Thank you for taking the time to engage so deeply with my essay. I apologise for the delay in replying. I’ve been on holiday since I posted, and unfortunately I’ve been unable to reply as fully as I wanted until now. I’ll offer some thoughts and responses I have after reading your valuable comments.
EA as a form of capitalism:
I agree that EA does not try to hold onto the material resources that pass through its actors. I also agree that all social movements must accumulate extra-monetary forms of capital, such as knowledge, social capital and political buy-in.
What I want to question, however, is how the EA movement processes its resources in ways that facilitate and mimic capitalism. You state that incentivising for public goods is the core problem under capitalism. I concur, but my argument is that EA makes it easier for their disincentivization because it tries to make the process of addressing externalities as efficient as possible, conducted privately. EA plugs the gaps caused by structural economic inequality (like unequal currency exchange or the lack of reparations for centuries of slavery), rather than centring these as the fundamental issues at stake. System-wide problems cannot be fixed overnight, and I agree there is a moral duty to alleviate suffering most efficiently. Yet, my concern is that EA becomes myopic because of its intense focus on the latter.
EA as a facilitator of capitalism:
The major thrust of my piece is to argue that the aid movement is structurally embedded within capitalist priorities of the Global North, even if it aims to be as effective as possible within this paradigm. I do not argue that aid is being used to disingenuously manipulate public opinion or that EA is a better vehicle than any other for hoodwinking the public. Critical theory is not about conspiracy, but about providing tools to unpick the naturalization of power.
Throughout my piece, I am also clear that we should never neglect people in need. I argued that we still need EA’s insights, just as people in food poverty need food banks in the Global North, but this should not neglect us from trying to work towards identifying the structures underpinning suffering. Nor do I suggest that deprivation would somehow prod people in the Global South into action. Indeed, my argument is the converse: people in the Global South are full of ideas and solutions – yet the EA community needs prodding towards creating the epistemic architecture to listen to more of these.
Unfortunately, concrete sociological examples of the behaviour of ultrawealthy people are rare. It is a highly under-researched field, due to difficulties accessing this secretive, exclusive population and researcher biases towards studying more oppressed groups. One example I am aware of is Justin Farrell’s (2021) book Billionaire Wilderness, which is an ethnographic and quantitative study of philanthropocapitalism in Teton Country, Wyoming, the richest county in the US. Farrell quantitatively traced how his contacts socialized with each other, donated to local environmental and educational charities, as well as examining their attitudes through in-depth interviews. Farrell found clear evidence that philanthropy acted as “a valuable form of social currency in the community” with an emergent status market. He documents how the influx of great wealth created a greater need for this local charity, due to its inflation of the local real estate market. He argues, on the basis of this data, that there was a “strong tendency towards politically safe projects that reinforce the status quo” and preserve social philanthropic networks (p.g.160). This philanthropic field is very different to EA’s global, evidence-backed philanthropy. However, I’m inclined to agree with Farrell’s conclusion that “most rich philanthropists are neither entirely good Samaritans, giving altruistically for the purity of a cause, nor are they entirely evil colonialists with hidden self-interest or ideas of self-aggrandizement”.
Foucault, critical theory, etc.
I think critical theory can often appear “problematically navel-gazey” because it asks that people with greater privilege interrogate the way in which they participate in structures of power, which is something they are unaccustomed to, even if they are inclined to scrutinize evidence. Social scientists call this ‘reflexivity’, and it can be unsettling and difficult. For instance, it can be uncomfortable to appreciate how Western science facilitated colonialism and how it remains suffused with coloniality (see: Livingstone [2003] Putting Science in Its Place: Geographies of Scientific Knowledge; Saini [2019] Superior: The Return of Race Science; Poskett [2022] Horizons: A Global History of Science; Raja et al. [2022] Nat. Ecol. & Evol. 6, pp.145-154).
