Ice Ice Baby: The Ice Bucket Conundrum

From The Archives ~2015

I hadn't been nominated for the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge. And this wasn't a call out for nominations; I wasn't lamenting that I hadn’t been chosen, nor would I necessarily have turned my nose up had I been, but I was fascinated by the myriad of opinions—everyone had some kind of stance— and wanted to understand the thing. This was my exploration, back when it was a phenomenon:

It has raised around £48M (at the time of first draft), but it has been criticised for taking money away from other causes. It has engaged people’s creativity and unity, but it has been criticised for being about seeking attention. Even Stephen Hawking has done it. (Well, sort of.)

It has caused a surge in ice sales, sparked pleas for Water Aid donations given the wastage of clean water, inspired a rubble bucket challenge — a Palestinian journalist’s homage to the original challenge, seeking to share awareness — and people have become injured participating. (No deaths, apparently, although it’s not certain.)

Shut It Down

When I first came across Lincoln Humphries’ broadcast, where he declines to take part in the challenge, it was on Facebook and accompanied by the comment, “newsreader completely shuts down the Ice Bucket Challenge with style”. Admittedly, at this stage most of the challenge videos I’d seen barely mentioned the cause, and so people were critical — reminiscent of the #nomakeupselfie backlash.

His suggestions to donate blood, adopt a pet, and shop at charity shops — instead of wasting fresh water — were all pretty fantastic, but why are some people so keen to “shut it down”?

In terms of backlash, as far as I can see, there are some thought-provoking criticisms.

Taking Money Away From Other Charities

Whether you prefer to see it as sharing the love or view ALS as taking money away from other charities, there’s the awkward question about whether or not this going viral has prevented other (in some people’s opinions, more worthwhile) charities from receiving donations.

What makes a charity more worthwhile is something that breaks into an almost market norms vs. social norms discussion — would financial investment be better placed into the bigger killers or the lesser-known, therefore lesser-funded, organisations? Which organisation needs more awareness? How far will your money go when donated to a larger or smaller campaign? Is money better donated to a worldwide cause, a western one, or a developing world issue? Basically, whose lives do you value more? Which illness is worse? Who is most deserving? (That all sounds awful.)

“80,000 hours founder William MacAskill say[s], ‘Donating money to the best developing world health charities will reach at least 100 times as many people than if you donate to developed world health causes.’” — I fucking love science.

— from ifuckinglovescience.com

Julia Belluz’s infographic, based on USA stats, at least indicates a few things — which campaigns are most successful at fundraising (or popular), is one interpretation. It gave me pause to see where people donated most versus which diseases kill us most. (Especially given the lack of understanding demonstrated at the news of Robin Williams’ death; suicide was the fifth largest killer on the board, only a small number short of breast cancer, and yet bottom in terms of donation.)

Whilst there are bigger killers than ALS, it’s worth pointing out that the fewer sufferers there are, arguably, the less incentive there is for pharmaceutical companies to invest in a cure.

Moral Licensing

William MacAskill’s article, “The Cold Hard Truth About The Ice Bucket Challenge”, suggests that this campaign is guilty of “funding cannibalism”. He shares, “Because people on average are limited in how much they’re willing to donate to good causes, if someone donates $100 to the ALS Association, he or she will likely donate less to other charities… So, because of the $3 million that the ALS Association has received, I’d bet that much more than $1.5 million has been lost by other charities.”

It comes down to moral licensing — since you’ve done one good thing, you can chill out on future goods, hence the phrase, “my one good deed of the day”. (When did we decide to limit our good deeds to one a day, anyway?) And this brings us back to the original question, which charity is more worthy of your money? It is a deeply personal decision, and one that cold economics might not answer for you when soul searching.

For every ice bucket video out there, there’s likely a nay-sayer who thinks another cause is more important. Yet, to counter this, many are dual donating to highlight another cause as well.

Wasting Water

Another criticism of the campaign is the waste of clean water. Matt Damon’s video, accepting the challenge, highlights how privileged we are (in the Western world) to be able to run a tap and fill a bucket of clean, drinkable water, only to waste it. He chooses instead to use toilet water, which he also points out is actually cleaner than the water most people in the developing world have access to.

