There are poor people who take a “free ride” on the welfare system. They receive food stamps, health care, unemployment, and other benefits. I’ve been surprised at the emotion generated when these people come up in conversation: voices rise, foreheads wrinkle, and fingers wag. Why does this elicit such anger?
Many psychologists think human behavior distinctly accommodates small groups. In groups, people divide tasks and share benefits. Even if you get more out of one transaction, I may get more out of the next one. A stronger group helps everyone survive—especially when threatened by other groups. Today, these “in-group” behaviors are inherent.
People outside our group don’t get the benefit of the doubt. Our favor to them may never be returned. Their group is a threat to ours. We are miserly with our trust and quick to punish. It’s not just a rational decision we make. It’s a well-worn groove in our emotional path that we naturally slide down.
There are many examples in life. Members of a bowling team may share supplies, take turns buying drinks, and cover for one member who forgot their wallet. But that kind of relationship is not extended to other teams. Are the members of other teams all dirty rascals? Or do groups grant their members automatic trust, and grant outsiders distrust?
I believe this natural tendency is the root of the anger I see expressed toward welfare recipients. They are seen as taking advantage of a system which we all contribute to. In other words, non-group members are cheating, and it triggers our strong desire for punishment. That’s where the emotion comes from. But do the poor deserve this anger?
Pro-welfare arguments often point out that many people use welfare for short times and later contribute productively to society. They suggest that unrelieved poverty has higher costs than poverty alleviated by welfare. Anti-welfare arguments point toward abuse in the system. They suggest that when we give aid, we encourage people to sit around and wait for more aid. They say it is unfair for hard workers to pay for someone else’s laziness. An objective view of the truth would be enlightening, but in emotionally charged areas, people tend to see whatever supports their own view.
It is clear that we all have anger toward people who cheat to give themselves unfair advantages. Whatever verb we choose (game the system, cheat, take advantage, freeload), we are upset when we work hard and play by the rules, but others do not.
There are cheaters in the welfare system. But is there something special about the evils of welfare? It’s interesting to me that welfare cheats come up so often in political discussions, but other kinds of cheats do not. The poor are not the only cheaters, and in fairness we ought to mention some others.
The average CEO in America makes 300+ times the salary of their average worker. In the 1950s, it was around 40 times. I’m not sure modern CEOs are seven times more effective than CEOs of the 1940s, but they are paid like it. Perhaps part of the reason is that governing boards and compensation committees are often stacked with other executives, CEOs, and former CEOs. I’m not sure how much money you make, but I bet you’d make more if a committee of your friends and co-workers set your salary. Even when a CEO messes up so badly that they get fired, they are granted lavish parting packages. That doesn’t sound fair to me.
Even the middle class has cheaters. It is an open secret that some tradesmen request cash for their services in order to evade taxes. They may justify their cheating by saying taxes are too high, but it is cheating nonetheless. My personal experience with college students (our future middle and upper middle class) taught me that their ethical standards are no higher than anyone else’s. I witnessed students lie to get out of trouble, to get others into trouble, to avoid living in the dormitories, or to get a grade changed.
No group is 100% ethical or unethical. Character doesn’t change when we get a degree, get a job, or get a promotion. That’s easy to understand intellectually—but our biases remain strong.
Imagine you’re walking through a shady parking garage. You hear footsteps coming your way. Around the corner walks… a well-kept man in a business suit. Worried? Probably not. If the man who walked around the corner was unkept and wearing baggy, tattered clothes, you would be worried. You granted the wealthy man a halo, but the poor man got nothing. There are good reasons for this difference, but not good reasons that can be blamed on that poor unkept man.
We grant successful people higher ethical status simply because they are successful. Why? We see them as more like us (or more like what we aspire to be) and assume people similar to us are more honest. Simply put, they are granted “in-group” status.
More successful people also have more resources to guard their reputations. When you point out the ethical weaknesses of middle and upper class citizens, you’re considered cynical and you upset people. When rich people are portrayed as evil in movies, you can count on a cry of “class warfare.” Why isn’t it cynicism or class warfare when the integrity of the poor is insulted?
When we hear stories of welfare abuse, it’s presented as the example we should use to judge the system. But when corporate scandals (from Enron and Tyco to predatory sub-prime mortgage loans) explode, we’re assured that it’s not the example we should use to judge the system. We’re told it’s just a rare, unfortunate deviation. The poor don’t have lawyers or PR firms to send those messages for them.
Some poor people make bad ethical decisions. The bad decisions they make are sometimes unsophisticated because they don’t have access to sophisticated ways of taking advantage. There’s no moral defense for it either way. It is fascinating, though, that our political discussions tend to involve so much more rage at the sins of the poor than at the sins of the rest of us. There’s that in-group bias again. It affects so many of our judgments.
This “in-group bias” is simultaneously one of humanity’s best and worst characteristics. On one hand, in-group bias helps us to support and defend our families, teams, businesses, and communities. On the other hand, people outside our group are treated with suspicion or worse.
It is no surprise that mainstream America looks with suspicion on the poor and is quick to see them as distrustful. Middle and upper class Americans are repeatedly told that we’re different, harder working, and more deserving than they are. It preys on our biases and on our ego. It’s natural, but it is not fair.
I believe the rest of us have much less of an excuse to cheat than someone who lives in poverty. “With privilege,” as the saying goes, “comes responsibility.” It may take effort to see poor and disadvantaged people, even ones that make bad decisions, as part of “my group,” but I refuse to carve America into little pieces.
Instead of labeling the poor, I label myself as grateful—grateful enough that I’m willing to share some of my good fortune to build a stronger community. If the poor benefit from those public resources and services, so be it. Whether admirable or not, they are people too.
