Christmas – a yearly test of helping

Every day, across the globe, someone asks another person for assistance on average every 2 minutes and 17 seconds. Small requests for help, such as handing over objects, preparing a meal, or moving heavy items, are fulfilled almost instinctively. We comply with such requests seven times more often than we refuse them. These conclusions were drawn by a team of Australian researchers led by Nick Enfield, who in 2023 observed the daily lives of over 350 people - families, friends, and neighbors - from various countries, including Ecuador, Laos, the USA, Ghana, Italy, and Poland. Despite the participants representing different cultures and value systems, the tendency to help was remarkably similar across all groups. One might venture to say that the inclination to help is encoded in our DNA, an innate feature of our operating system - regardless of where we live, the color of our skin, or our religious beliefs. 

However, this conclusion may be too hasty, considering the relatively small sample size and the fact that Enfield's team focused solely on individuals in close relationships. After all, we are less likely to refuse help to family or friends and more inclined to extend even the smallest gestures of goodwill toward them. In contrast, we are not always as open, kind, or willing to assist strangers. How we respond to the needs of people completely unfamiliar to us reveals the differences in motivation and willingness to help. From this perspective, helping is no longer a universal behavior or one that is easily explained. 

Every country has its custom of helping

In countries with individualistic cultures, such as the United States, help often takes on a formal and institutional character. Americans are eager to engage in charitable activities and volunteer work, but they often do so primarily for personal benefits, such as career development or enhancing their own image. In collectivist cultures, like that of the Japanese, help is more focused on small communities and family or neighborhood bonds. Supporting loved ones and local communities is seen as an expression of gratitude, or even an obligation.

Sometimes, the willingness to help is motivated by religion. In Hinduism, the concept of "sewa" (selfless service) encourages believers to assist those in need without expecting any reward. In Middle Eastern countries, philanthropy is also strongly tied to religion. "Zakat" or the obligatory almsgiving to the poor, is one of the pillars of Islam. There are also communities, such as Mongolian nomads or Arctic Inuit, where helping others is simply the foundation of survival in extremely harsh conditions. Similarly, in the Philippines, where natural disasters frequently occur, a strong social culture of helping has developed, particularly for those who suffer due to the destructive forces of nature.

Caution: help-free zone

Culture, religion, upbringing, and prevailing social norms may encourage helping others, but in some cases, they categorically prohibit both giving and receiving assistance. In certain ethnic groups in North Africa and South Asia, accepting help is interpreted as a sign of weakness or dishonor. In India, despite the concept of selfless service, the caste system restricts helping individuals from lower social strata. Violating this etiquette is considered an insult and a disruption of the established social order. In North Korea, receiving outside help is outright banned for political reasons. Meanwhile, the inhabitants of North Sentinel Island perceive humanitarian aid as a threat to their independence and respond to it as a danger, sometimes even with aggression. 

At the beginning of the 21st century, Robert Levine and a group of researchers studied how residents of 23 major cities around the world reacted to situations where help was needed. Experiment participants deliberately dropped a pen on the street, simulated a leg injury, or pretended to be a visually impaired person trying to cross the road. Averaging the results from all three scenarios, the highest percentage of people showing concern for those in need was recorded in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, and San Jose, Costa Rica. In both cities, over 90% of passersby attempted to help. Conversely, in New York City and Kuala Lumpur just over 40% of individuals provided support to the actors. While culture undoubtedly influenced the results, dominant factors in this case turned out to be the degree of anonymity in large cities, the fast pace of life, and levels of stress.

Circumstances matter

Levine’s experiment demonstrated that helping others is not solely determined by culture but depends on a variety of circumstances. In a study by John Darley and Daniel Batson, theology students were divided into two groups. One group read the biblical parable of the Good Samaritan and then wrote a speech based on it. The other group worked with a neutral text, also intended to serve as the basis for a speech. The participants then moved to another building to share their reflections. Along the way, they encountered a man lying partially on the ground, groaning and clearly in need of help. Interestingly, the content of the text they had just read did not influence their likelihood of helping. Instead, the researchers introduced another critical variable: participants in both groups were given either little, moderate, or ample time to reach the next building. The more rushed they were, the less likely they were to help the man in need. In this case, the deciding factor in whether or not help was provided turned out to be time pressure.

