The Economics of Altruism

It's been a while since I chronicled my life as a Fed, and I hope my loyal readers--all four of you--have not been in want of a glimpse of the fabulous life. Of course, if you are also a Fed, this one will probably ring a little more true for you. Do the letters CFC mean anything to you? To my private sector pals, CFC, or Combined Federal Campaign, is essentially the government's version of United Way. About a month or so ago--although it feels like much, much longer--I started hearing those three letters ripple across the sea of cubes. Since then, they have become so ubiquitous I barely notice as I trip over silent auction items lining the halls of our building.

It has gotten so bad I've begun to contemplate the loss in federal government productivity resulting from the organization of countless CFC-related events occurring in my agency alone. After all, someone has to plan and run the waffle-and-fried-chicken breakfast (I couldn't make that up). Today, I told an older colleague that I thought we should quantify this loss in productivity, assign a dollar amount to it, and just have the agency cut a check next year. I mean I'm no freakonomist, but it seems pretty simple to me.

I'm reminded of a Slate podcast I listened to recently about the economics of charity. Here's the gist: Johns Hopkins recently published a report about the fundamental self-interest involved even in charitable giving. The study concluded that, as a global society, we are more interested in FEELING good than DOING good. That is why people volunteer much more often than they donate money. An excerpt:

"A Dutch banker can pay for a lot of soup-kitchen chefs and servers with a couple of hours' worth of his salary, but that wouldn't provide the same feel-good buzz as ladling out stew himself, would it? Even the way we choose to dole out cash betrays our true motives. Someone with $100 to give away and a world full of worthy causes should choose the worthiest and write the check. We don't. Instead, we give $5 for a LiveStrong bracelet, pledge $25 to Save the Children, another $25 to AIDS research, and so on. But $25 is not going to find a cure for AIDS. Either it's the best cause and deserves the entire $100, or it's not and some other cause does."

After hearing my suggestion for next year's CFC, my older colleague responded, "Ah, it's refreshing to see such cynicism in someone so young." Fair enough, I thought, but I still think that an agency check offers a lot more fundraising potential than hocking used paperbacks for a buck. Perhaps cynicism is the new altruism...

T.G.I.F.

You know you're a government employee when, on Fridays, you send emails to your friends with "T.G.I.F." in the subject line. Does anyone in the real world say anything so lame? Having just completed my third Friday working for the Feds, I have to say I have come to anticipate with great amusement the odd behavior of my fellow co-workers on that sacred day that precedes the weekend. Unfailingly, every ride up the elevator to the ninth floor includes a "T.G.I.F." sentiment to break the awkward silence, just as it accompanies every obligatory greeting from those I pass en route to my cube. I am convinced that perhaps the government's most enduring contribution to society is the invention of "T.G.I.F." Where else would the checking off of another week be so monumental that a catchy acronym would be needed to express the event? (Note: if anyone can come up with an alternative origin of T.G.I.F. please let me know).

Another funny thing about Fridays is that the already sub-standard dress code is relegated to "casual". On my first Friday, I went to work in a sleeveless, black, jersey knit dress, pointy-toe sling backs and chunky turquoise beads thinking I was every bit the "heading to Dewey Beach after work" casual that would be expected of me. However, a woman dressed in head-to-toe bedazzled denim who saw me was quick to suggest otherwise: "Girrrrrrrrrrl, didn't nobody tell you it's casual Friday???" The high pitched voice, the purple beads, and the way she said "casual" in two syllables took me enough off guard to simply shake my head and keep walking.

But the absolute best best BEST thing about working for the government on Fridays, is that next week, I don't have to work at all. I'm officially starting my "compressed" work schedule, which rewards government employees for working what likely amounts to less hours per week than our private sector counterparts (9 hours a day) by giving us every other Friday off. Now that is something worth a T.G.I.F.

The (Un)fabulous Life of a Federal Government Employee

During my first week as a cog in the federal government wheel, I was told that summer interns are being asked to sign contracts saying they will not blog about their work experiences. While I am not an intern, I can assure you that after 2 weeks as a federal government employee, I understand completely why such a pledge is warranted. Stay tuned for stories...