Talking about privilege in ways that foment white fragility, guilt or paralysis doesn’t help anyone. However, if people can recognise and then steward their privilege – for instance, as a grantmaker, admitting non-normative perspectives and problems – then I think this is how communities work towards undoing racism and inequity. It is also worth remembering that Foucault’s understanding of power is as much generative as disciplinary. EA wields power productively, by defining a population over which health interventions can be administered, to improve overall wellbeing.
On scarcity:
Without a question, not everyone has the resources they need to live a healthy, happy, fulfilled life. However, my point is that what the most powerful epistemic actors discursively label as scarcity creates what we perceive as scarcity in society (Althusser called this ‘interpellation’). Therefore, the first step to overcoming how capitalism exacerbates inequality and interpellates scarcity is to disentangle what constitutes a lack of resources that 8 billion humans genuinely need from what resources are scarce because capitalism convinces us we need them to get ahead. So, whilst I entirely agree that many people lack the bare necessities of life (i.e., they are scarce), I want EA to realise how it participates in the discourse of scarcity that forecloses the possibility of other economic frameworks, built on the wealth found in community, joy and other non-material forms abundance.
Quantitative approaches:
I’ll be sure to read Superforecasting by Tetlock—thanks for the recommendation. Quantitative approaches have brought big strides in progress; all I’m asking is that EA does not neglect what cannot be quantified accurately, or what, if quantified, might pave a road towards commodification.
Methods’ track records:
I think your comment about critical theory not having a good track record misunderstands the systemic nature of the geopolitics of knowledge. We need to listen to diverse viewpoints and include diverse voices, but that alone is insufficient to challenge how non-hegemonic knowledge can only be admitted, heard, and acted upon if it submits to the terms of the dominant epistemic culture. So, yes, we can get to work and update our perspectives, but the most valuable work is to challenge the knowledge architecture of the movement in the first place. This is what social movements and unions try to do. Critical theory is merely the route that admits this into the academy via continental philosophy and citation patterns – aka, expressed within the dominant epistemic culture.
General comment on the idea that EA is opposed to social change:
Thanks for flagging these charities and movements to me.
EA can question the dynamics of power, and I agree that it does; my essay is focused, however, on the structures of power that EA may not realise it is participating within, such as its sanctioning of massive private wealth by encouraging billionaires to join EA-backed philanthropy. I’m arguing that this may be an impediment to EA seeing what is most effective or engaging other social movements, which dislike EA’s lack of attention to power and oppression.
You’ve phrased this very nicely: “Some people like doing good with statistics, some people like doing good with organizing, those preferences lend themselves to different cause areas, and I am very grateful to both groups of people.” Both areas should cross-fertilize each other, and accept different epistemic norms, and this requires engaging non-antagonistically with different admissibility criteria for evidence.
Tropical rainforest example:
My argument is not that EA would commodify the Amazon per se, but that it may be impossible for EA to identify the most effective strategy from the perspective of Amazonian residents. EA’s quantification process may participate within forms of carbon colonialism, even if this is never intended. Again, the power of critical theory is to unpick mechanism of power/knowledge which are otherwise naturalized.
Thanks again for your engagement, and I hope my comments are useful.
This reads (at least to me) as taking a softer line than the original piece, so there’s not as much I disagree with, and quite a lot that’s closer to my own thinking too. I might add more later, but this was already a useful exchange for me, so thanks again for writing and for the reply! I have upvoted (I upvoted the original also), and I hope you find your interactions on here constructive.
Edit: One thing that seems worth acknowledging: I agree there is a distinctive form of ‘meta-’ reflection that is required if you want be meaningfully inclusive, and my reply didn’t capture that with ‘listen to diverse viewpoints, use that to update very hard...‘. I think your ‘challenge the knowledge architecture’ phrase is fuzzy but is getting at something useful, as the process definitely involves updating your heuristics around what sorts of contributions are valuable (versus e.g. just listening to people from different backgrounds for contributions that you consider valuable). I am inclined to credit social movements and not critical theory with figuring out how to do this though, and participating in social movements with being the best way to get better at it yourself!
