While I’m heavily involved in the Effective Altruism community, this essay explores a question outside of EA’s typical scope: How can we use an impact-focused mindset to improve our own lives by making our local communities flourish?
This isn’t a critique of EA, but an expansion of its core toolkit. As a non-utilitarian who cares deeply about my immediate environment, I’ve been working on a framework for “spillover altruism”—the practice of making strategic personal choices that create positive externalities for those around you. This post is my exploration of that idea. I welcome any suggestions, compatible ideas, or critiques you may have.
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I care. I care a lot. I want to live in a more pleasant world, in a society with greater human flourishing. And I actually care enough to try to do whatever I can (within reason) to make this happen. Most people reflexively dismiss such idealism as leftist nonsense or the product of a mind ungrounded in reality and economics, but I’m not a leftist and am well versed in economics. I just really do care.
But I’ve been stuck. One of my most asked questions is, if we are so rich, why are we so unhappy? Why does so much of our modern society seem so unpleasant? When tens of millions enthusiastically support Trump on the promise of burning it all down, why did our material success lead them to be so miserable and feel like society failed them?
So my question is simple but rarely asked: what is the highest impact thing I can do to make those around me happier and to live in a more flourishing community? I am not advocating for a form of Effective Altruism, as I am strictly concerned with the well-being of those around me. I want to make my life better by making those around me happier and by living in a nicer and more pleasant place.
My thinking on this has evolved. In an earlier iteration, I thought the solution was YIMBYism and influencing public policy, and while housing availability remains a hugely important issue, I felt there must be more I can do. Most people who care about improving society focus on either changing institutions or changing other people. But I’m interested in a third path. This is the foundation for what I call spillover altruism: the practice of strategically changing oneself to create positive externalities for others, making it easier for them to live fuller, richer lives.
My sad view is that our society has become fundamentally amoral. We have no civic or government leaders that are actually trying to improve our lives as individuals. Individuals try to get richer and gain status, businesses try to grow, politicians try to gain power and re-election, but nobody is actually working with the explicit goal towards making your life and community more pleasant. We have a lot of ‘influencers,’ but none are trying to meaningfully improve your life. I’m fed up and want to change this.
My theory of change begins with a sober assessment: it’s very unlikely we can convince the majority of people to change in healthier, more pro-social ways. What I believe is possible is to change myself. Rather than trying to convince people to change, I can adopt behaviours whose positive effects spill over into my community, helping evolve social norms toward better outcomes. The key insight is to stop thinking vaguely about “being a good person” and start thinking strategically about the social contagion of our daily actions.
So to work backward, what does the community flourishing promised by this framework actually look like? It’s a society where there is more cooperation and cohesion. To be in a society with less segregation and fewer people unworthy of your respect. A society where people are happier and feel like they are living fuller and richer lives. I want a society where people have more social connections, a larger community, more on their calendar, and more people they are close with. I want people to live healthier lives, less dependent on bad vices, where people feel rich in culture, passion, family and friends.
So how does this framework of spillover altruism work in practice? The core principle is to analyze your personal choices not just for their effect on you, but for their norm-setting and spillover effects on your community.
To use an example of what I am thinking about, take alcohol: I suspect alcohol is a net bad for society. While you may tolerate it without harm, each person who drinks makes it more or less likely others will drink. The same is true for social media platforms that you view as harmful and that depend on network effects, like Twitter and TikTok. Your engagement makes it more likely others feel the need to engage. To the extent possible, avoiding these is likely a pro-social act.
Using public goods, like taking public transit or using city parks, has significant positive externalities. Same with riding a bike. The more people who use these resources, the more investment they get. More critically, especially in the US, the more ‘normal’ people using these services help impose better norms, which in turn helps make these services less prone to disruption or crime, making it more likely others will want to use them.
Similar to the Jewish Shabbat, I think everyone should have one fixed, recurring date where they host people at their home with a completely open invitation. When you have this in your calendar, it’s much easier to invite others you wouldn’t otherwise make plans with. “Hey, I have a weekly Sunday breakfast where people always stop by, can you make it?” is an easier sell than a formal one-on-one invitation with the new person you start talking with at a concert or on a bike ride. This routine creates continuity and makes it easier for those with fewer socialization opportunities to be included. Critically, this makes it more likely for people in your network to meet and form their own social connections with others you know.
