By
Christopher Mogil
I've come to enjoy thinking about
everyday ethical money questions. But it hasn't always
been that way.
For years I felt I was practically breathing
the questions— they came so fast and furious: Do I
buy this cup of fair-trade coffee (even though I don't
like the taste so much)? When buying property with friends,
how do we share the ownership in a way that feels "fair,"
given our very different means? How much do I gift (and
bequeath) to my child vs. how much do I give to others in
greater need? Do I ask for a bigger salary, even if I don't
personally need so much? Do I make sure my stock proxies
are voted? Do I commit some of my giving to community-based
foundations that are democratizing philanthropy by putting
diverse community representatives on their boards and also
give to projects run by my friends? Whether I'm thinking
about spending, investing, earning, giving, or leaving a
legacy, there are lots of complex questions. And of course,
each question, whether small or large, leads to a host of
others.
The decision-making process started to get
more fun for me after:
(1) I stopped focusing on what a bother it all was and started
appreciating how lucky I am to have so many meaningful choices.
(2) I started tackling lots of questions by deciding what
I wanted to do for now in these areas, knowing I could always
change my mind later. I lifted some of the ethical burden
by recognizing that most of my decisions were a work-inprogress
and I could make them more intelligently over time, with
input from other thoughtful people. (Having a community
like MTM has come in handy here!)
(3) Plus (ah, true confessions!), I worked to drop my judgment
of other people. Although I could sometimes entertain myself
with self-righteous scorn of others, my pleasure was so
much greater when I actually connected with people and sought
to understand how they made their choices. Then, comparing
notes with others became much more free and interesting.
My stance shifted to, "How do you think about these
things?" instead of, "Do you agree with me?"
(4) I decided that instead of sweating all the small stuff
or worrying about not being ethically pure, I would concentrate
on some area I could really get excited about putting energy
into over time. My notion was that if my choice came from
some honest-to-goodness personal enthusiasm (as opposed
to grudging dutifulness), I would be more likely to stick
with that choice a lot longer—and maybe even inspire
some of my friends to want to try it, too (which, in turn,
would make it even more fun for me!). My personal guideposts
have been building community and sharing resources. (I have
chosen to put energy into these areas in both my personal
and work lives). Other areas of concern I have let recede
or ripen gently in the background.
Christopher Mogil is co-founder of More
Than Money. He is an awardwinning writer, workshop leader,
and organizer on issues of wealth and philanthropy.
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