In another experiment conducted by Darley and Bibb Latané, participants witnessed a situation where a stranger gave incorrect directions to a traveler on the subway. Half of the participants spontaneously corrected the misinformation, helping the traveler. However, the percentage of helpers dropped dramatically - to just 16% - when, in a second trial, the same traveler had been observed being rude or aggressive toward other passengers. Assistance was also significantly less likely when researchers used makeup to disfigure the traveler’s face. In the first scenario, the emotional cost of helping was minimal. In the second and third scenarios, the cost was much higher, resulting in far fewer reactions.

Investing in helping

When we talk about costs, it implies that some calculation occurs when deciding whether to help. How does this align with our perception of helping as a noble, almost romantic ideal? According to many researchers, when we help others, we often aim to help ourselves as well. Robert Cialdini and his colleagues conducted an experiment in which participants were induced into a sad, neutral, or happy mood. Before being asked for a small favor, all participants were given a pill (actually a placebo) that supposedly "froze" their mood for 30 minutes. This had little effect on the "neutral" and "happy" groups, who willingly offered their help, but the "sad" participants showed much less enthusiasm. Many of them reasoned that since helping would not improve their mood (which was supposedly "frozen"), there was no benefit to taking action. So, how does helping really work? Do we act spontaneously and intuitively, or do we calculate benefits and losses? Why do we help at all? To answer these questions, we need to look back in time - way back to the dawn of humanity.

In the small groups in which early humans lived, helping was primarily based on reciprocity: I help you, you help me. Hunters would often share their catch with the group to "bargain" for other benefits. This also served as insurance for times when their own hunts were unsuccessful. In such cases, they could count on receiving food from another hunter who had been more fortunate. Based on this dynamic, Robert Trivers developed the theory of reciprocal altruism in the 1970s. This theory posits that helping others benefits the helper, provided the help is reciprocated. This reciprocity doesn’t have to be immediate; it can be delayed, which makes helping akin to an investment or a savings plan for the future. Reciprocity works both ways, so when someone has previously extended a helping hand to us, we feel obligated to return the favor. In this way, helping involves a kind of intangible transaction. 

Three cousins are less than one brother: The genetics of helping

In the evolutionary perspective on helping, the transmission of genes plays a crucial role. William Hamilton developed the theory of inclusive fitness, which is rooted in a rather obvious observation: we are most inclined to help those closest to us. The degree of relatedness is key here. Imagine you jump into a fire to rescue family members from a burning building. In this heroic act, you lose your life. According to Hamilton, this would result in a genetic gain - but only if the people you saved were your parents, siblings, or children. There’s no genetic gain, however, if you sacrifice your life to save cousins or aunts. Such a valuation of life or calculation of how many cousins are "worth saving" might raise moral questions, but it fully supports Hamilton’s theory. It also reflects a pattern that has existed among humans for millions of years: the propagation of one’s genes, not only directly (through one’s own reproduction) but also indirectly (through the reproduction of close relatives).

Where are emotions in this "genetics of helping" and these cold calculations? Emotions can also explain Hamilton’s assumptions. The closer the relative, the more time we spend with them and the more we like them. We feel a stronger bond and emotional closeness, so it’s no surprise that we prioritize helping these individuals. In one experiment, participants were asked to endure an uncomfortable posture. The longer they endured, the more money they earned. When they were told the money would go to distant relatives, they gave up quickly. They lasted much longer when they knew the funds would go to close family members with whom they had regular and meaningful contact. Interestingly, participants endured the discomfort and physical pain the longest when they were working solely for their own benefit.