Being physically active is incredibly important for one’s well-being. So maybe in line with the above, one should also have a designated social activity oriented around sports with high health benefits that are low-cost and accessible, like running or hiking. A solo run doesn’t influence many people, but hosting a weekly group run or hike encourages others to gently start being more active and builds community simultaneously.
The biggest idea I’ve been thinking about, which is the most controversial but I suspect would have the greatest impact, is to pledge to spend no more than a certain amount of your income per year. The exact amount would depend on local factors, but likely some fixed amount that would be tied to the median income in your community. The reason is simple: the more one person spends, the more they change the wants and desires of those around them. This consumption contagion leads to an insatiable thirst for more, no matter how objectively rich people become.
This large spectrum of consumption is also problematic. For example, in a rich society, only the wealthy can afford to see their professional sports team play; in a poorer society, almost everyone can afford to see their local team. By spending less, we help normalize affordable shared experiences, making them more accessible to everyone. We have enough rich people to price many goods out of the reach of most people. Furthermore, a wide fragmentation in consumption levels means fewer goods and services are available on the cheaper end of the spectrum, as they are in less rich countries. It’s actually hard to spend less in the USA because the market for affordable alternatives has been eroded. When you spend less, it makes it easier for others to spend less, thereby reducing their wants and needs for as much income.
I feel comfortable suggesting this because the diminishing returns to spending are so steep. Many people would consider working three days a week, taking more vacation, or pursuing a less lucrative but more meaningful job, but they feel they can’t afford to be this “poor.” By shifting norms around consumption, we lower the opportunity cost of not optimizing for material wealth above all else. A hoped-for benefit is that fewer talented people would feel compelled to take highly remunerated jobs they don’t care about, and more would dedicate their time to roles they feel enthusiastic about that pay ordinary salaries, a common sight in many countries outside the US, and an extremely positive thing for society.
As a corollary to reduced expenditure, I think this should be followed by an obligation of a “local altruism budget,” for example, spending 10% of one’s annual income supporting local entities they care about. This could be the youth soccer club, the local bike store, a cafe you like, your favourite struggling artist or the repertory theatre. These are the things that add tremendous social and cultural value, making your life much better, but are often not financially viable in our hyper-competitive world.
Each of these examples demonstrates the same underlying principle: individual choices create social permission structures and norm-shifting effects within our local communities. By strategically choosing behaviours that make positive choices easier and more normal for others, we can create cascading improvements in our local social environment without requiring anyone else to consciously change their values or priorities.
I think an argument for local altruism is that the good you produce will indirectly return to you, which makes the good-doing sustainable. Otherwise, if the help only flows in one direction geographically, sooner or later the good-doers upstream will burn out, or may get in a situation where they need help, but there is no one to help them.
The problem with first-order effective altruism is that it doesn’t include these effects in consideration. For example, if there is a high-earning person who sends tons of money to EA charities which save 1000 people a year, then if a situation happens that you have to choose between saving this 1 person or saving 100 other people, instead of the first-order equation “100 is more than 1”, you should consider that saving this 1 person means indirectly saving 1000 people every year (that is, until this 1 person gets in trouble again).
However...
...this is not an argument for indiscriminate local altruism. If we go like “okay, let’s include the higher-order effects of ‘by helping this person, we indirectly help these people, too’”, that is… mathematically speaking, trying to find eigenvectors in the matrix of mutual help, I guess… but in a plain language, it means to prioritize the people who help others. So still, no charity for cute puppies, and probably no support of art or sport. (Unless an effective altruist can convince you that the extra art or sport can make them X% more productive, which translates to Y% higher income, which means Z% greater donations to effective charities.)
This, done properly, would probably rub many people the wrong way even more than current effective altruism does. Because it would mean judging your neighbors, and declaring some of them worthy of more help than others. “Sorry, dude, we won’t contribute to your heart surgery fund. Seriously, teaching children math and computer science, are you stupid? Just give them a link to Khan Academy. I don’t care about your little child’s surgery either. Now this guy here, he is an effective altruist who saves 1000 people every month, and could save 10 more if he could get home from his job faster and get a few more minutes of extra time for his hobbies. So we are saving the money for his new car, slightly faster than the current one.” OK, this is exaggerated, but you get the point.
And yet, I think that a softer version of this might actually work. Something like providing a support net for local altruists, both effective and the classical ones. For example, providing them free therapy to prevent burnout, or a free place to stay at should they need one; organize networking. (Then I remember some people’s outrage at Lighthaven “walled compound”, so there’s probably no way to avoid being hated.)