
The moral paradox of intrinsic motivation
Intrinsic motivation is somewhat mysterious: why would we do something effortful or costly, without reward?
What would happen if you did nothing at all? If you did not eat or drink, you would soon succumb to malnutrition and dehydration, and die. Regardless of your inclination to produce offspring and fertility, if you did not attempt to find a mate and engage in the necessary behaviour, you would never realize the continuation of your genes. And by any standard, the limited life that would await you once you made and implemented the choice to do nothing would be pretty miserable. Much of our motivation to do stuff rather than do nothing can be traced back to our ultimate aspirations: to survive, thrive and procreate — with the former two eventually enabling the latter.
That may seem a little, well, simplistic for sophisticated, evolved creatures that we are. That unicellular organisms, plants and even more complex animals are preoccupied with survival and procreation, that is not so hard to see, but are we really that primitive? And yet, when you think about it, a lot of what we do does seem to serve these three imperatives.
Life cannot exist without motivation
Admittedly, many people choose to remain childless, but as a species, there is little doubt that, by and large, humans continue to procreate. Even among those who choose not to, we see behaviour characteristic of the search, selection and retention of a mate, indistinguishable from that of people with the firm intent to produce offspring.
Then, whether or not we live alone, with a mate, or with our family, the things we do are aimed at providing food and protection to ensure our survival, and a range of things that would fall into the thriving category. Abraham Maslow, and American psychologist, theorized a hierarchy of needs reflecting our physiological, psychological and social complexity. But here too, the components can all be related to our aspiration to survive, thrive, and ensure the continuation of our genetic material. (You might wonder why the thriving is even necessary: why did our genes make us, and our ancestors, be concerned about it? One explanation is that, all else being equal, an organism that thrives — that is not under stress — has better chances of survival and the successful realization of a next generation.)
However, much of our behaviour only serves those needs indirectly. We need resources to acquire sustenance and protection, the stuff that allows us to thrive, and to attract a mate with whom we might make babies. Our motivation is then almost always : we do something only because it provides us with these resources, which we can then subsequently use for one of these goals that really matter to us. Even if what we do has the direct purpose to feed us, protect us from threats, or ensure we thrive, it is the end result that provides us with the reward we seek, and not the activity itself. The weekly shopping trip may be a chore, but we do it because it ensures we have food and drink available. Replacing a broken lock or unblocking the loo may be a grind, but if it helps keeping the baddies out or ensures the toilet remains usable, we’ll do it. Washing and ironing clothes — our own, our partner’s or our children’s — may not be a pleasant activity, but if we walked around in dirty or crumpled attire, the disapproving looks we would attract might make us miserable, rather than thriving.
The exception, arguably, is procreation: the activity that can lead to the production of offspring, regardless whether it actually does, is widely considered pleasurable. And there are many more activities in the thriving category that provide us with enjoyment in their own right, regardless of any reward at the end. We may enjoy going for a walk, even though its destination is the same front door through which we left. We may enjoy playing tennis with a friend, the villain in the local amdram society for the people of our village, or the saxophone only for ourselves and the furniture — just for fun. We don’t care whether we win the game, receive a standing ovation, or achieve grade 8. We do these things out of motivation.
There is something delightfully simple and strangely liberating for us about doing something without expecting a particular result, payment or praise and deriving an inner reward from the activity itself. But others can take an interest in someone’s intrinsic motivation too. Unsurprisingly, when it comes to working together, a collaborator who joins you out of intrinsic motivation is more appealing than someone who needs extrinsic motivation. The latter will need some compensation, while for the former, the work will provide its own reward. Employers should be better off engaging employees’ intrinsic motivation (and engaging employees with intrinsic motivation for the job in the first place). For the same level of competence, an intrinsically motivated person is likely to be more productive, and to produce better outcomes.
Intrinsic, but not unconditionally so
But, as is often the case, it’s not quite that simple. Intrinsic motivation is widely regarded as more pure than extrinsic motivation. Someone who makes a sacrifice without expecting something in return is regarded as more noble and virtuous than someone who does so with the purpose of some gain — material or immaterial (like status, approval, or membership of a select group). This strong underlying connotation is confirmed in a recent paper by Mijeong Kwon and colleagues. They found that employees with higher intrinsic motivation are more likely to place a high value on it, and tend to associate it with higher morality. This moralization of intrinsic motivation means that they perceive themselves, and also others who exhibit this kind of motivation, as more moral people. Remarkably, they engage in more prosocial behaviour towards them (e.g., helping people catch up after sickness absence, or with a heavy peak workload), and less towards colleagues who are lower in intrinsic motivation. Intrinsic motivation becomes a moral standard to judge others by.
The instrumental nature of extrinsic motivation is easy to understand — making a sacrifice requires compensation. We can easily understand how the external reward serves a person’s self-interest, making extrinsic motivation the powerhouse of economic activity. As Adam Smith said, “ It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own self-interest. “
Intrinsic motivation is harder to grasp. Making a material sacrifice and getting nothing in return violates basic economics, and economists had to resort to the idea of the (coined by James Andreoni) that we enjoy when we are being generous with our time, effort or money. But that makes intrinsic motivation just as much a matter of self-interest as extrinsic motivation, calling into question the inherent virtue. What’s more, despite firmly considering intrinsic motivation as a sign of moral superiority, only the deserving — that is, those who are as intrinsically motivated as we are, and hence as morally sound — can count on our intrinsically motivated generosity.
‘Virtuous’ intrinsic motivation thus becomes doubly self-serving: it gives those people driven by intrinsic motivation the warm glow they crave, and rewards only those who are likewise motivated with the benefit of their ‘generosity’. An intriguing moral paradox!
If intrinsic motivation is adaptive, then we need some form of reward — the warm glow fits the bill — to confirm that we are doing something right. And by selectively offering the benefits of our generosity to those who act generously too, we reinforce the motive to act morally — to pursue intrinsic motivation alongside its extrinsic relative, and not to take advantage of others’ generosity. Nowhere is intrinsic motivation as crucial as in the family: parents are indispensable in raising offspring, yet as most parents will happily confirm, there is no extrinsic reward to be seen anywhere. Extending this from the nuclear family will facilitate cooperation more widely. This is a fundamental characteristic of humanity, and indeed the foundation of a moral theory, Morality as Cooperation, developed by Oliver Scott-Curry.
It seems we became moral beings because morality is inherently self-serving: it led to stronger cooperation, which in turn made us more successful than our relatives who cooperated less. Paradox resolved!
Originally published at http://koenfucius.wordpress.com on May 5, 2023.
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