Mashable has even gifted us with a list of alternatives to water, which sort of leads to the next debate — the hijacking the ALS campaign for alternative causes. (Not a critique of the challenge in itself, but another interesting question that has come from it.)

Is It OK To Commandeer A Hashtag?

Macmillan Cancer Support have been accused of hijacking the #icebucketchallenge hashtag, which began with their retweeting of an ice bucket challenge video and has since seen thousands of people take up the challenge for their cause, raising them enough money for them to fund a Macmillan nurse for one year.

Hashtags certainly aren’t owned by anyone — since the conversation is designed to be open — but it raises a moral question. (One that the ALS charity were trying to answer by trademarking the challenge, but have since ceased.) Indeed, Unicef even ended up working with Cancer Research UK to have erroneously donated pledges sent to the right place due to thousands of #nomakeupselfie snafus — people who texted “DONATE” instead of “BEAT” sent their money to the wrong charity. (It isn’t the same problem exactly, but it shows a sense of ownership within a viral campaign.)

Is it fair to say that if it’s a movement, not a campaign — the essence of going viral — that it’s fair game? Perhaps, since it is arguably not owned outright, we must accept that this is how innovation works: You can’t control something viral because people can, and will, take it and propel it and make it their own. Is The Death Of The Author at play here? (If a reader becomes an author, does an uploader become a co-owner/co-creator?) At what point does the internet take over and simply own something? The nature of the challenge allows people to innovate, but does that discount a moral argument to stay true to the original cause?

The Money You Donate Doesn’t Fully Go To ALS

If it were true about the money, I’d be unhappy with the situation. But, taking a deeper look into this article, it seems it’s not as cut and dry as that.

Politicalears.com worded their title, “ALS Foundation Admits That 73% Of Donations Are Not Used For ALS Research”. The figures detailed in the article show that, as of January 2014 (figures from before the hashtag went massive, so not exactly an admission), 32% went to public and professional education, 27% went to research, 19% went to patient and community services, 14% went to fundraising, and 7% to administration.

So far, so not a big deal — that spending breakdown existed before this phenomenal amount of money was raised, and spending will likely be different going forward, given such a huge amount to deal with. Besides, it looks like it wasn’t too bad a breakdown, right?

Fortune.com states, “ALSA has measured up fairly well in trying to meet those expectations [of watchdog groups, who rate and accredit charities based on how they spend their donations]. According to Charity Navigator’s latest report, for instance, ALSA earned the highest four-star rating, in part, for spending 72% of its fiscal year 2013 revenue on programs and services; 11% went to administration costs while fundraising expenses ate up 16%.”

Politicalear also make mention of the six-figure salaries of the big wigs in charge, which are gasp-worthy and massive, but this is the standard for most charities — another debate entirely, you might argue. How many pennies of your pounds go directly to the cause you intend is also a concern applicable to all charities. (That’s not to say they shouldn’t be kept in check.)

Narcissism And Counterculture

So, why so much hate? Do you get angry the instant you see another video in your feed? Do you know why? I only began looking into ice bucket challenge criticism because so many people seemed against it. And, it mostly seemed that folks were irked because everyone was doing it or because it was clogging up their feed. I started wondering if people had only sought to criticise it merely because it was so popular — a kind of backwards confirmation bias.

Is the reaction linked with counterculture and breaking away from the popular opinion? Reacting against the bandwagon effect? Counterculture is no bad thing — going against the mainstream has sparked various innovative and interesting movements. (And from that, art, change, and more.) But, counterculture against something that, at its heart, is philanthropic seems nonsensical — contrary for the sake of being, well, too cool.

Sure, the culture of celebrity is bigger than ever. If we perceive people’s ice bucket challenges to be narcissistic, specifically about vanity and attention, then it seems a natural reaction to dislike them. When people post videos — no matter how creative — and don’t even mention the cause, it appears to be about coveting kudos. Such bandwagoning is unattractive.

