel local to the woman who set up the donation fund, released a media segment focusing on the man’s previous convictions of assault. One of the survivors of the crimes was interviewed in this segment, and video evidence of the assault was included. Allegedly, GoFundMe refused to release the money in the account because it had not been verified that the man was the direct recipient of the campaign’s fund, and then a legal battle began.
I am not here to arbiter justice or sway your mind on the ethics of this complicated vignette. I do think it raises an interesting discussion about how we view what other people deserve. We can never know the motivations or intentions of people or the structures we build, but we can consider their impacts and the beliefs they represent.
Deserving and Underserving Poor
The history of social welfare in the United States has been fraught with attempts to understand and resolve poverty and social issues, with many “resolutions” having collateral damages as large as the original ills. The origins of charity, welfare, and policy regarding poverty are inextricable from morality. Although entire courses can be taught on this history alone, I want to quickly detail the main ideology that has run through the course of every iteration.
The deserving or undeserving poor dichotomy began in England but has permeated social welfare views and practices in the United States. It was codified in England through the multiple Elizabethan Poor Laws from 1565 through 1834 the mentality (and legal notion) was that there were “deserving” poor were those who had no personal fault in their perceived failings financially and socially. However, there were also the “undeserving” poor who were deemed able to work but instead begged or stole. Below is an image of “The New Poor Law poster 1837” from the National Archives.
By the amendments in 1834, people in poverty could only receive help through being assigned jobs in workhouses where the conditions were as horrendous as you probably expect, even for children and the elderly.
These concepts were not contained in a specific region or time period. The view of morality as the basis of poverty spread even into the early social work movements in “friendly visitors” who helped the poor through “moral persuasion.” Theories of “Social Darwinism” dominated and moved forward into the strongly bastioned history of eugenics in the U.S. Even affirmative action movements can be connected to this paradigm of deserving and undeserving poor, which is often racialized. These concepts have not disappeared and can be seen even in modern acts of sterilization of incarcerated people. Although the names of the frameworks we use to describe poverty have changed over time, they still have underpinnings of morality as a basis for who deserves care.
Currently, the main theories of poverty can be grouped into two general categories: individualistic and structural. One stipulates that poverty results from individual failings or circumstances, while the other points to structural failings as the cause of poverty as a phenomenon for many. We’ve removed the explicit moral judgment from “individual failings,” but have we removed it from our hearts and minds?
Solving Poverty All By Yourself
When we believe poverty is a failing on the individual, we also assume that the system is just, fair, and equitable. This means that when someone wants to reduce the poverty they see around them, the responsibility is placed on them individually as well. If you see someone struggling? Well, the system, and many of the people in it, believe that it is their own fault. So if you want to do something about it, you alone must do something.
The TikTok that spurred controversy (and this Substack) is a well-intended effort of one individual to try to help another person who is struggling. This video is one of many in a genre that I am calling “Etho-Content.” You probably know the prototype: a TikToker meets someone unhoused and treats them to groceries, a hotel room, and shares part of their life story to garner further donations. There is plenty of discourse around these types of content. The main argument about these videos is whether it is still a good deed when people record and post them. Yet, there doesn’t seem to be as much questioning of the ethics of televising a woman’s violent assault and the assailant's worst moment. We place those moral values on the individuals who are trying to help others in their own individual responsibilization of care, but not the media conglomerates for exploiting tragedy every single day.
There are ethical inconsistencies in the choices of the individual versus the responsibility of the system. How anonymous can you remain when a media conglomerate televises your physical assault on the nightly news? Seeing an assailant being treated to groceries and tea can be traumatizing, but video footage of a violent assault being repeatedly broadcast isn’t? These are not factors that discredit lived experience, but they are strange in the larger context of what we choose for ourselves versus others. Where are necks being stepped on, and where are hands being outstretched?
Sometimes, companies see that there are people who want to help others who are in dire situations, and they have a lot to gain by putting that responsibility back on you. Under this system you often are forced into one of two choices: get comfortable stepping on the necks of others or pull them up by yourself. Either way, the system remains fixed in the same place and arrangement. We see this responsibility to save people from poverty continually pushed onto other individuals at risk under the same system. The mere existence of GoFundMe and its consistent utilization for crowdfunding medical procedures, house repairs, and other life-rebuilding post-tragedy is a blaring alarm of a failing social services system.
