ON your way to work today you may have paused to let another car merge into your lane. Or you stopped to give a dollar to a subway artist. A minute later, another chance to do the same may have appeared. Did your first act make the second more tempting? Or did you decide you had done your good deed for the day?
Strangely, researchers have demonstrated both reactions — moral consistency and moral compensation — repeatedly in laboratories, leading them to ask why virtue sometimes begets more virtue and sometimes allows for vice. In doing so, they have shed an interesting light on how the conscience works.
We often look to past behavior for clues about who we are and what we want, and then behave accordingly. Of course, we seek consistency not only with desirable behaviors, but also with less noble acts: in one study, subjects assigned to wear sunglasses they knew were counterfeit were more likely to cheat during the experiment.
But other research shows that good behavior often makes people feel license to be bad. In one study, after shopping for environmentally friendly products, compared with conventional ones, subjects stole more money. Again, this works both ways: another study found that contemplating a taboo act increased one’s willingness to volunteer with an organ donation campaign.
What determines such behavior? One explanation draws on the distinction between abstract and concrete thinking. In a recent paper in Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, the psychologists Paul Conway of the University of Western Ontario and Johanna Peetz of Carleton University showed that when we think of a past deed with an abstract mind-set — say, by focusing on one that occurred in the distant past — we demonstrate moral consistency. Subjects who recalled an honorable act done long ago reported more willingness to do volunteer work than those who recalled a shameful one. Thinking of a past deed using a concrete mind-set, however, leads to moral compensation. In that same study, recalling an honorable act done recently led to less willingness to volunteer.
Mr. Conway and Ms. Peetz suggest that concrete thinking focuses us locally on our current progress toward a goal — being a good person, say — and we either rest up or buckle down.
Considering a past act in terms of its effects, as opposed to the ethical principles it adheres to, may also moderate our behavior. In an experiment reported in a recent issue of Psychological Science by Gert Cornelissen of Pompeu Fabra University in Spain and colleagues, subjects who recalled personal conduct that benefited or harmed other people showed moral compensation: the helpers cheated more during the experiment than the hurters.
Apparently considering outcomes instead of principles spurs pragmatic trade-offs, in this case between one’s virtue and one’s self-interest: one for you, one for me. But subjects who recalled behavior that did or didn’t adhere to an ethical principle showed moral consistency.
Consistency may be most likely when the initial act is somehow costly and thus indicative of commitment, according to a paper published recently in the journal Management Science by Ayelet Gneezy of the University of California, San Diego, and colleagues.
In one experiment, some subjects were told that they’d be paid $5 and that an additional $2 would go to charity; some were told the $2 donation would come out of their $5 payment; and a control group simply received $5. The first, costless-donation group showed moral compensation, behaving less honestly during the experiment than the controls. But the second group acted more honestly.
These studies point to the role of self-concept in directing our behavior, and researchers have suggested that a positive moral identity, besides making us feel good, may play a functional role. Some say the best way to convince others that we are trustworthy is to first convince ourselves; maintaining a healthy conscience might just be a ruse for manipulation. Others, including the economist Roland Benabou of Princeton, argue that it makes resisting shortsighted temptations easier: when you think you’re good, the choice to be good becomes automatic.
To encourage lofty behavior in others (and ourselves), we should consider identity concerns. After a kind act, praise not just what was done but what it reveals about character. Say, “You’re so helpful.” After a misdeed, focus on the act, not the person. Convinced that we’re bad, it’s hard to go back.
We often spin events to prop up our moral self-esteem: it was I who took the high road in that spat with the other driver. But in return for our hypocrisy, feeling righteous might just make us so.
