Review: The Life You Can Save

The Life You Can Save is a book about the philosophy known as “effective altruism.” It’s tough to critique the book without also discussing the philosophy, especially for someone (like me) who was previously unfamiliar with either. That’s why this book review is also a reflection on a moral philosophy.

Author Peter Singer wastes no time introducing that philosophy. Section one (“THE ARGUMENT”), chapter 1 (“Saving a Child”) opens with a hypothetical situation which demonstrates the thesis. Singer asks his readers: will you prioritize reducing the suffering of others above furthering your own comfort?

That might not seem like a very difficult question but maybe only when answered in the abstract. Effective altruism attempts to ground the issue. It’s conception of charity differs substantially from that of Western culture. Where I come from, charity is commonly regarded as a virtuous elective action, but Singer presents it as a moral imperative. He does so with an emphasis on rationality and evidence-based methods. This leads to a stark conclusion:

• First premise: suffering and death from lack of food, shelter, and medical care are bad.
• Second premise: if it is in your power to prevent something bad from happening, without sacrificing anything nearly as important, it is wrong not to do so.
• Third premise: by donating to effective charities, you can prevent suffering and death from lack of food, shelter, and medical care, without sacrificing anything nearly as important.
• Conclusion: therefore, if you do not donate to effective charities, you are doing something wrong.

I personally found this line of reasoning compelling. As I’ve matured (if you can call it that) and accumulated wealth, I’ve become more sensitive to my privilege and more suspicious of my culture’s ability to acknowledge it. Singer’s is a rare voice that says, “maybe you don’t deserve all that.”

Now, despite my tendencies toward shame, I wouldn’t subject myself to an entire book of it. Thankfully, The Life You Can Save is an more an appeal to rationality than to guilt. Singer doesn’t downplay the problems with enjoying luxury in our current world, but he’s ultimately more concerned with helping readers to take action.

It’s just that his final advice is hollow.

At the book’s conclusion, apparently satisfied that his case has been made, Singer reveals a formula that readers can use to determine how much money they ought to be donating to “effective” causes.

Hence in this chapter I propose a much easier target: roughly 5% of annual income for those who are financially comfortable, with less for those below that level, and significantly more for the very rich. My hope is that people will be convinced that they can and should give at these levels. I believe that doing so would be a first step toward restoring the ethical importance of giving as an essential component of a well-lived life. And if it is widely adopted, we’ll have more than enough money to end extreme poverty.

I concede that this standard falls far short of the moral argument I put forward earlier, for it remains true, of course, that most people could, after giving 5% of their income, give more without sacrificing anything nearly as important as the lives they would be saving. So how can I now say that people who give 5% are fulfilling their obligations when they are still far from doing what my argument concludes they ought to be doing? The reason lies in the difference between what I ought to do as an individual and what set of principles, or moral code, I should advocate in my writing and public speaking.

This is followed by advice that seems designed for perfectionists like me:

[…] instead of worrying about how much you would have to do in order to live a fully ethical life, do something that is significantly more than what you have been doing so far. Then see how it feels. If it feels good, keep doing it, or challenge yourself to do a little more. Try to set a new “personal best” in giving. You may find it more rewarding than you imagined possible.

That sounds like a helpful perspective, but the more I thought about it, the more it felt like an apology for the lack of guidance on priority setting.

The central line of reasoning depends on the phrase “anything nearly as important [as suffering and death].” Throughout the book, Singer oversimplifies the idea of prioritization by offering crass examples of self-interested spending. To name a few:

• “buying clothes or accessories that are stylish or fun”
• “buy a new car”
• “renovate your home”
• “mechanical watches”
• “drinks, meals out, clothing, movies, concerts, vacations, new cars, or house renovations”

It’s not that I’m feeling defensive about my new condo (as mentioned above, I welcome constructive criticism regarding my privilege). It’s that there are so many discretionary expenses that aren’t so clearly frivolous or “ineffective”:

• health insurance, life insurance, and home insurance (or home ownership, for that matter)
• political contributions
• overspending to encourage good business practices (e.g. encouraging organic farming) or punish bad ones (e.g. sweatshop labor)
• gifts to loved ones

But Singer mentions none of these. He only just barely acknowledges saving for retirement, and commitment to one’s dependents skirts by with only a little more scrutiny. None of these save lives, but are they all subject to the same criteria? He was far more direct when writing for the New York Times in The Singer Solution to World Poverty: any spending beyond necessities is morally indecent.

That’s a hard pill to swallow, so it’s understandable why he downplays the point for a wider audience (the first edition of this book received a lot of attention, and this second edition has been freely-available since its publication in 2019). He definitely believes we need higher standards, but he chooses to lead people there with a proposal that they’re more likely to consider. Hence, a conservative formula based on pre-tax earnings.

My problem is that it feels too shallow even as a first step. Everything Singer argues is in terms of donating money. He makes no mention of one’s responsibility for action beyond funding “effective” causes. Does he advocate “earning to give” (the term for designing a career in order to maximize profit and thus charitable giving)? Does he see any tension in the choice between working overtime and enjoying leisure activities? How ought one to justify a day spent hiking when there’s money to be made and subsequently donated? Forget taking a second job in our comfortable surroundings: how should one determine whether it’s more effective to join the Peace Corps?

I didn’t open The Life You Can Save expecting to find the “answer” to the basic ethical conundrum. I hoped that I’d learn more about rationally evaluating charitable causes, and I did… But I also wanted to develop a stronger stance on the way I live out my moral obligations. That’s an inherently personal problem, but it’s a philosopher’s job to help others realize ideals in their own lives.

To his credit, Singer’s convinced me that I need to do more, and I won’t let questions about “how much more” get in the way. For that, I’m grateful. I just wish that he had more to offer than a formula.