Helping – a five-act play

The desire to help may stem from the principle of reciprocity, familial bonds, emotions, empathy, or even the need for recognition and appreciation. Regardless of motivation, when deciding to help, our brain goes through several stages of information processing that condition our behavior. When a neighbor asks us to hold the door or a coworker requests help reviewing a report, the decision-making process in our mind is often brief, typically ending with an automatic green light to act. However, the more complex and ambiguous the situation, the more data our brain needs to evaluate - especially in crisis scenarios for which we are often unprepared and that may demand risking health or even life.

Whether we intervene in such circumstances depends on the fulfillment of five conditions. Failing to meet even one of them ultimately prevents us from helping. The first stage is simply noticing the situation, such as seeing a man lying on the street. At the second stage, we must decide whether we are dealing with an emergency. Is the man merely a sleeping homeless person? Is he drunk? Or has something serious happened, like losing consciousness? This is a difficult and deceptively tricky moment for our brain, which is often influenced by others. More specifically, it is affected by what scientists call pluralistic ignorance. This occurs when witnesses to a critical event assume nothing is wrong because none of the other observers are reacting. If the man lying on the street does not attract the attention of other passersby, a thought may cross our mind: “He’s probably fine, maybe just drunk”.

Pluralistic ignorance is particularly dangerous because it can lead to the diffusion of responsibility. The third crucial step in providing help is accepting personal responsibility for assisting the victim. This becomes significantly easier if there are no other people around the man and yourself. In such a situation, there is simply no one else to whom the responsibility can be shifted. However, even this is not enough to ensure action. The fourth stage involves evaluating our competence. We see the man lying down, we recognize that the situation requires intervention, and we understand that no one else will step in. Yet doubts or even fear may arise about providing first aid: "I've never done this before, I don't remember the steps, I might make things worse". If we cannot swim, no matter how strong our desire and immediate reaction, we are unlikely to jump into a pond where someone is drowning. In both scenarios, we are unlikely to turn away and pretend nothing is happening. We may run to get help or call emergency services, but the chance of assistance arriving in time is significantly reduced.

The fifth and final stage is the result of completing all the previous ones and involves taking action. Perhaps we ourselves (or someone close to us) have been in a similar situation before. We often read about acts of heroism and life-saving interventions in the media or see such scenarios depicted in movies or TV series. It seems that these actions happen impulsively, as if we act mechanically, intuitively, and decisively in extraordinary circumstances. However, it turns out that such quick, outward responses are the result of a meticulous and complex thought process occurring within our brain. This serves yet another reminder that helping others is not as straightforward or simple as it might initially appear.

Pure or mixed altruism?

When we contribute to a fundraiser for sick children or shelter animals, we’re not typically expecting someone to send money to our account in return. Helping a woman with a stroller board a train or bus doesn’t involve mentally breaking down the situation into five key stages. If our mother asks us to do the grocery shopping, our motivation isn’t genetic gain in this instance. Not every act of kindness or goodwill can be explained scientifically or requires a cost-benefit analysis. So, does truly selfless help exist? Can we speak of pure altruism, untouched by personal gain?

If we were to ask scientists or philosophers, most would likely answer in the negative. Robert Trivers wrote about reciprocal altruism, where helping depends on a returned favor. Richard Dawkins, in The Selfish Gene, presented altruism as behavior driven by the survival of genes rather than the individual. For evolutionists like Dawkins and Hamilton, altruism in the sense of "genetic selflessness" essentially doesn’t exist. Philosophers such as Thomas Hobbes and Friedrich Nietzsche argued that all human actions, even those seemingly altruistic, have hidden selfish motivations. Psychology offers the concept of apparent altruism, suggesting that actions for others yield subconscious or hidden benefits for the individual. Perhaps the purest form of altruism is found in the work of Daniel Batson, who asserted that people help others out of pure empathy - genuine concern for another’s suffering, with no expectation of personal gain.