The phrase “conscious capitalism” explains how companies sometimes recognize the ethical concerns of the masses and use that to try to have their cake and eat it, too. TOMS is a company that does this fairly well: buy a pair of shoes and donate a pair to someone in need. That person is far away, you never have to see them, and you get to feel great about your decision as long as you don’t question why the price tag for one pair can generate the materials for two and profit for the company.
Panera Cares was another business effort to exploit the responsibilization of poverty to the individual. They created chic “give-back” cafes where people could donate meals to others by paying more for their order, receive free day-old bread sliced for them in-store, and those in need could receive free meals paid for by other individual customers. They utilized a “Pay What You Want” model and conducted research to evaluate, “How do consumers experience being tasked with responsibilization through their consumption choices?” Although you should read the full results of this experiment, the answer is everyone seemed to react with distaste, even those who were supposed to benefit most. Some cafes even told customers they could work for an hour in exchange for food. One of the phenomena that researchers credited to the negative experience is something they call social comparison which was applied to monitoring the donation behaviors of other customers and labeling low-paying people as freeloaders.
We’re Working Together! or are we?
The TikTok Etho-Campaign and associated GoFundMe for the unhoused man was originally outrageously successful. $400,000 is not a small sum of money. The response from viewers online to the initial video of the young woman taking the unhoused man for tea and groceries was supportive, compassionate, and encouraging. Then, the context of criminalization was given by the media through a survivor’s experiences. The woman who survived an attack stated that the TikTok video was triggering to see — that this man receiving kindness had re-harmed her, and so she had to share her story. This, of course, was the green light for outrage among previous supporters, new viewers, donators, and non-donators alike.
I believe social comparison is at play in the reactions of the masses to this impactful TikTok and explains the divisiveness in the different responses. One of the psychological responses to seeing someone help someone deemed traditionally “undeserving” is to demonize the support given under the logic that I wouldn’t help that person, so you shouldn’t. Even those who were supportive initially were revoking approval based on “new context.” Of course, some compassionate individuals remained. But the question still remains, how does this new context actually impact the compassion that was originally given to a man in hard times?
The new context is almost exclusively this man’s criminal background and the experience and statements of the survivor of his criminal actions. The news source explained the survivor's reason for taking an interview and collaborating with the news channel for this report in their media segment: " The victim wants to make it clear, it’s not about the money raised for [the man]; she is sharing her story to ensure no one else gets hurt” (Fox5).
Even beyond the interviewee, many people online have echoed this sentiment. That the shame for this man is merely a byproduct of trying to keep someone safe. Trying to warn society and this woman who is helping that he is an unsafe person: women who help others shouldn’t be alone with them. The TikToker has continued to develop a relationship with this man, and so far, two months and almost 60 videos later, she has not voiced regret for that choice. The logic of this perceived “call to safety” is unknowable. We cannot know how many people this man would have harmed had you not labeled him as perpetually violent, unsafe, and unstable. Did it keep someone safe? Did it make you feel safer?
The other point that the survivor made during this interview is something that we should digest. “First of all — kudos to the woman who did this. She meant well, and I do applaud her for that. I know it was a lot of work for her to do so, but [she is] portraying him as something he just simply isn’t.” I find myself struck by the final statement. What is or isn’t he? The TikToker speaks about this man with reverie that the woman he assaulted doesn’t agree with. The interviewee refers to him as a sociopath at one point. I respect the right of people with lived experience to carry whatever narratives are necessary to cope. However, the assignment of any armchair diagnosis should not determine whether a man receives help or care from his community (especially in a society that often requires a diagnosis for structural care.) Again, we are back to the conflict at hand: some people deem this man worthy, and the news media ran an entire segment with a call to action stating that he is not.
Why is that call to action necessary? Re-establishing the dichotomy that some people are undeserving allows the failings of the system to go ignored while the responsibility of care is placed back on you. The only reason we have the power to decide who deserves help is because the responsibility of helping is on us. We are the gatekeepers of support because the system will not help, and we know this. So, the perceived scarcity of time, energy, and resources to help require us to gatekeep and limit to whom we extend our compassion.
