Echoes of Chrysophile: Rousseau, Sam Bankman-Fried, and Effective Altruism

• In Event: Rousseau and Democracy: The People and the Nation

Abstract

Sam Bankman-Fried's origin story is relatively unique, insofar as he was driven to acquire his fortunes according to the principles of “effective altruism” (EA). Peter Singer has argued, “Effective altruism is based on a very simple idea: we should do the most good we can.” In this spirit, he highlights the potential of wealthy philanthropists to reduce suffering and make the world a better place through outsized charitable donations.

While a student, SBF met with one of the other “stars” of EA, William MacAskill, who sold him on an approach to giving called, “earning to give” – that is, accumulating a fortune only to turn to philanthropy.

Needless to say, SBF bought the pitch, and we all know how this has ended.

But what draws us to this story is how it echoes an overlooked essay by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

Rousseau was, if anything, an even greater intellectual celebrity than Singer and MacAskill. Upon attaining status as a kind of moral guru, Rousseau frequently received correspondence from his admirers, eager to carry out his ideas in their daily lives. But occasionally if he wanted to address a matter not expressly raised in one of these letters, he would invent a correspondent for the occasion. Such were the origins of his brief On Wealth, which was likely written around 1755-56, in which he replies to an imaginary correspondent, whom he dubs “my dear Chrysophile.”

Rousseau’s response reveals Chrysophile’s plan. The “ambitious young man” has decided after reading his guru’s essays to dedicate his life to helping others. Rousseau quotes the fictional admirer, “I aspire to fortune, but it is in order to atone for its injustices. I groan at seeing unfortunate people without being able to relieve them. . . . I attach great importance to wealth that is used to relieve someone else’s misery. . . . A benevolent rich man seems to me to be the agent of the divinity here below, the glory of the human race.” He would, in other words, seek a great fortune in order to serve the poor.

This is almost precisely the argument that MacAskill offered to Bankman-Fried just a few years ago. But one wishes that both parties to that conversation had read Rousseau’s response to his fictional friend, since the Genevan philosopher thinks this is a wretched plan. Rousseau offered numerous reasons to oppose EA, many of which are standard for contemporary critics of the movement. For example, he remarks that extraordinary wealth is frequently obtained in morally dubious ways. Moreover, EA may rely on an unjust economic system that effectively keeps people impoverished and in a cruel state of dependency just so that the wealthy and powerful may glory in giving alms to them. Necessary systemic changes are replaced with charity.

Rousseau’s unique perspective led him to fully appreciate problems that others ignore or elide. More than many contemporary critics, Rousseau understood the psychological paradox at the heart of EA. Wealth creation requires selfishness and greed; charity generosity. After spending possibly decades greedily chasing profits, it is nearly impossible to maintain one’s charitable impulses. Money changes us. As Rousseau tells Chrysophile, “I have difficulty seeing how you will be able to accumulate these profits without deviating from your principles or for how long you must be pitiless in order to become beneficent one day,” and further that “your ideas and your maxims and will change along with your situation.” Upon acquiring great riches, one will eventually do anything to protect and grow one’s own fortune, regardless of the original intentions. Furthermore, great riches disconnect people from the intended recipients of charity. Rousseau observes that those who accumulate wealth come to despise the poor and spare no expense to avoid interacting with them. At the very least, they struggle to empathize with them, for “when one believes oneself above the ills of humanity one no longer pities them in others.” As he would write elsewhere, the path to great fortunes is often paved by the underlying assumption that one is above the laws – a lesson Bankman-Fried would have done well to have considered.

Rousseau concludes with this judgment of Chrysophile’s character: “either you are seeking to deceive others,” wanting them to believe you are a better person than you actually are while pursuing a personal fortune, “or your heart is deceiving you by disguising your avarice to you under the appearance of humanity.”

This essay explores the many flaws of EA as a moral philosophy through Rousseau's insightful lens in one of his more obscure essay. In doing so, we hope to provide both more reasoned scrutiny of EA and also greater attention to a largely overlooked contribution by one of the most important modern thinkers.

Authors

• David Lay Williams, DePaul University

• Michael L. McLendon, California State University, Los Angeles