The Tribune

By DIANE PHILLIPS

EVERY circle of friends, every office, every school, civic club or church has them – the folks who show up and do what is expected of them, but rarely, if ever, can be counted on to say, “I know you need a hand, I’ll stay late.”

Getting angry with them doesn’t work. They showed up, didn’t they? They performed the assigned task, didn’t they? Then they left.

So what’s your problem? Why are you expecting them to do more?

What causes some of us to go the extra mile, to listen to someone’s question, take their issue to heart and determine to help solve it, while others shrug their shoulders, walk away and figure it’s not their problem? Why trouble themselves?

We encounter these two different personas in both public and private places, in just about every government office, school, or clinic: the staff member who barely gives you the time of day (and may even stay on their phone looking down at whatever holds their interest while you are standing before them trying politely to get their attention) and the individual who will search for the document you need, even if it cuts into their lunch hour or keeps them there after time to clock out.

We experience the difference daily between the givers and the takers. The ones who draw the line and call it “boundaries” and the ones who see people and needs, and for whom the boundary has elasticity.

Mind you, boundaries can be important. Without them, there’s no guardrail. But when that guardrail becomes the map, pathway, and guiding light--reducing everything outside that route to a blur or darkness--the boundaries justify a hard stop that signals loudly and silently: ‘Don’t look at me for that extra help. I’m on my time and I’m all about me. Look elsewhere if you want someone to go the extra mile. My day ends at 5.’

The giver and the taker

What causes one person to be the giver and another to be the taker? What separates the altruistic from the inwardly-focused and self-absorbed? Why is it in every organization you know ahead of time when you propose a project, who will lead, who will volunteer, and who will be ‘too busy’ this time or look the other way?

Is it the culture of the organization, office, school, hospital? Or is it just the individual and his or her personal values?

That’s an important question. If you can identify whether existing culture or selfishness (call it “boundaries,” if you prefer) is a predicter of behaviour, you know who’s going to go far, who will succeed, who deserves extra training, an increase in salary, or a bonus. Would that same person who is the last to give of themselves in one set of circumstances be the first to give in another? Or is a lack of caring about others a harbinger of failure to care, regardless of place and time? Is selfishness concrete, like part of the building blocks of a soul, a stiffness that supports the unbending human, whose path is straight and narrow and does not veer to one side or the other to help someone stranded on the sideline?

The question of why some people seem to have an altruism gene in their DNA--while others are all about themselves--troubles me. Is it upbringing and surroundings, what you witnessed others around you doing and experienced in your family eco-system? Does it stem from watching someone you admire, or someone close to you, volunteering at a feeding centre or extending themselves without thinking about it to help an elderly person cross a busy street or find a home for a lost dog?

Or is it simpler: are some of us just altruistic by nature and others just plain self-centred?

Basically, this is what it comes down to: do you have the capacity to feel what another feels? The pain that will cause you to assist the old man struggling, hesitating to cross that busy street. The need to complete the task at hand even if it is after the 3 o’clock school bell or the 5 o’clock office closing time. The need to locate and process that document even though it’s your lunch hour.

Dopamine and oxytocin

The most rudimentary research leads to a popular theory called the empathy-altruism hypothesis. It’s as basic as it gets – suggesting that genuine empathy leads to genuine altruism.

If you don’t feel the other person’s pain or their need, you are far less likely to help. But if you do empathize, the trigger to help is right there ready to be deployed. In an article called “The psychology of altruism” (https://www.psycix.com), the author describes what behaviourists have long said: giving comes with its own set of rewards. From the article:

Here are a few sneaky rewards we might get from being altruistic:

Helping can strengthen our bonds with others. That sense of connection? Priceless.

So even when we say we're not looking for anything in return, we still benefit in subtle ways. Does that make the act any less noble? Not at all. It just means that giving and receiving can go hand in hand.

So, if going the extra mile gives your brain a rush of feel-good chemicals, reduces stress and strengthens social connections--and if we know from volumes of research that people with friends are happier than people without — then why, with all the up sides of giving, why aren’t we all givers instead of takers?

Just in case social connections--a rush of feel-good chemicals and less stress--is not enough of a combination to lure the taker over to the side of the giver, there’s a fourth reason. The taker will only go so far in any organization that rewards staff or crew based on merit rather than seniority.

The raise will go to the one who says, “I’ll stay late. I know you need a hand.”

Thinking back on it, it’s not so different from what your parent or teacher taught you as a child: share your toys. Or what a dear friend always reminded us of before he left this world too soon: to share a joy is to double a joy, to share a sorrow is to half the sorrow.

That’s not a bad thing to remember this holiday season.

And the best thing we can share is the best of ourselves. We don’t need a shopping list. All we need to do is unwrap the goodness inside each of our hearts, set aside the boundaries, and begin to show empathy, because it’s empathy that brings out the altruism in all of us.

Somewhere beneath the layer of boundaries lies the good giver, the one who felt better as a child when they shared the toy and made a friend, the one who will feel better as an adult when they give of themselves without expectation of reward (though a little dose of dopamine and a feel-good sensation never hurt anyone.)

The giver is in all of us. Happy holidays.