Not wanting to minimise the awfulness of this closure and what it means to the thousands of vulnerable children, I would like to think of the closure in a wider context. I think perhaps the plight of Kids Company is symptomatic of a greater problem. Despite governemnet backing and an impressive pedigree of supporters, including Cold Play, J.K Rowling, Damien Hirst, Michael McIntyre and so on, Kids Company still did not have enough financial support. It’s what I have come to refer to as charity fatigue…the point where bewilderment starts to smother empathy. When we are asked to step up and help, there is a part of us that relishes the prospect. The idea that we can effect positive change in the world or alter the course of another individual’s life for the better stimulates a powerful response in our social brains. There is a vicarious pleasure in seeing grateful and happy faces brought about by something we have done. It makes us feel significant. It empowers and enlivens us. But this cannot continue indefinitely. There is a point beyond these feelings, where the returns are ever diminishing. It puts me in mind of the idiom, ‘No good deed goes unpunished.’ I never really understood what that meant until recently.
Now, I like to donate where I can, not huge amounts, but regularly or if prompted by some appeal or other. The recent Nepal earthquake was the most recent event to strike a chord. Desperate people without the good fortune to start life in a developed country with a comprehensive system of social care. I subsequently donated a few times and would advocate others, if they can, to do the same. This is where those diminishing returns start to kick in. I have since received a considerable number of appeals via email and post encouraging me to give more. And they continue to come. Now, in itself this is understandable. They are doing what they must to raise funds, even if that requires a certain amount of aggressive campaigning. However, this has its limits and should be done with caution. Indeed, in this case it seemed that every successive appeal I opened grew increasingly emotive and manipulative, culminating in one only last week which all but suggested I would be effectively collaborating in the death of a child unless I immediately got out my credit card and donated via phone. And that, I’m sorry to say, just grates.