(a) Loans. It is in the hope of rendering service by these means that there have been organized philanthropic loan associations which lend money at low rates of interest and sometimes without interest or upon security which the commercial loan companies would not accept. The sufferer with whom we are dealing may know nothing of the existence of such agencies. If so, to connect him with one of them, to help in furnishing the security necessary to negotiate a loan, may perhaps be the best way in which we can help. Or one may buy some rather expensive article such as a piece of medical apparatus, with the clear understanding that we are to be repaid in instalments or at weekly intervals.
(b) Tools of a trade. Another example of the kind of giving which comes to an end and does not tend to form a habit like the morphine habit, is exemplified when we buy a man the necessary tools of his trade, or the stock and furniture necessary to start a store. The belief on which we rest in such cases is that after the initial act of acceptance, after an initial period of dependence, the individual will become self-supporting and independent.
(c) Furniture. Or, again, one may give or loan a cooking-stove, so that the sufferer may no longer have to eat at restaurants, or some furniture in order that he may get the benefit of the lower rent to be had when one hires an unfurnished room. In all these cases the ideal thing is to arrange for repayment in small instalments. Failing this we try to think out a plan such that after the original expenditure the sufferer will be able to go on independently.
(d) Aid in illness. A fourth example of temporary interference in the form of financial aid, is a gift or loan of money to tide a person over an illness, to make his convalescence complete or to rest him when he is dangerously tired. Usually such aid can be rendered through services or institutions (nurses, hospitals, convalescent homes) which do not involve giving money outright.
(e) Aid during unemployment. A fifth good reason for giving money or other forms of relief temporarily is to tide the sufferer over a period of unemployment, during which he is actively looking for work or for better work than he now has. Sometimes we can assist him in this search. But there is danger in this. A man is less likely to keep a job that some one else finds for him than one which he finds for himself. Still, we may help him without harming him in case we can give him facts, names, positions, employment agencies by means of which he may secure employment, he himself taking the active part in securing the job. Information, which is what we here furnish, is one of the least dangerous of gifts.
In all these cases the principle is like that whereby we do surgery. Surgery is a temporary injury to the body done with the expectation of ultimate good, a temporary interference of outside powers with the natural self-maintenance of the organism, in order that those functions may ultimately go on not only independently, but more satisfactorily than before. The surgery may kill the patient, or leave him worse than he was before. But our reasonable expectation is (in case our surgery is good) that his health—that is, the capacity of his body to maintain itself, or develop itself—will be improved. So in economic surgery we foresee a speedy end to the need for aid. The person is to be put upon his feet by our aid; our services can soon be dispensed with. The need will not recur. It is not chronic. It was not his fault and therefore is not likely to return upon him soon because of continuance of the same defect.
Obviously one must try to make clear—or, still better, try to have it clear without explanation, understood because of our previously established relation of trust, confidence, and affection—that it is not because of parsimony or close-fistedness that we are refusing to give quickly, constantly, and without inquiry. Medical analogies must constantly guide us and be in the minds of those whom we try to help. We refuse money, as we refuse morphine, for the patient's good. We try to make our giving of money temporary and self-checking, for the same reason that we try never to begin giving morphine unless we can foresee a speedy termination of it, a speedy cessation of the need for it, as we do when we give it in gall-stone colic or acute diarrhea, or just before a surgical operation. If morphine were a possession of the doctor's, as money is a possession of the visitor or those whom she represents, then the doctor might often seem stingy, cruel, selfish in his refusal to give it. We must make it clear if we can that our hesitations, limitations, or refusals in relation to money have no more connection with our own control over that money, our own enjoyment of it, our own sense that we have any right to it, than the doctor's refusal to give morphine rests upon his desiring to take the morphine himself instead of giving it.
All this is difficult to make clear, and it is chiefly for this reason that I have repeatedly insisted that the financial approach, the financial ground for an entente cordiale, should not be used early in our dealings with the sufferer, but should if possible be postponed until, through medical service and personal intimacy, something approaching true friendship has been established.
It should be clear from what I have said that our judgments about giving financial aid can be sound, can result in doing good without harm or (as in surgery) good with a small element of harm, only in case they are the fruit of detailed, prolonged, individual study. It cannot be a wholesale matter. It cannot be done in exactly the same way in the case of any two individuals.
Let us stop to realize for a moment how arduous, how bold a task we have undertaken. We hope to construct a person's economic future better than he can construct it himself. We hope to see what the individual himself, despite the vividness and pressure of his immediate need, has not been able to see for himself—namely, how he can get himself out of his financial difficulties. We who do not wear the shoe are venturing to say where it pinches and how the pressure may be relieved, and to know about this better than the sufferer who feels the pressure in his own person and longs for its relief as it is hardly possible for any one else to desire it. It is almost as if we were trying to use his mind for him. It must not be that. But if it is not to be that, we must be sure that our aid is given through stimulating the individual to think for himself. "What do you think," we must constantly be asking him, "is the best way out of this our difficulty?" He must feel that we know it to be our difficulty as well as his, that we are not looking on with the cold gaze of an outsider, that we suffer in his suffering, and still that it is at last his, and that with all our best efforts we can only contribute a little to what must be for the most part his own reconstruction, a reconstruction like that which the body performs when it heals a wound which the surgeon or the physician can only encourage a little towards its natural healing.