But we all know the dangers of giving morphine for the relief of pain. It never cures a disease; it only stifles a symptom. It gives delicious ease; but the need for its use soon recurs. Hence there is always danger that before long the patient will have to fight, not only the disease which originally caused him pain and made him call for morphine, but the morphine habit in addition. This is all familiar. But not every one realizes that the giving of money in case of poverty is as dangerous as the giving of morphine in sickness. Money like morphine satisfies an immediate need and hence is eagerly welcomed by the sufferer. But of money as of morphine it is true that a single dose soon makes the patient call for another, and often a larger dose; that it soon makes the patient dependent on this sort of relief, and so forms a dangerous habit. With the rarest exceptions, to give money or to give morphine does not cure. The state of things which produced the pain or the poverty is sure to recur. For (as I have said above) the patient's belief that his present troubles are an unforeseeable accident, a sudden catastrophe, is almost never true. The truth is that his pain or his poverty are but the last chapters in a long story produced by causes which can usually be traced out, and whose future action can often be foreseen. By giving money we are covering up a smouldering fire, not quenching it.
For economic bankruptcy or breakdown, like physical bankruptcy or breakdown, is generally the result of faulty organization in the system of income and expenditure. Physically a person breaks down because he has been spending more energy than he can recoup by rest, food, and recreation. Economically he breaks down because his scale of expenses exceeds his regular income. Hence it gives but temporary relief to pay the bankrupt's debts, to cancel the sufferer's pain. The operation will soon have to be done over again unless some constructive plan for increasing his income or decreasing his expenditure can be worked out. Giving creates dependence because it atrophies industrial and moral initiative, just as a crutch or a splint causes muscles to waste. Powers unused atrophy. If we support a person, except temporarily, he will soon lose the power of self-support.
But the point of view impressed upon us by the sufferer himself is apt to be quite the opposite. What he wants is something immediate and temporary for the relief of something accidental. The beggar who meets us in the street has "accidentally" lost his purse and asks of us a small sum of money to reach his home. Often I have said to such an applicant, "Meet me at the railroad station half an hour before the train leaves for your home. I will buy you a ticket and see you on board." He never comes. This is an extreme instance and involves almost always a deliberate attempt to deceive us. In home visiting it is not like this. The sufferer does not usually intend to deceive. Nevertheless his misfortunes are pictured by him as accidental and temporary catastrophes, maiming a life which needs no general reconstruction. He is so sure of this that he is apt to force the idea upon us unless we are alert, bracing ourselves to question it and to make sure that it is true. But actual experience has shown me and hundreds of others that this point of view is almost never true.
It is not chance that the family is just now poor. It is no emergency which we are summoned to meet. It could have been foreseen long before and it will certainly recur unless we can trace out its causes and prevent their acting as they have hitherto. Hence the detailed, prolonged, individual study of the family's economic state is necessary. One must find out, first of all, all the details of income and outgo. The family is likely to forget some of these, so that one must be ready to assist their memory.
Further, one must inquire carefully into possible sources of help from relations, friends, fellow members in some club or association, and so forth. For next to self-help the help from those naturally bound up with one is best. Compared with impersonal charity, it is less artificial. It is less destructive to the natural family relationships which it is always our ultimate ideal and our immediate job to maintain or to restore so far as possible. Whatever disturbs or threatens them is hostile to the social interests for which we labor.
Naturally one does not invoke the help even of family, friends, or fellow club members, unless it seems impossible for the individual, under the best plan that he and you can think out together, to get along without outside help. But if we are convinced that, for the present at any rate, this financial self-maintenance is impossible, it is to securing help from those nearest to the sufferer that one should look with least regret. Gifts or loans from members of his family or from friends are more likely to be taken seriously by the recipient. He is less likely to feel (as he does with an impersonal agency or charity fund) that he can draw from a bottomless pit of money without making any one else the poorer. Moreover, when he takes money from his brother or the fellow member of some club, the pressure for regaining his economic balance is likely to be exerted from without him as well as from within. He feels the pressure of his debt and thereby is stimulated towards regaining his independence.
The sufferer's "catastrophic" point of view, which tends to isolate the present trouble from all its causes, to represent it as temporary and accidental, is related to his tendency to state that he has no friends, relations, or social connections through whom help could come to him. Without any deliberate attempt to deceive us, he quite naturally forgets some of his relations. He does not want to appeal to them. Hence they fall into the background of his mind, and are not easily recovered. When one finds them for him he is apt to say, "I did not think of him because I am not on speaking terms with him"; or, "I would not on any account take money from her, or allow you to ask her to help me." But such a sufferer may very properly be asked, "Why is it that you are willing to take money from me, a stranger, or from this impersonal charitable agency, when you are not willing to call upon your own relations nor even to let them know that you are in trouble? You are concealing it from them, are you not? Is there really any good reason for this? Will it not be easier for you, as well as for them, that they should know at once? Are you not really storing up trouble for yourself, postponing the evil day which, when it comes, will be worse than anything which you would have to bear at present?"
Of course, in all such advice we intend to say nothing that we should not wish to have said to ourselves. The social worker tries to treat people always as she would wish to be treated. But one cannot always avoid giving pain or even estrangement. Because such interviews are necessarily difficult and may result in disaster to the relationship that we are trying to establish, they should be postponed if possible until we have already established in other ways a friendly understanding, a structure of friendship which will bear the strain of penetrating inquiries such as these economic matters necessarily entail.
I have said that the first guide to helpful economic relief is a realization of its danger. The next is awareness of the advantages of self-help and the truth that next to self-help, assistance from those naturally and nearly related to one is best.
The third principle, by following which we may hope to do the greatest good and run the least risk of harm in our giving, is this: never give hastily except in extraordinarily rare emergencies such as acute hunger or exposure to the elements. In all other cases give in accordance with a plan worked out as carefully as may be, whereby we are confident that our giving can be temporary. Sometimes we can arrange that it shall come to an end automatically. That usually means that we arrange for a loan rather than a gift, with repayment either by instalments or in lump sum upon a definite date.