Illogical but Practical Effects
The news article online ends with a link to donor claims for refunds for the GoFundMe campaign. How many people would rescind their donation based on believing that GoFundMe won’t donate it to who they intended, and how many rescinded it because they no longer feel he is deserving? This is where societal messaging is most reinforced. GoFundMe, regardless of reason, has denied access to funds and represents the closed fist of care. “We will not facilitate this help because you have not gone about it in the correct way.” Even if the terms and conditions require the individual receiving the funds to be the one the funds are released, how many other campaigns have violated this rule without interference from the company? It is near impossible for someone without housing to receive care and meet eligibility for anything that requires an address, bank account, and driver’s license or ID. If he met the criteria for having a bank account, that $400,000 would make a less stark difference in his need for help. Obviously, that amount of money would change the lives of even my average reader. However, the cost of restarting a life, including basic documents, housing, and a bank account, is high. GoFundMe created an additional barrier that allowed people to cave to societal pressure and change their minds about what this man deserves.
The most interesting logic in this chain is the reaction to criminalization. This fits within expectations under the deserving or undeserving mentality. People were willing to support when this person was by default in the “deserving” category by being down on his luck in an economy that most recognize as creating poor outcomes for many. However, once the “criminal” label was added to the context of this man’s circumstances, the whiplash of a sudden change to “undeserving” in the eyes of many creates not only a psychological response but also emotional and financial ones. People react poorly, demonize anyone involved to explain their sudden distaste for the situation and person, and then rescind donations.
This is not a man who is revealed to have committed a crime that he has not “paid” for by society’s definition. He pled guilty, served his time, and was released. If serving sentences for crimes is not considered to be payment or atonement for them, what is the point? It seems that continued, lifelong punishment and suffering are necessary to some. In this case, the man pled guilty to the charges for the incident being broadcast and finished his sentence. If you believe that the criminal-legal system produces justice and appropriate retribution, why would that not be enough to allow him support now?
If you don’t believe the system produces justice, why is his criminal history a factor? It is baffling that someone who would want to support someone who is unhoused could not consider that incarceration might be a factor that led to being unhoused. You don’t need to know off of the top of your head that being incarcerated more than one time makes you 13 times more likely to be homeless to understand that the system produces overall poor outcomes. If you know that incarceration causes homelessness, why would this man not be deserving of donations only weeks after release from incarceration and into the troublesome period of re-entry into a community?
Ultimately, 95% of people who are incarcerated will eventually re-enter a community - how do we get comfortable with what that looks like?
What Year is It?
This is a moral issue to most. It is not the criminal-legal payment or retribution that they are worried about. It’s the idea that criminality is an immovable moral trait. He served his time but that is not enough because anyone who could commit that type of crime is not capable of change. He will always remain undeserving because he is seen as a different moral creature than those who donated. “My money can’t go to someone who was violent! He’s a bad person.”
Some actual comments from videos regarding the initial TikTok controversy:
“U really never know who you’re helping.”
“I hope that girl and only her gets the money for what she tried to do! She has a good heart leave the old knuckle heads in the streets.”
“Apparently he’s a serial abuser and he’s just being exposed for it.”
“Demand your money back”
“True homeless do not ask for money[,] learned that from a past homeless person.”
“Gotta do your research and know who you’re helping. But kudos to her for trying to do good.”
And one comment throughout this that I personally echo here:
“Quick Question: Is redemption available in this life?
Many of these online exchanges ring so similarly to those from that poster in 1837,
“Pray, Sir, have mercy on us and let us in, or give us some relief, for we are actually starving.”
“Then go and rob for your living for ye can’t enter here – be off, ye varmint.”
I don’t believe that you, reader, are the one publishing videos degrading this man (although maybe you considered it.) I want us to have this space to reflect on what this situation represents for us as community members with these constant societal messages.
Since the beginning of this incident in January of 2024, the woman who was helping has posted regular updates. The final resolve is that the man did not get an ID card to get his funds from GoFundMe, spent a lot of personal money from the woman who helped him, stopped responding to contacts from her, and eventually, it seems that the man gave up on receiving help, and so did those helping him. When writing this update on May 1st, the man is missing and cannot be located. The woman helping has faced her own financial struggles, educational issues, and time-drain from providing extensive support over the course of months with this man. One person alone cannot do everything without facing their own risk. This young woman even apologized to her viewership for not “providing good results.”
