“Who among you dares to dream of a wildly better future?” asks Rutger Bregman on more than one occasion in his book, Moral Ambition. If you dare for such a thing, then his book is an invitation to think through how you can make a significant contribution to that better world. And don’t do things by halves – make the biggest possible difference that you can.
That’s the heart of the idea of moral ambition. Common garden ambition is generally satisfied by making money, earning respect and influence, or some other metric of personal success. Those with moral ambition have a similar drive for results, but are looking for a different sort of outcome. They want to leave the world better than they found it, and are committed to action on the world’s biggest problems.
It’s easy to be well meaning, and Bregman is adamant that this isn’t enough. Holding the right opinions on things isn’t much use on its own; raising awareness doesn’t in itself bring change. We need action. There are plenty of people who are well informed and have good intentions, but don’t get anything done.
We should also be wary of framing our good actions in narrow terms, focusing on what we don’t do. Not flying, not eating meat, not voting for Reform, or whatever the case may be. “Surely a good life consists of more than what you don’t do?” suggests Bregman. “One would hope that on your deathbed, you can chalk up your life’s work to more than simply all the harm you didn’t cause?”
How to make a real difference then? The book looks at work. You’re going to spend two thousand weeks at your workplace, so you want a job that matters. He looks at finding community, and people who ask us good questions. Pace yourself and avoid burnout. He recommends enrolling at a “Hogwarts for do-gooders”, and describes just such a place: Charity Entrepreneurship in London, who mentor people in starting charities and measuring their impact. Another chapter looks at giving, learning from the Effective Altruist movement. Like me, Bregman finds it inspiring and exasperating in equal parts, but the useful bits are too useful to ignore.
The book draws on practical examples throughout, both current and historical. One chapter tells stories from the Dutch resistance to the Nazis during the Second World War, and what made people willing to risk their lives to hide Jews. The biggest factor is that they were personally asked to, which is disarmingly simple. Those who were most active weren’t special in any way, and there’s no predetermined type of ‘good person’ out there in the world, Bregman insists.
Other examples include figures from the abolition movement, the quakers, various philanthropists and scientists. The book does a good job of learning from these figures without putting them on a pedestal, learning from their mistakes as well as their successes. And you can recognise moral ambition in a person without liking them or agreeing with them on everything – see the passages on Ralph Nader or Peter Thiel.
Moral ambition doesn’t belong to a particular side, and this is a wrinkle in the argument that Bregman doesn’t quite iron out. One of the most morally ambitious people I can think of is Steve Bannon, who is delivering a significant social shift through the huge community he organises through his War Room podcasts and associated media platforms. Whether moral ambition makes the world better very much depends on one’s vision of the future.
Still, I really liked Moral Ambition. Bregman is engaging and witty as an author, bold and practical in his advice.
On a personal note, the book resonates with me because it names something that I see in myself. I consider myself ambitious, but with zero interest in fame and fortune. I already use some of the approaches Bregman suggests. For example, I don’t work on environmental issues because I have a passion for the natural world, but because I want to use my writing and advocacy in the place where it will make the biggest difference. (If I was following my passions I’d be a music journalist).
I also find it interesting that my Christian faith gave me the tools to make these sorts of decisions (while simultaneously bundling me out the door of the mainstream church, I might add. A lack of moral ambition in the church is the main reason why I’m at the fringes.) I don’t know how aware of it Bregman is, but his book reframes a number of religious ideas in secular terms, and I’d be curious to know if others hear an echo of seeking first the kingdom of God.
The Earthbound Report 