While scientists differ significantly in their approaches to altruism, they agree on one point: helping others improves our well-being and makes us feel better. Yet, isn’t this itself another personal benefit that “taints” pure altruism? On the other hand, can we say with certainty that anything in our world is entirely pure? Even the cleanest air contains microscopic impurities, just as distilled water does. In 24-karat gold, trace amounts of other metals are present, and every diamond - no matter how stunning or flawlessly cut - has tiny imperfections. And even if our altruism’s “imperfection” lies in improving our mood or boosting our self-worth, it doesn’t change the fact that the willingness to help is a medal-worthy trait. A gold medal, no less.

Do Poles help each other, and how?

This doesn’t mean that (almost) pure altruism, like a diamond, is immune to external impurities. I recall a situation where, on my way to the store, I encountered an elderly woman from a neighboring building who asked me to carry her groceries to the third floor because the elevator in her building was temporarily out of service. Naturally, I eagerly picked up her bag and headed toward the entrance, but before I could get there, another woman (perhaps a friend or neighbor of the elderly lady) stepped in, snatched the bag from my hands, and firmly announced that she would carry it upstairs. She then hurried the elderly woman along, and the two disappeared through the door. At first, I felt awkward, and then simply hurt. In this woman’s eyes, I was a potential thief, looking to either steal the groceries or gain access to the woman’s apartment to take far more than just some food items. If a similar situation were to happen again, I wouldn’t refuse to help, but this time, the five-stage process of calculating risks and benefits would certainly start running in my mind. This time, I would have to overcome certain doubts. 

Fortunately, Poles generally have fewer reservations about helping others. According to a 2023 study conducted by Biostat for DKMS, as many as 71% of Polish residents provide selfless help. They most often offer their time to others (66%), assist with daily activities (42%), or provide emotional or financial support (27%). Younger people (aged 18–24) are the most likely to offer emotional and psychological support or volunteer their time, while older individuals tend to prefer offering material or financial help. When asked about the emotions they experience while helping, the majority of respondents (over 60%) said they feel satisfaction. Other common responses included joy (56%), a sense of being needed (46%), the feeling of improving someone’s life (41%), pride (33%), emotion (30%), and a sense of agency (28%). When asked why they help, the most frequent response - given by more than 58% of participants - was: "Because it makes me a better person".

Helping – the perfect Christmas gift

In recent years, the desire to be better people and the general willingness to help have faced serious and demanding tests - first during the pandemic, then in response to the war in Ukraine. This year, we were tested again on our solidarity and readiness to assist when floods struck the southern parts of the country. December holidays, though on a smaller scale, serve as an annual exam of kindness, goodwill, and helping others. And it’s a test we don’t fail - or at least that’s what the statistics suggest. According to research by PSH Lewiatan conducted in collaboration with SW Research, about 90% of respondents consider helping others an important part of Christmas. More than half admit to supporting family, friends, and neighbors during this time. Additionally, 42% of Poles donate food, clothes, or other necessary items, while 38% contribute money to charitable causes.

Why are we so eager to help during or just before the holidays? Surely, the unique aura of these few December days plays a role. It’s partly a matter of tradition, social norms, and religion (even the Holy Family received help). But it’s also about ending the year on a positive note and in good style. Another factor is how helping others boosts our own sense of well-being. The more we help and the more people we involve in these efforts, the easier it becomes to share pre-holiday responsibilities. This ensures that not all tasks fall on one person. Everything can be planned without time pressure, tension, or mutual grievances. This way, we can sit down at the holiday table in a friendly atmosphere, with the feeling that we’ve each contributed something to creating this special mood.

Of course, there’s always the risk that while helping with household chores, you might hear your dad complain that the Christmas tree is crooked, your mom grumble that you’re mixing the salad incorrectly, or your spouse lament that you bought wrapping paper with polka dots instead of snowflakes. But mistakes happen only to those who act. During the holidays, it’s worth doing as much as possible for others because - as it turns out - in doing so, we also do a great deal for ourselves.