Compassionate capitalism provides more value than the mere act of giving to the poor. People value knowing where their money goes. They pay taxes, of which a small portion goes to international aid. They give to charities, of which some portion goes to sending out a lot of junk mail in hopes of getting more donations. And in Henry Hygiene’s compassionate capitalism, they know that they’re giving a nickel’s worth of toilet paper to Bangladeshis for each roll they buy for themselves.

Maybe you don’t feel it’s good that if a problem remains in limbo — neither solved nor ignored — the compassionate capitalist stands to prolong their profit. But I don’t see how the particular solution of “incremental value” changes this situation. One may be giving more, or less, than a nickel when all is said and done; it just complicates the contract. It may be simplistic to give hand-outs, it may push Bangladeshi TP manufactory out of business, it may be a way to alleviate first-worlders’ feelings of guilt; but the profit alone does not concern me.

Now if Mother Teresa was to buy a Ferrari with funds she said were going to help the poor, we would feel outrage. But that’s not the same situation the hypothetical Henry Hygiene is in. Unless he is embezzling from the 5 cents he said was going toward papering Bangladeshi butts, there is no direct analogy between his form of charity and Mother Teresa driving a Ferrari.

We are actors in the global economy, benefiting unequally from it. Many people feel this is unfair, which stirs some to buy from “compassionate capitalists,” some to rise and revolt revolt, and some to give to charity. It even stirs some to write internet thinkpieces that criticize people for benefiting from acts of charity more than the recipients of that charity. If we were really radical about it, we could solve that problem by punishing people who pay people who profit from their public patronage (sarcasm).