Phony philanthropist,

humanitarian hypocrite,

deceptive do-gooder,

fraudulent altruist,

charitable pretender -

however you describe them,
one thing's for sure:

There are few things in life
that we hate more

than moralizing hypocrites,

people who ask us to do charitable acts
but are themselves hypocritical.

Now, in my line of work,

working with charities,

social enterprises,

foundations, and aid agencies,

I hear the word "hypocrite" all the time.

When Bono,

the sunglass-wearing, tax-avoiding,
mansion-living, jet-setting Irishman,

when he asks people to donate to charity,

what do we say?

We say, "Hypocrite!"

When Al Gore campaigns on climate change,

a man who many years

has had a utility bill
more than 20 times the average household,

we say, "Hypocrite!"

When the CEO of the Kony campaign

was, on one hand,
asking us to donate money

and saying he cared

but, on the other hand, was taking home
a charity salary of $90,000,

we said - you guessed it - "Hypocrite!"

You see, we hate hypocrites.

We hate people who purport
to have certain beliefs

that we don't actually think they have

when their actions
don't reflect those beliefs.

And I want to ask us,
"Should we call out people for hypocrisy?

People who we think are hypocrites,
should we give them that label?"

Now, I hate genuine hypocrisy
as much as the next person,

but I want to suggest -
and this is a big "but" -

I want to suggest
that calling out people for hypocrisy

is misguided at best,

downright dangerous at worst.

The key problem here

is that often when we accuse
people of hypocrisy,

it's not actually hypocrisy.

And there's a few common mistakes
that we make time and time again.

The first mistake that we make

is that we assume that
all charitable acts are equivalent.

Say someone tells you
that they support a carbon trading scheme.

We interpret that as just that person
supports the environment,

and so if they don't recycle,
we say, "Hypocrite!"

If someone asks you for money
for water purification tablets

for a country like Myanmar,

we assume, oh, that person
supports fresh clean water,

and so if they don't themselves
give money to build water wells,

we say, "Hypocrite!"

But the reality

is that there are multiple different ways
of solving every problem,

some that are far more
effective than others,

and just because you support
some approaches to problems

doesn't mean you can or should or will
support every approach.

That's the first mistake we commonly make.

The second problem
that we often come across,

the second mistake that we make

is that we compare to the extremes
of selflessness and selfishness.

Say you walk into a cafe,

and there's a sign on the wall that says,
"We donate 20% of our profits to charity."

You'd probably think,
"What a great café! What good people!

Donating a bit
of their profits to charity."

And so when we have mostly profit-making,

mostly selfishness but a bit of altruism,

we like it, we think of it
as a good thing.

But then if someone works for a charity,

if someone dedicates
their entire career to a good cause,

if someone is mostly selfless

but then takes home
a reasonably decent salary,

we say, "Hah, hypocrite!"

So we're fine with mostly selfish
with a touch of altruism

but not mostly altruistic
with a touch of selfish.

You can be 10% altruistic,

but you can't be 90%,

which doesn't make any sense.

We prefer honest greed
to imperfect generosity.

We compare to the extremes

rather than comparing people
to other people.

That's the second mistake.

The third mistake we make

is that we assume

that because someone supports
a collective response to something,

individual action must follow.

And so if a politician says

that they support
government-provided education,

but they send their kids
to private independent schools,

we say, "Hypocrite."

If someone was to say they supported
a global ban on meat consumption,

and yet they themselves ate meat,

we might say, "Hypocrite."

But the reality is it's totally rational

often to support a collective response

without necessarily wanting
to be the one to act alone,

to act individually, to bear the cost.

It's very rational.

For example, if you act in a certain way,

such as by taking really short showers

or taking the train instead of a plane
to save on carbon emissions,

you bear the full cost of your action,

and yet the benefits
are dispersed by seven billion people.

And so in order for it to be rational
for you to do that,

the benefits really need
to be seven billion times the cost,

which is rarely going to be the case.

That's why initiatives such as Earth Hour
often don't have a sustained impact.

It's not hypocritical to be rational.

The fourth mistake that we often make

is that we assume
that if someone really cares,

if someone really wants the best outcome,

they'll necessarily support
the ideal policy.

So when Kevin Rudd,
the former Prime Minister of Australia,

said climate change is the greatest
moral challenge of our time,

and then he supported
watered-down environmental legislation,

we said, "Hypocrite."

But the reality is sometimes
you need to be strategic.

And if that ideal policy,
if the ideal situation

would not receive parliamentary support,

if that would be scrapped
by the next Parliament in a year or two,

then sometimes opting
for the second-best approach

is actually more sustainable
and actually better

and actually has a greater impact.

Another common mistake we make
is that we conflate legality and morality.

If someone was to stand up
and say they opposed prostitution,

they thought prostitution was wrong,

and yet then they voted
for it to be legal,

we might say, "Hypocrite."

But questions of legality and morality
are very different.

You see, if making prostitution legal

meant that victims of abuse
could come forward

without fear of persecution
or prosecution,

then it might be the right thing to do,

irrespective of whether you thought
it was morally right or wrong.

Likewise, it's entirely consistent
for someone to say

that they themselves,
say for religious reasons,

don't believe in gay marriage,

but for that same person to say
they think it should be legal.

Because questions of legality
also take into account

other people's beliefs and opinions
and sexual preferences.

We shouldn't conflate
legality and morality.