The point I want to be clear about is that there is no clear right answer in this case. This case represents how massive the issues of incarceration, homelessness, and social welfare are across the United States and how limited the support for those in need can be in the structures that provide it. This case is not unique. This is merely a representation of a larger moral and ethical question in our society. The takeaway seems to be that our views are the same as they began, the unhoused person deserves help, but the criminal doesn’t. My initial questions for reflection are here: If you believe that a “bad person” can’t get better, would a “bad person” who has a home, stable finances, consistent food, and security of basic needs commit foul acts the same as a “bad person” on the streets in crisis? Now, if you believe a bad person can get better, would they fare better on the streets or in their own home? Whose responsibility is it to make sure we all are taken care of?
What Can We Do?
Our systems rely on unchanging beliefs in the body of citizens to allow the status quo to continue. Although it may not seem like a radical act, reflecting on your views and intentionally acting on values that are important to you make a difference. These views structure your perspective of how you view and interact with the world. What you know about the world and yourself determines your socio-political connections to your environment. If this article evoked emotions of any kind, take the next step and reflect on these concepts.
Self-Reflection Questions
What makes someone deserving of help?
What do you feel makes someone undeserving of help?
How do people’s circumstances produce behavior?
What are the main issues that you think different communities are facing?
What small things make your life better?
What can you contribute in a single day to make someone else’s life better, even in a small way?
What does trust look like in our communities?
Is trust and respect earned or given? What makes it worth taking away?
Where do you feel most connected to others?
What builds connections with others?
What diminishes your connection to others?
What parts of your comfort are you willing to give up for others?
What is your morality based on?
What is forgivable, and what is unforgivable? For yourself and others?
If those answers are different, what makes them different?
Is redemption achievable? What is necessary for redemption from our worst mistakes?
Ask More of the System or Build Your Own
In American culture, it has been disincentivized to help others. The reason that there are no clear answers in this story or our general fumblings of human life is that these issues are all interconnected, and yet we, as people, aren’t.
In recent news, Foods Not Bombs, a non-profit that feeds the homeless, has a Houston chapter. In one year, the chapter received almost 100 tickets and fines from law enforcement for their food services until a judge stepped in to stop the enforcement of an ordinance that made it illegal to feed more than five people on any property in the city. A bill in Georgia has been moving forward that increases the charges that are ineligible for release without cash bond in the same state where 61 activists were arrested for the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations (RICO) Act. Anti-protest bills and criminalization or LEO response to activism have been part of the network of the United States social landscape.
These times for helping others are harder and less seemingly beneficial than ever. In whatever ways you can, stop letting the Panera Cares phenomenon be pushed on you. The system wants you to hate others, to give up, and to let its failings go unnoticed. Everyone’s best action is going to look different. In the current era, any effort you can give is a good one. Sometimes, that’s as simple as helping a neighbor. Looking at relationships as transactional instead of long-term and relational will leave you lonely and without your own support.
The biggest goal should be to connect and work together. It is easier to lift someone up or be lifted up when there are ten hands rather than two. Practical ways to make this happen are to join or build communities that are not based on transactions and owing each other.
Community building can happen at several stages. Finding a community that already exists is a better place to start than starting from scratch. Guidance on how to find a truly valuable community exists for a new starting point. I recommend always starting in-person and regionally, especially after the isolation of the COVID shutdowns that have had lasting impacts. The Community Toolbox is an excellent resource for any level of skill in community building. Every community has issues, and the goal is to work together to address them. Everyone, even you, has a skill to share with others. Start small and achievable with practical human connections because community building should invest in you as much as you invest in others.
For more formal organizing, mutual aid networks and practices are growing throughout the country. Mutual aid involves cooperation and receiving help as much as giving it. It focuses on direct action helping others in your community (and receiving it) instead of relying on structural organizations. This differs from charity, which separates once again, the deserving from the undeserving or the in-need from those who have. Similar to other community-building efforts, you can join an existing mutual aid group, or you can create your own with similarly motivated people in your personal network. As always, start where you can, but please start. It doesn’t have to be radical, just refreshed.