There is always an alternative route for the accomplishment of social goals. It appears that, at the very least, there are two schools of thought underpinning this issue.
One is the conventional school, which dictates that is acceptable to follow the socially acceptable path to success and respect (as a sacrifice) and then use one's ensuing monetary and institutional powers to make good. This generally requires investing time in education and career building and then choosing a threshold at which one decides to devote more time to social work than to career management. The prime examples of this, at the very moment, are Bill Gates and Warren Buffet, the two richest men in the world. Gates said he was stepping down from major work at Microsoft to more actively manage his foundation, and a few days later, Warren Buffet declared that he was giving most of his money (near $40 billion) to Bill Gates' foundation. These two men succeeded in traditional business roles in society and now are able to contribute enormous resources (money and time) to social work. Another other classic example that comes to mind is the founder of the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies, Dr. Alon Tal. He sacrificed years of his life in order to get a law degree and PhD, but with his skills was able to found important organizations and contribute greatly to the environmental discourse in Israel. Another example I personally like to mention for this school of social work is Wangari Maathai, the Carnegie Mellon-trained PhD from Kenya who, after significant schooling and Westernization, established a reafforestation program in Kenya that won her the Nobel Peace Prize. Other examples might be people like political analyst Noam Chomsky and rock star Bono of U2.
The other approach is the grassroots school, which demands far less preparatory investment and calls for more direct intervention on behalf of social goals. One can thus build the skills most appropriate for dealing with vulnerable populations and develop respect from the ground up. Many examples of such an approach come to mind. Everyone is probably by now familiar with Erin Brockovich, the housemother-turned-law assistant, whose people skills allowed her and the law firm she worked for, to receive what was at the time the largest sum from an environmental case in American history. Another example is Julia Butterfly Hill, an activist tree sitter who became famous after spending more than three months in a redwood tree in California and now does extraordinary foundation work. Lois Gibbs, the now-famous homeowner association president of Love Canal in New York State, started as a concerned communtiy member and now runs major advocacy work out of Washington, D.C. Ralph Nader, the famous politician of the United States, also got his start with seatbelt safety law and is now a major presence. People like my past boss, Mike Ewall, who has only a college degree, choose this approach by choice and are often, on a case-by-case scale, very effective advocates.
Clearly this dichotomy is made to be broken and there are abundant examples of people who have met success with a hybrid approach. This fact, however, does not detract from the usefulness of studying the two ends (or at least 2 major points) in the social work spectrum. My own position is that these two approaches have their roles and because of some fundamental drawbacks in each, must be critiqued by people trying to guide their life toward social work. One of the pitfalls of the conventional school, and there are many, is that activist spirit and creativity is often dumbed down in the process of institutionalization. Working up to a position at the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) is a worthy goal, but one often finds one's standards compromised by a bureaucratic system, aspirations for promotions, family planning, and other systemic issues relating to the work. Alternatively, the "edge" of an activist, the fighting spirit, could be softened to nothing over the 8-10-year process of getting a PhD necessary for a certain key position. Hobnobbing at fancy parties in attempt to raise foundation money to continue a program is often the fate of people in the conventional school. However, the potential for change in this school is, on average, probably larger because such people can end up with decision-making powers and institute major top-down changes.
The grassroots approach, more than anything else, is simply a gamble on narrow or broad success. A so-called victory in activist terms, such as shutting down a particularly polluting landfill, is cause for a local celebration... but with more omnipotent powers, we might see that such garbage as was diverted from this community ended up in another community, perhaps in the more vulnerable Third World. Such cases are not complete losses, because they set precedents and spook industrial advocates and can galvinize change. But very often, the effects are local and the global effects actually marginal. However, every so often one of these grassroots cases becomes Love Canal, Wackersdorf (Germany, nuclear waste), or Hinckley (of Erin Brockovich fame). In the context of sustainable development, it is questionable how much the activist approach has been effective on issues outside of humanitarian aid [I admit that, on this point, I have much more to learn].
So why am I quickly writing about this? Because a Rabbi friend of mine suggested a book called The Razor's Edge by W. Somerset Maugham, which traces the story of guy named Larry through his journey of intellectual and spiritual growth. The book is not precisely about how to most efficiently invest one's life in social work, but draws a beautiful picture of a bright young individual struggling to discover his calling and eventually choosing the non-conventional approach. Larry is in contrast to a deeply conventional individual named Elliott, who uses his prestige and financial resources to carry out his will. For anyone in turmoil about their own decision about choosing a life along conventional lines or grassroots lines, this book may offer some deep insight.
I leave you with a question -- in comparing the effectiveness of these two approaches, is it fair to simply add up one's social goods at the end of life and compare which approach produced more social good per lifespan? Or is there something inherently more valuable about either of the two approaches?
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