And the final mistake that we often make

is we just don't distinguish
between different circumstances.

When Obama came out and said

that having armed security in every school
wasn't the answer to gun violence,

the NRA responded,
not by attacking the argument,

but by attacking the person.

They ran ad campaigns,
saying that Obama was a hypocrite

because he had armed security
for his daughters.

We often don't distinguish
different circumstances.

My point here is that often
when we accuse people of hypocrisy,

it's simply not hypocritical.

We assume that we know people's beliefs,

we assume we know why people
are acting in a certain way,

but it's often arrogant to assume that.

We're too quick to condemn,
too slow to ask why.

But let's assume for a moment
that it was hypocritical,

that these people did actually act
in a hypocritical manner.

The problem here is that
the existence of hypocrisy

doesn't actually undermine
the argument that is being made.

It's a convenient distraction,
but it's not a rebuttal.

I mean the argument that smoking is bad

doesn't change because the person
who is making it is a smoker.

You can know right or wrong
without being morally perfect yourself.

And you should be able to ask people
to do what is right.

That shouldn't just be
the purview of the morally perfect.

And so, if we shouldn't
call out people for hypocrisy,

if we shouldn't focus
on the charitable messenger,

what should we do?

I want to say

that we should discuss and debate
and critique the charitable message.

Now, with me I have two jugs.

One of those represents the person,

one of those represents
the messenger in question,

and the other one represents
the argument, the message.

Now, when we call out people
for hypocrisy,

when we use that hypocrisy argument,

when we use it to attack a person,

this is what happens.

It's easy to make them bleed.

It's easy to inflict pain.

After all, they're a fallible person.

But what's interesting

is that we don't discuss,
we don't critique,

we don't criticize the charitable message.

And so that's the status quo,

that's the situation we find ourselves in,

where attacking the charitable
messenger is all too easy

and attacking the charitable
message is often taboo.

Why is this?

Well, I think we often think of charity
as somewhat of a taboo subject.

We don't like criticizing it.

Indeed, we just think of it as doing good.

That's why you can do a lot of things
in the name of charity.

(Laughter)

If you want an excuse
to do a naked calendar,

do it in the name of charity.

If you want an excuse to do a marathon,
do it in the name of charity.

If you want an excuse
to make three of your friends,

to force three of your friends

to pour a bucket of ice cold water
over their heads,

(Laughter)

do it in the name of charity.

You see, we find it difficult
to criticize acts of charity.

We think of charity as one and the same,

but not all charities are created equal,

not all approaches to problems
are equally effective.

One of the things
that the organization I run,

180 Degrees Consulting,

specializes in

is measuring the social impact

of different programs
and different organizations,

and it's very clear to me

that some approaches, some charities,

are hundreds, even thousands, of times
more effective than other approaches.

And so what that means

is that it's more important
to do the right act,

the most effective act,

than to merely do an action.

An action is merely a means to an end.

We focus on it when we accuse
people of hypocrisy,

but focusing on the impact
is far more important.

It's far more important

because in a world with unlimited problems

but limited time, limited resources,
and limited money,

we can't afford to not have
the greatest social impact possible.

We can't afford it.

We can't afford for doing good
to merely be a feel-good endeavor.

It must be an intellectual
endeavor as well.

Let me give you one example.

Say you have $42,000,

and you want to spend that money
helping blind people.

You can spend that money
in a few different ways.

One way is by not giving it at all.

The second way is by using the money
to train a guide dog.

It cost about $42,000
to train a guide dog.

And the third option

is that you can use it
to fund a low-cost eye surgery

in a place like India,

which costs about $75 per surgery.

And so with that $42,000,

you can either help no blind people,

one blind person,

or 560 blind people.

I do not think it should be taboo

to argue that you should not give money
to training the guide dog,

as cute as guide dogs are

and as important guide dogs are
for the people who use them,

and that you should instead
give money for the low-cost eye surgery.

I know that sounds bad.

It sounds unethical.

It almost sounds evil.

Once we've done the effective approaches,
we can do the less effective approaches,

but I don't think
less effective approaches

should come at the expense
of the more effective approaches.

Because as long as it is taboo

for us to talk about the impacts
of different charitable acts,

more people will be blind,

more people will be poor,

more people won't have access
to health, education, and sanitation,

and that is something I cannot stand for.

I want us to have
the greatest impact possible,

and I don't think
we'd have that greatest impact

by focusing on hypocrisy
or focusing on the messenger.

We have it by focusing
on the charitable message.

That's the most important thing.

Let me conclude.

Time and time again, when we can,

we target the messenger, not the message;

the campaigner, not the campaign;

the person, not the argument.

The exact opposite should be true.

The key point that I'm trying to make here

is that charitable messengers
should not be the target,

and critiquing charitable messages
should no longer be taboo.

Small minds rebut people;
great minds rebut arguments.

I think Eleanor Roosevelt would agree.

So the next time

that a politician, a celebrity, a friend,
a religious leader, a charity worker

asks you to do something
that you don't want to do,

I want you to respond
by rebutting the message,

not the messenger.

The next time that a friend
calls out someone for hypocrisy,

I want you to tell them,
"Rebut the message, not the messenger."

By focusing on the hypocrisy
of the messenger,

we're being misguided,

but by focusing on
the validity of the message,

we're being productive,

we're helping to maximize impact.

And that is a cause worth fighting for.

Thank you.

(Applause)