Hi tcelferact,
Thank you for taking the time to engage so deeply with my essay. I apologise for the delay in replying. I’ve been on holiday since I posted, and unfortunately I’ve been unable to reply as fully as I wanted until now. I’ll offer some thoughts and responses I have after reading your valuable comments.
EA as a form of capitalism:
I agree that EA does not try to hold onto the material resources that pass through its actors. I also agree that all social movements must accumulate extra-monetary forms of capital, such as knowledge, social capital and political buy-in.
What I want to question, however, is how the EA movement processes its resources in ways that facilitate and mimic capitalism. You state that incentivising for public goods is the core problem under capitalism. I concur, but my argument is that EA makes it easier for their disincentivization because it tries to make the process of addressing externalities as efficient as possible, conducted privately. EA plugs the gaps caused by structural economic inequality (like unequal currency exchange or the lack of reparations for centuries of slavery), rather than centring these as the fundamental issues at stake. System-wide problems cannot be fixed overnight, and I agree there is a moral duty to alleviate suffering most efficiently. Yet, my concern is that EA becomes myopic because of its intense focus on the latter.
EA as a facilitator of capitalism:
The major thrust of my piece is to argue that the aid movement is structurally embedded within capitalist priorities of the Global North, even if it aims to be as effective as possible within this paradigm. I do not argue that aid is being used to disingenuously manipulate public opinion or that EA is a better vehicle than any other for hoodwinking the public. Critical theory is not about conspiracy, but about providing tools to unpick the naturalization of power.
Throughout my piece, I am also clear that we should never neglect people in need. I argued that we still need EA’s insights, just as people in food poverty need food banks in the Global North, but this should not neglect us from trying to work towards identifying the structures underpinning suffering. Nor do I suggest that deprivation would somehow prod people in the Global South into action. Indeed, my argument is the converse: people in the Global South are full of ideas and solutions – yet the EA community needs prodding towards creating the epistemic architecture to listen to more of these.
Unfortunately, concrete sociological examples of the behaviour of ultrawealthy people are rare. It is a highly under-researched field, due to difficulties accessing this secretive, exclusive population and researcher biases towards studying more oppressed groups. One example I am aware of is Justin Farrell’s (2021) book Billionaire Wilderness, which is an ethnographic and quantitative study of philanthropocapitalism in Teton Country, Wyoming, the richest county in the US. Farrell quantitatively traced how his contacts socialized with each other, donated to local environmental and educational charities, as well as examining their attitudes through in-depth interviews. Farrell found clear evidence that philanthropy acted as “a valuable form of social currency in the community” with an emergent status market. He documents how the influx of great wealth created a greater need for this local charity, due to its inflation of the local real estate market. He argues, on the basis of this data, that there was a “strong tendency towards politically safe projects that reinforce the status quo” and preserve social philanthropic networks (p.g.160). This philanthropic field is very different to EA’s global, evidence-backed philanthropy. However, I’m inclined to agree with Farrell’s conclusion that “most rich philanthropists are neither entirely good Samaritans, giving altruistically for the purity of a cause, nor are they entirely evil colonialists with hidden self-interest or ideas of self-aggrandizement”.
Foucault, critical theory, etc.
I think critical theory can often appear “problematically navel-gazey” because it asks that people with greater privilege interrogate the way in which they participate in structures of power, which is something they are unaccustomed to, even if they are inclined to scrutinize evidence. Social scientists call this ‘reflexivity’, and it can be unsettling and difficult. For instance, it can be uncomfortable to appreciate how Western science facilitated colonialism and how it remains suffused with coloniality (see: Livingstone [2003] Putting Science in Its Place: Geographies of Scientific Knowledge; Saini [2019] Superior: The Return of Race Science; Poskett [2022] Horizons: A Global History of Science; Raja et al. [2022] Nat. Ecol. & Evol. 6, pp.145-154).
