Moral Ambition, by Rutger Bregman

This book made me uncomfortable. In a good way. Has it changed my life? Actually, yeah.

Rutger Bregman’s Moral Ambition calls on readers to quit our corporate jobs helping the rich horde yachts. Instead, we should use our big brains and ambitions to help solve some of the world’s most pressing problems.

And those of us with no corporate jobs to abandon? We, too, have a role to play. 

After all, humanity is simultaneously facing existential threats from the next global pandemic, runaway AI, catastrophic climate events, and the oldie-but-goodie, nuclear war. Plus, there’s the unfortunate rise in authoritarianism and the fact that more than 800 million people across the globe are barely surviving on less than $3/day. 

While many people are already working on these issues, Bregman makes the case that not nearly enough of us are. Meta will be just fine without another brilliant mind devoted to tweaking advertising algorithms. But our world will not be fine unless more brilliant minds think up and implement solutions to current and pending crises.

But not just any solutions. Moral Ambition goes beyond simply calling for people to do good. We shouldn’t simply follow our passions. Better instead to think carefully about how to tackle problems that are sizable, solvable, and sorely overlooked. Consider issues that plague not hundreds but millions, that have solutions that simply haven’t been implemented yet, and that don’t already have mainstream attention. 

Next, Moral Ambition encourages us to assess our own strengths and use them in ways that are hard to replace. Take the example of Lucia Coulter. Trained as a medical doctor, Lucia clearly had already devoted herself to an ambitious career doing good. However, if she weren’t practicing as a doctor, someone else would probably provide those same services. In contrast, when she decided to found the Lead Exposure Elimination Project, by lobbying Malawi to restrict lead in paint, she tapped into a way to exponentially multiply the number of lives she could save versus the career of a doctor.

Side Note: If you’ve at all followed the Effective Altruism (EA) movement, Lucia’s example will be familiar to you. Moral Ambition reinforces many of the key tenets of EA, and includes many references both directly and indirectly to familiar voices in the EA ecosystem, such Coulter and Rob Mather, founder of Against Malaria Foundation. Possibly, Moral Ambition is an attempt to rebrand Effective Altruism, which took such a painful reputational hit after the whole Sam Bankman-Fried scandal. I’m fine with that.

Despite the inspiring examples throughout the book, I had a guilty tang in my throat while reading much of it. I suspect Bregman would be glad to hear it.

Here’s the thing. I’m a few decades into my career already. Other than a few stints waiting tables during college and grad school, I’ve never worked for a for-profit. I’ve always prioritized doing good. And hopefully, I’ve helped change lives for the better. 

And yet, how many more lives could I have helped–perhaps even saved–if I’d been more strategic? When I look at the impact-per-dollar of organizations such as the Against Malaria Foundation, I know that no project I’ve worked on has ever come close to saving that many lives at that price point.

And if that weren’t enough, Moral Ambition also makes the case for expanding our moral circle further still, to include other animals. I did not like that. The depth of misery of any one animal in a factory farm actually makes my stomach hurt, not to mention the sheer scope of the issue–as in one hundred billion (with a b) per year.

Can’t I just sit this issue out?

Unfortunately, Bergman made a compelling case to not do nothing: Think of all the free people living during legal slavery who felt uncomfortable about it, but did nothing. Do I want to be one of them?

(Pause for uncomfortable squirming.)

Well, no. I do not. 

And so it’s the book’s compelling ethical foundation and clear-eyed calls to action that at times made me wish that I was instead reading The Thursday Murder Club series (truly, these are the best cozy mysteries and pro-aging books I’ve ever read).

But alas, I can’t unread it. 

I suppose I’ll change my life as a result.

How? TBD. I’m currently coleading a group of peers exploring how to apply Moral Ambition’s ideas to our own lives. If you’re interested in something similar check out The School for Moral Ambition, which has abundant resources and opportunities to connect with others on a similar journey.

As Bregman’s epilogue notes, “Carry the weight of the world on your shoulders and sooner or later, you’ll buckle. And that doesn’t help anyone.”

Or, just reach out to me if you’re thinking about these heavy ideas. Everything’s lighter when the load is shared.