But, what harm if it’s a video (inventive or otherwise) that just pays it forward (to ALS or elsewhere)? Narcissistic or not, charity has been given, which is good, right? Perhaps it’s the mixture of altruism and celebrity that leaves a poor taste in people’s mouths.

Is Altruism Worth Less When We Tell Everyone About It?

Is that money less valuable when everyone knows you donated it? Does that act become rendered less charitable with every like and share you get? Is an altruistic act less altruistic when we tell everyone about it? Perhaps it goes back to the old adage that there is no selfless act; by doing something selfless, you still gain something — even if it’s privately feeling good. The more celebrity the cause or individual video gets, the less each effort means, because fame appears to cancel out the philanthropy.

Does that stems back to pride (which isn’t too far from arrogance and peacockery) being labelled an ugly quality? Cynicism often comes first when we see a celebrity or politician doing good. The question is, then, why should charity be something private?

A Lesson From The Past

Humble brags. Selfies. Ice bucket challenges. Maybe that’s exactly what 21st century charity needs — pride, unashamed delight, charitable vanity, and viral unity. Certainly, that’s partly the way this cause has raised so much money and awareness. And, whether or not it inconvenienced your Facebook feed for a few weeks (we’re moving so fast nowadays that a day of it was enough for some people), perhaps positivity — rather than cynicism — should become our knee-jerk.

Charity wasn’t always seen as more palatable, or worthwhile, in private. The era in which Britain was, arguably, most giving also saw philanthropists openly celebrated for their efforts; it was a time when charity was applauded loudly and proudly, affording do-gooders a chance to make their mark in history too. It was also an epoch where many long-standing charitable organisations were developed, “e.g. the National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children (NSPCC) and the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (RSPCA).”

Although this age of beneficence could be criticised for being about chasing legacy, the means by which philanthropists did so benefited those less fortunate — today, fame comes by much less munificent means. And that’s not to say that every Victorian do-gooder chased legacy first. Maybe our cynicism needs a revolution, a 180. We often dislike it when fame comes from doing good — it’s unseemly — but we applaud it (or, in some cases, simply consume it) when it comes from most other means.

Feeding The Age Of The Skim

It’s worth pointing out (and fair play if you’ve stuck with me this far) that counter to the above point, perhaps viral action will damage charity in the long run. Given concerns that we’re engaging less and less in a deep and meaningful way — particularly in this link-bait age — apathy for these movements may shortly follow. If moral licensing is a legitimate concern, even massive viral campaigns of the future may fail to break through to our hearts and wallets. Maybe we need to slow down, engage more, and put the hard work back in. In terms of charity, perhaps we need to value and celebrate effort over viral infamy and the future selves of others over Zeitgeist.

Finally, Because Awareness

Would you have even thought about ALS had it not been for this campaign? I’ve looked at the cold maths, I’ve considered moral licensing, I’ve seen water wasted and the water shortage highlighted. I’ve considered where the money goes, whether it’s narcissism we really hate, and whether altruism is worth less when celebrated. Not one of these discussions would have taken place, here certainly, without that first bucket of ice being playfully poured over Peter Frates’, all in the name of fighting a good fight.

I’ve tried to write this blog in a way that doesn’t guide opinion, yet I couldn’t help but end the latter half of it with my own personal sway. Overall, it seems to be about this — the conversation, the awareness — that’s important. I’ve doubtlessly missed angles worth exploring, but this latest viral craze has made two things very visible to me:

— That ALS is a terrible thing, and regardless of the maths or the infamy, I can’t find it in me to feel negative about the awareness and money raised.

I can’t not be moved by Anthony Carbajal’s video.

— That the way we look at charity may well need changing, from looking at whose lives we view as throw away and how deeply we engage with altruism, to taking our current obsession with fame and putting it, finally, to good use.

Update From May 2017

I won't go so far as to rewrite everything Business Insider looked into, but it's good news. Nope, the millions of pounds raised did not all go to big pharma or some other such conspiracy. 67% of the $220M went to research. Read more of the breakdown here.