It’s important to think about this now. As America chooses its next President, watch to see who describes Americans as one great in-group, and who carves it into groups of good vs. bad. I know which America I want to live in.
Many psychologists think human behavior distinctly accommodates small groups. In groups, people divide tasks and share benefits. Even if you get more out of one transaction, I may get more out of the next one. A stronger group helps everyone survive—especially when threatened by other groups. Today, these “in-group” behaviors are inherent.
People outside our group don’t get the benefit of the doubt. Our favor to them may never be returned. Their group is a threat to ours. We are miserly with our trust and quick to punish. It’s not just a rational decision we make. It’s a well-worn groove in our emotional path that we naturally slide down.
There are many examples in life. Members of a bowling team may share supplies, take turns buying drinks, and cover for one member who forgot their wallet. But that kind of relationship is not extended to other teams. Are the members of other teams all dirty rascals? Or do groups grant their members automatic trust, and grant outsiders distrust?
I believe this natural tendency is the root of the anger I see expressed toward welfare recipients. They are seen as taking advantage of a system which we all contribute to. In other words, non-group members are cheating, and it triggers our strong desire for punishment. That’s where the emotion comes from. But do the poor deserve this anger?
Pro-welfare arguments often point out that many people use welfare for short times and later contribute productively to society. They suggest that unrelieved poverty has higher costs than poverty alleviated by welfare. Anti-welfare arguments point toward abuse in the system. They suggest that when we give aid, we encourage people to sit around and wait for more aid. They say it is unfair for hard workers to pay for someone else’s laziness. An objective view of the truth would be enlightening, but in emotionally charged areas, people tend to see whatever supports their own view.
It is clear that we all have anger toward people who cheat to give themselves unfair advantages. Whatever verb we choose (game the system, cheat, take advantage, freeload), we are upset when we work hard and play by the rules, but others do not.
There are cheaters in the welfare system. But is there something special about the evils of welfare? It’s interesting to me that welfare cheats come up so often in political discussions, but other kinds of cheats do not. The poor are not the only cheaters, and in fairness we ought to mention some others.
The average CEO in America makes 300+ times the salary of their average worker. In the 1950s, it was around 40 times. I’m not sure modern CEOs are seven times more effective than CEOs of the 1940s, but they are paid like it. Perhaps part of the reason is that governing boards and compensation committees are often stacked with other executives, CEOs, and former CEOs. I’m not sure how much money you make, but I bet you’d make more if a committee of your friends and co-workers set your salary. Even when a CEO messes up so badly that they get fired, they are granted lavish parting packages. That doesn’t sound fair to me.
Even the middle class has cheaters. It is an open secret that some tradesmen request cash for their services in order to evade taxes. They may justify their cheating by saying taxes are too high, but it is cheating nonetheless. My personal experience with college students (our future middle and upper middle class) taught me that their ethical standards are no higher than anyone else’s. I witnessed students lie to get out of trouble, to get others into trouble, to avoid living in the dormitories, or to get a grade changed.
No group is 100% ethical or unethical. Character doesn’t change when we get a degree, get a job, or get a promotion. That’s easy to understand intellectually—but our biases remain strong.
Imagine you’re walking through a shady parking garage. You hear footsteps coming your way. Around the corner walks… a well-kept man in a business suit. Worried? Probably not. If the man who walked around the corner was unkept and wearing baggy, tattered clothes, you would be worried. You granted the wealthy man a halo, but the poor man got nothing. There are good reasons for this difference, but not good reasons that can be blamed on that poor unkept man.
We grant successful people higher ethical status simply because they are successful. Why? We see them as more like us (or more like what we aspire to be) and assume people similar to us are more honest. Simply put, they are granted “in-group” status.
More successful people also have more resources to guard their reputations. When you point out the ethical weaknesses of middle and upper class citizens, you’re considered cynical and you upset people. When rich people are portrayed as evil in movies, you can count on a cry of “class warfare.” Why isn’t it cynicism or class warfare when the integrity of the poor is insulted?
When we hear stories of welfare abuse, it’s presented as the example we should use to judge the system. But when corporate scandals (from Enron and Tyco to predatory sub-prime mortgage loans) explode, we’re assured that it’s not the example we should use to judge the system. We’re told it’s just a rare, unfortunate deviation. The poor don’t have lawyers or PR firms to send those messages for them.
Some poor people make bad ethical decisions. The bad decisions they make are sometimes unsophisticated because they don’t have access to sophisticated ways of taking advantage. There’s no moral defense for it either way. It is fascinating, though, that our political discussions tend to involve so much more rage at the sins of the poor than at the sins of the rest of us. There’s that in-group bias again. It affects so many of our judgments.
This “in-group bias” is simultaneously one of humanity’s best and worst characteristics. On one hand, in-group bias helps us to support and defend our families, teams, businesses, and communities. On the other hand, people outside our group are treated with suspicion or worse.
It is no surprise that mainstream America looks with suspicion on the poor and is quick to see them as distrustful. Middle and upper class Americans are repeatedly told that we’re different, harder working, and more deserving than they are. It preys on our biases and on our ego. It’s natural, but it is not fair.
I believe the rest of us have much less of an excuse to cheat than someone who lives in poverty. “With privilege,” as the saying goes, “comes responsibility.” It may take effort to see poor and disadvantaged people, even ones that make bad decisions, as part of “my group,” but I refuse to carve America into little pieces.
Instead of labeling the poor, I label myself as grateful—grateful enough that I’m willing to share some of my good fortune to build a stronger community. If the poor benefit from those public resources and services, so be it. Whether admirable or not, they are people too.
It’s important to think about this now. As America chooses its next President, watch to see who describes Americans as one great in-group, and who carves it into groups of good vs. bad. I know which America I want to live in.
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