Talking about privilege in ways that foment white fragility, guilt or paralysis doesn’t help anyone. However, if people can recognise and then steward their privilege – for instance, as a grantmaker, admitting non-normative perspectives and problems – then I think this is how communities work towards undoing racism and inequity. It is also worth remembering that Foucault’s understanding of power is as much generative as disciplinary. EA wields power productively, by defining a population over which health interventions can be administered, to improve overall wellbeing.
On scarcity:
Without a question, not everyone has the resources they need to live a healthy, happy, fulfilled life. However, my point is that what the most powerful epistemic actors discursively label as scarcity creates what we perceive as scarcity in society (Althusser called this ‘interpellation’). Therefore, the first step to overcoming how capitalism exacerbates inequality and interpellates scarcity is to disentangle what constitutes a lack of resources that 8 billion humans genuinely need from what resources are scarce because capitalism convinces us we need them to get ahead. So, whilst I entirely agree that many people lack the bare necessities of life (i.e., they are scarce), I want EA to realise how it participates in the discourse of scarcity that forecloses the possibility of other economic frameworks, built on the wealth found in community, joy and other non-material forms abundance.
Quantitative approaches:
I’ll be sure to read Superforecasting by Tetlock—thanks for the recommendation. Quantitative approaches have brought big strides in progress; all I’m asking is that EA does not neglect what cannot be quantified accurately, or what, if quantified, might pave a road towards commodification.
Methods’ track records:
I think your comment about critical theory not having a good track record misunderstands the systemic nature of the geopolitics of knowledge. We need to listen to diverse viewpoints and include diverse voices, but that alone is insufficient to challenge how non-hegemonic knowledge can only be admitted, heard, and acted upon if it submits to the terms of the dominant epistemic culture. So, yes, we can get to work and update our perspectives, but the most valuable work is to challenge the knowledge architecture of the movement in the first place. This is what social movements and unions try to do. Critical theory is merely the route that admits this into the academy via continental philosophy and citation patterns – aka, expressed within the dominant epistemic culture.
General comment on the idea that EA is opposed to social change:
Thanks for flagging these charities and movements to me.
EA can question the dynamics of power, and I agree that it does; my essay is focused, however, on the structures of power that EA may not realise it is participating within, such as its sanctioning of massive private wealth by encouraging billionaires to join EA-backed philanthropy. I’m arguing that this may be an impediment to EA seeing what is most effective or engaging other social movements, which dislike EA’s lack of attention to power and oppression.
You’ve phrased this very nicely: “Some people like doing good with statistics, some people like doing good with organizing, those preferences lend themselves to different cause areas, and I am very grateful to both groups of people.” Both areas should cross-fertilize each other, and accept different epistemic norms, and this requires engaging non-antagonistically with different admissibility criteria for evidence.
Tropical rainforest example:
My argument is not that EA would commodify the Amazon per se, but that it may be impossible for EA to identify the most effective strategy from the perspective of Amazonian residents. EA’s quantification process may participate within forms of carbon colonialism, even if this is never intended. Again, the power of critical theory is to unpick mechanism of power/knowledge which are otherwise naturalized.
Thanks again for your engagement, and I hope my comments are useful.
This reads (at least to me) as taking a softer line than the original piece, so there’s not as much I disagree with, and quite a lot that’s closer to my own thinking too. I might add more later, but this was already a useful exchange for me, so thanks again for writing and for the reply! I have upvoted (I upvoted the original also), and I hope you find your interactions on here constructive.
Edit: One thing that seems worth acknowledging: I agree there is a distinctive form of ‘meta-’ reflection that is required if you want be meaningfully inclusive, and my reply didn’t capture that with ‘listen to diverse viewpoints, use that to update very hard...‘. I think your ‘challenge the knowledge architecture’ phrase is fuzzy but is getting at something useful, as the process definitely involves updating your heuristics around what sorts of contributions are valuable (versus e.g. just listening to people from different backgrounds for contributions that you consider valuable). I am inclined to credit social movements and not critical theory with figuring out how to do this though, and participating in social movements with being the best way to get better at it yourself!