Don't be a student hero

Does anyone ever get fed up with all the self-anointed heroes you see every day?

I sure do.

On any typical walk to class, I can expect to encounter at least three budding philanthropists, all throwing various pamphlets, brochures and stickers my way in order to gain my support.

Whether it is some desperate IU Student Association ticket trying to gain votes, or a member of INPIRG wanting signatures, or the always recognizable “Help Stop Violence” man, I treat all of these pests with equal indifference and disdain.

I guess you could call me an egalitarian jerk.

Now, before you write me off as some soulless monstrosity that hates charity and rainbows and all the wonderful things in the world, I would like to clarify a few of my beliefs on student heroism.

Firstly, I have very little faith in the ability of a student-run bureaucratic organization to save the world.

While I have no problem donating $10 to the Red Cross for earthquake relief or something of that nature, I have significant worries about donating $10 to what will likely amount to be a large cheese pizza at a call-out meeting six weeks later.

Even if the organization’s budget is well-managed, what degree of certainty do I have that my money will even be used effectively to solve some global crisis?

We don’t even know for certain if global warming exists, let alone what to do about it.
Many students join causes and rallying around beliefs that they find personally meaningful.

I have no qualms with this mind-set, as it is a noble and worthy venture to pursue what one finds joy in.

However, I do take up arms with the notion that students should involve themselves in philanthropic endeavors purely based on the incentive of landing a nice internship or job because of their so-called “volunteerism.”

The concept of volunteerism relies on principle that one works for another person, organization or cause without any compensation.

While most people read compensation as a strictly financial measure, I view compensation in terms of financial and intangible gains.

If one is working at a local soup kitchen with the incentive of securing future financial gain, then can this really be classified as true volunteerism? I don’t think so.

The reality is that true altruism, in its purest sense, is not economically
realistic in society.

All acts, as noble as they are, are carried out with the intent to earn some degree of personal reward.

This holds true for all types of institutions, from religion to politics — they all take care of their own.

Christianity offers one of the most powerful incentive mechanisms ever created: the concept of Heaven and, of course, Hell.

What better way is there to motivate people to live good, moral lives than the concept of an afterlife?

When given the prospect of an ethical choice, (e.g. whether or not to have an affair outside of marriage) the so-called “righteous man” would chose to avoid the affair and probably look down on others who choose differently.

Most people are negatively incentivized by the possibility of spending an eternity in a brimstone spa. This is a rational decision, because of course the positive utility of an affair is greatly outweighed by the large negative utility of eternal damnation.

But when the idea of an afterlife or a universal moral code is taken out of the scenario, the choice becomes much murkier. With the fear of Hell or the hope of Heaven taken out of the game, the righteous man may rethink his decision.

The same can be applied for politics.

A student may join a grass roots campaign and tell voters he is working for a cause or some greater good.

This was especially prevalent in the 2008 presidential election. The upperclassmen will probably remember all of the campaign workers flooding campus with shirts, stickers and badges plastered with the same tired campaign slogans.

It was a nightmare.

But are these student organizers truly rallying behind a cause? More likely, they are rallying behind a future job offer from the party they’re supporting.

I have plenty of friends in Washington with cushy jobs in the Department of Homeland Security and the White House because of their contributions to the Obama campaign.
The movie “Zombieland,” besides being an absolute laugh riot, is a great example of pure, unadulterated economics in a state of anarchy.

The protagonist, Columbus, offers this simple rule to manage the perils of everyday post-apocalyptic life: “Don’t be a hero.”


E-mail: halderfer@indiana.edu