Yesterday I received a mailing offering me and a friend a free cruise in Florida, along with several days free stay in a luxury hotel. It said that "we're giving away FREE introductory Cruises . . . and you're confirmed to receive one!" This assurance is followed by a phone number to call in order to confirm my confirmed Free Cruise. The fake ticket was well done; you had to actually look for the signs that this was a marketing ploy to sell time-shares in a resort. ("Fun guided tour of a beautiful vacation ownership resort.") Also included was a "Travel Credit Voucher" which looked, except for the phrase "This is not a check", exactly like a check for $1,300.
Also in the mail yesterday was a newsletter from the Anselm Keefe Society offering me the opportunity to give away money or other financial assets to Saint Norbert College. This publication included effusive thanks, promises of tax deductibility, and suggestions about dealing with changes in estate and income tax laws which may (or may not) occur this year.
Both of these publications are, in a sense, sales pitches; both are seeking my money and both are trying to make me feel good about that. But what fundamental differences the two mailings illustrate! The time-share pitch makes every effort to imply that I can get something for nothing. (Or nearly nothing anyway. "Does not include port charges or government taxes".) The college's planned giving plea takes nearly the opposite approach, suggesting that I can give money away for nothing but thanks, although certain tax advantages may make the loss of assets less painful to me. ("Income tax savings and capital gains tax savings can permit a donor in the 35% tax bracket to give property worth $10,000 for only $5,000.")
Both mailings try to incite positive affect (they try to make me feel good) but again they use very different techniques to accomplish this goal. The time-share sales pitch bases its attempt on deception and selfishness; they are trying to make me feel proud of my ability to get pleasure for myself at no appreciable expense and they provide deceptive documents that appear to validate the good fortune on which I may base this delusion. The college attempts to play on my desire to see myself as a good person. Of course, "no one is good but God alone" and so this is also a delusion. They suggest that I could be a greater benefactor with less pain to me. (They say that "tax savings are important because they allow our friends to do much more than they may have thought possible.")
So there are similarities and striking differences in these appeals for my support. Beneath the surface, there is a more profound difference. The time-share advertising does not say so, but the underlying goal is for the sponsors to make money for themselves. In fact, their appeal to my desire to get something of value from them is an extrapolation of their desire to get something from me. They treat me as a mirror of themselves and use my self-interest as the key to their self-interest. The college, on the other hand, begins their appeal with a reference to supporting a "place for intellectual, spiritual and personal growth -- a place where students can become our future leaders." Like the time-share promoters, the college's planned giving group treats me as a mirror of themselves. The difference is that they understand themselves, and thus they understand me, as participants in helping other people and in making the whole world a better place than it might otherwise be.
On the one hand, deception and self-interest. On the other, doing the most good as easily as possible. It's a clear enough choice, I think. Of those two options, I'll choose the one which treats me most like the person I see myself to be.
In actual reality, that's the choice everyone will make.