As a Matter of Fact, I Can Spare a Dime

I meant to write this around the holidays, but got busy as usual and relegated it to the pile of essays written only in my imagination. But the subject same up on a friend’s Facebook status today, so I figured I’d come back to it. His question: “If a homeless guy walks into Subway while you're buying a sandwich, and asks you to buy him some food, would you?”

My answer: Yes. I also tend to give dollar bills to the Street Sheet seller, the guy who’s usually outside the Safeway, and a fair number of other individuals I encounter who seem to be having a rough time of it. Everyone has their reasons for refusing beggars, and I’m not out to judge. Nor do I think that my own reasons for giving apply in every situation. But for me, none of the typical admonitions against giving to panhandlers holds up. Here's how my mind handles some of the common objections:

Giving to panhandlers isn’t right, I give to charities instead. If everyone who said this really followed through, we wouldn’t be seeing homeless shelters closing for lack of funds and food banks facing critical shortages and spikes in request for help. I’ve heard the same people make this, then turn around and complain about charities’ administrative costs. Each method of giving has its advantages and disadvantages. So why not do both?

If I give a money to every homeless person who asks, I’ll end up broke myself. How many people really ask you for change every day? Two? Three? Even when I took the el to and from downtown Chicago every day, I don’t think I ever had more than four people ask me for change in a single day. And I have “bleeding-heart sucker” stamped on my forehead. If it really will break you, only you can know that. But if you’re reading this on a computer at your home or office, chances are a buck won’t bankrupt you.

He’ll probably use it to buy alcohol or drugs. So what if he does? Desperation is desperation. My refusing him a dollar isn’t going to break his addiction. If I were unemployed, marginally housed, and reduced to begging, I’d want a drink, too.

Some of these people make more than $20 an hour doing this. The idea behind this objection is that most people asking you for money aren’t really needy; they’ve just found way to make a living that’s easier than working. There’s just one problem with that theory. Standing outside all day asking people for money isn’t easy. If given the choice between that and your current job, what would you pick? If you really think begging is a better gig that whatever you’ve got, why not try it out for an hour? And think about the fact that it’s a job with no sick days, no health insurance, no worker’s compensation. While you may find the occasional prankster who just wants to see what he can get away with, the likelihood that the person asking you for change is scamming you is pretty unlikely. A scam artist won’t beg, he’ll try to sell you something. Like the chance to invest with his hedge fund.

The only thing that dissuades me from giving is if my personal safety feels threatened. Being generous doesn’t mean risking your safety, or even your wallet. If I’m going to have to dig through my purse in on an empty or poorly lit street, I will say I’m sorry, I can’t help you tonight.

This, at the end of the day, is all that we owe anyone who asks us for money. Whatever your reasons for not giving, you haven’t done anything wrong if you refuse. But the least we can do is give an honest refusal. If you can’t look the person in the eye to refuse them, if have to just pretend you haven’t seen or heard them--why is that? If the answer is that you feel bad for saying no, there’s a way to rid yourself of that shame.