On July 11, more than 4,000 people participated in the 28th Annual Prouty Century Bike Ride and Challenge Walk ("Prouty ride, walk raises $2 million," July 14). I was one of them, and it was an experience to say the least. But throughout the past two weeks, as I reflected on my participation in the Prouty, I found myself considering my motivations and those of my peers.
For some, thinking about why you chose to do something good weeks after you did it might seem rather trivial. This triviality is further pronounced when you compare the importance of one's personal motivation or attitude to the tangible aspects of service, such as funds raised or lives saved. After all, if someone gave you money for a life-saving medication, would you care whether they did it out of altruism or out of some strange, selfish desire for fame or personal benefit? Personally, if someone saved my life and then wanted permanent, visible recognition, I'd be willing to tattoo his or her name on my forehead.
But a fine line seems to exist between recognizing generosity and bribing people to be generous, and this is what I was reflecting on. I've come to realize that people sometimes needlessly concern themselves with the distinction. Incentives and self-interest have their place in inspiring and engaging service.
As a member of a Greek organization on campus, I experienced firsthand what occurred when Wes Chapman '77 Tu'81 offered incentives to encourage student involvement in the Prouty. He provided three different $1,000 prizes to the social funds of Greek houses that had the highest participation rate in the Prouty, raised the most money to donate to the Norris Cotton Cancer Center, or had the greatest number of cyclists who biked 100 miles that day. It's likely that many students would have volunteered regardless of whether a cash prize was offered, but I've rarely seen as much enthusiasm for cancer research as when people were vying to beat out other Greek houses for funds to enhance our beautiful sophomore summer's social scene. Certain houses even made it mandatory to participate, a move that, although based on a desire for social funds, led to greater involvement for a good cause.
Did we cheapen the value of our service in the process? Shall we look back cynically at the thousands of dollars raised, hundreds of hours put in and the miles biked because we smelled the hint of self-interest of those involved? On some level, I believe it troubles all of us when we consider these ulterior motives in service. We would much rather wish for an egalitarian utopia, a Dartmouth where students, staff and faculty alike pour their hearts out in service to one another and love for humanity. I'm sure you've noticed already, but we live in a broken world. I can't help but see incentives like the cash prizes as a way to bridge the gap.
I've written opinion columns criticizing incentives before, and there is legitimate worry in laying the incentives on so thick that our underlying values and goals are compromised. What about the danger on the other end of the spectrum? Have you ever seen the great hesitancy of nonprofit and philanthropic organizations to recruit expensive talent, run well-publicized advertising campaigns or market their causes like many for-profit companies do? Humble service is a beautiful thing, but if we cringe at the thought of tapping people's self-interest to engage them in service, we miss out on a vast segment of our world's population.
As I look back at the Prouty, I am inspired and thankful as the funds continue to trickle in, approaching the race's goal of raising $2.25 million for the Norris Cotton Cancer Center. Hundreds of students and I played our part in fundraising and participating in the Prouty's physical challenges, even if we needed a little monetary nudge. Whatever our motivations and whatever we learned along the way, it wasn't about us at the end of the day. It was about the work we did, a small contribution to honor and support those who have done so much in their struggle against cancer. That is something the whole Dartmouth community can celebrate.
