TGIF: On "Giving Back"

P&G, the maker of popular household brands like Tide and Downy laundry products, is giving away $10,000 in college scholarships. That's $1.5 million and 150 scholarships in all. My problem, aside from its encouraging college attendance, is with how the company is promoting the program. The television ads proclaim that the company sees the scholarships as a way of "giving back." I've written about this before, but some further thoughts might be useful.

So, to whom does P&G wish to give back? Not to existing customers exclusively. The only eligibility requirements are U.S. residency, a minimum age of 16, enrollment in or acceptance by an undergraduate program, and free registration at P&G's website. The online application does ask applicants if they are first-generation college students and where they do their laundry, which sounds creepy. The program is called a "sweepstakes", and multiple entries are apparently allowed, so the winners are apparently picked randomly. The winners' checks will be sent to the schools.

The "payback" angle that P&G touts will sound good to many people. ("Aw, that's so nice.") I suppose P&G never even considered entries by saying:

Because we at P&G are always looking for ways to increase our profits by creating goodwill, keeping our current customers from looking at rival products, and luring new customers from our competitors, we are giving away 150 scholarships worth $10,000 each. We'd prefer you to just buy our great products, but if that's what it takes to get good publicity, so be it. Enter today!

That would offend too many people, though pro-market and pro-free-enterprise people like me would be approvingly amused. Why call it "giving back"? Unearned guilt, what's why.

Adam Smith famously wrote that we do not believe the grocer puts food on the shelves because they are nice people (which of course they may well be). They do it because that's how they earn a living. Smith wasn't being pedantic. He was acknowledging that shoppers already know this. He writes, "We address ourselves, not to their humanity but to their self-love, and never talk to them of our own necessities but of their advantages." (Sometimes we talk of our own necessities, for instance, when we can't find what we want. But we know the grocer doesn't help us out because he loves us.)

The "logic" of payback addresses the matter from the seller's, not the buyer's, side. Smith could have addressed grocers by writing:

It is not from the benevolence of the customers that you expect your income but from their regard to their own interest. You address yourselves, not to their humanity but to their self-love, and never talk to them of our own necessities but of their advantages.

Telling this to merchants would hardly be necessary. No merchant thinks his customers are doing him a favor by shopping in his store. A salesperson asks customers, "How can I help you," not "Here's how you can help me." It's true that when transactions are complete, both the merchant and customer typically express gratitude. It's what John Stossel calls the double thank-you moment. That's an interesting peculiarity of markets. The people on both sides of the counter seem grateful. Each party knows that the other could have been somewhere else. But at the same time, each knows that the other is (properly) acting in his own self-interest. Maybe that is why we are all grateful. Or maybe we're unwittingly approving of the harmonization of diverse interests in a market setting.

P&G and every company that claims to be "paying back" act as if they think we're stupid -- that we buy to help them out and so are owed something. But I don't think that's what such companies really believe. I think they talk about payback because they, like nearly everyone else, suffer from antimarket bias. Even business people have absorbed the view that profit-making is exploitative. To assuage the guilt, they "give back" to their victims. That is sad. It's also wrong. In the absence of coercion, fraud, and government favors, no exploitation occurs.

When two people trade, we know that at that moment each is confident he is getting more than he is giving up. The trade would not happen otherwise. Afterward, one or both may have regrets, but that's a fact of life when you're fallible. Note, though, that in our competitive economy, sellers, eager to win customers, accept returns, no questions asked. That was unusual not so long ago.

As for the seller's profit, in its financial sense it results when buyers value a product so much that they are willing to pay more for it than it costs others to make and provide. It's a reward for the welfare-enhancing service of correcting price discrepancies.

Profit's bad reputation is unearned, But it's not true that only sellers can make a profit. Buyers do also, though in a non-financial sense, because they prefer the thing they obtain to the money's alternative use. Moreover, to the extent that they pay less for an item than they were willing to pay, buyers make an additional profit. No exploitation occurs, of course.

Trade is the harmony of interest on glorious display, and we should celebrate that freedom makes it possible. Now if only we could find a way to get the favor-granting politicians and bureaucrats out of the way.

TGIF: Free Exchange Is Win-Win

With the possible exception of the political class and its cronies, most of us would be healthier, wealthier, happier, and freer if the public knew how to engage in "the economic way of thinking." The late Paul Heyne, who wrote a popular textbook by that name (now in its 13th edition thanks to Peter Boettke and David Prychitko), summarized the economic way of thinking by writing, "All social phenomena emerge from the choices of individuals in response to expected benefits and costs to themselves."

I think of Heyne's title whenever I encounter an example of failing to understand this. Unfortunately, our society is rife with examples and resulting bad government policies, which tells you a lot about why we suffer periodic hardships like the current inflation. The lockdowns during the COVID-19 pandemic were a spectacularly tragic example of the failure to engage in the economic way of thinking.

Other instances of that failure are so thoughtless as to be ludicrous. Take the wealthy business owner who donates a large sum of money to a worthy cause. The fallacy occurs when the donor or someone else inevitably says that the charitable act was motivated by a wish to "give something back," presumably to society or the community.

What's wrong here? It suggests that the donor wants to show gratitude for his fortune by reciprocating. But that makes no sense because the donor's wealth was not the result of people handing over money as a favor and getting nothing in return. Those people were customers, not donors. They bought something they wanted and must have liked the terms of exchange. So there is nothing to pay back. (I have in mind only people operating according to just-market principles: no force, fraud, or favors coercively provided by politicians.)

In the marketplace, profits come from voluntary exchange, which requires that buyers and sellers freely choose to transact business. Why would they do that? They do it because each party expects to benefit -- to be made better off -- by giving up something they own for something that they would rather own. This is clear with barter, but it's equally true when one party trades money. Money, a medium of exchange, expands the opportunity for exchange by enabling people to get what they want even when they don't have the particular items that their available trading partners want.

When Smith trades a sum of money to Jones to acquire shoes, Smith demonstrates that he prefers those shoes to anything else he might have feasibly used the money for, including holding on to it. Jones demonstrates the opposite preference.

Unfortunately, since they are fallible, Smith or Jones (or both) might realize later that he made a mistake. That's life, but it does not change the fact that at the moment of exchange, both sides expected to gain. If they are right, they have a happy win-win, or positive-sum, situation. Both sides profit, not just the one who obtains money because both come out ahead. (The competitive quest for profit has brought us liberal return policies, so the fallibility problem long ago became much less severe. John Stossel likes to point out that at the supermarket, both checkout clerks and customers typically thank each other.)

Free exchange produces mutual gain. If we could quantify the gain (we can't), we would say that after the exchange, the two people have more total value between them than they had before the exchange. This is remarkable, considering no new stuff was created by the transaction. Possession of the product and the money simply changed hands.

To put it qualitatively, we can say that through the exchange, both parties climbed higher on their respective value scales, giving up a subjectively lower-ranking value for a subjectively higher-ranking one. (What counts is how the parties evaluate things.) For this to occur, we need first, two parties with different preferences and, second, freedom, including property rights. Before you can justly trade something, you must own it.

In light of the two-way gain through free exchange, the wealthy seller has no reason to "pay back." He is successful because he provides value to his customers, who are happy to exchange their money. 

It's too bad that people who earn fortunes justly are made to feel guilty about their success. (Ayn Rand and Ludwig von Mises did their best to teach honest producers they had nothing to be ashamed of.) We consumers never feel guilty about the profits we reap. Why should the sellers?