Why I give 10% of my income and why this choice might make sense for you too
Romain Barbe
Founder of Mieux Donner
Reading time: 8 minutes
We have all been in a situation where someone in front of us needed help. In those moments, we don’t ask ourselves a thousand questions: we act. We step forward, reach out, and intervene. It feels almost instinctive.
Yet every day, thousands of children, families, and individuals suffer in ways we cannot see. They do not cross our path on the way to work. They do not cry out in our living rooms while we are having dinner. Their suffering is real — but silent.
So why does our sense of responsibility seem to fade as soon as the problem is out of sight? Why does what feels urgent here suddenly become optional elsewhere?
This is the question raised by a philosopher — and it completely changed the way I think about giving. It is a simple, almost childlike thought experiment, yet one with radical implications.
What if distance did not diminish our responsibility?
What if we could act where help is most needed, even without being physically present?
A disturbing idea... but one that makes you think.
Here’s how it works, simply put:
Imagine you are walking past a pond. You see a child drowning. You are not an exceptional swimmer, but you are capable enough to jump in, pull the child out of the water, bring them safely to the shore, and provide first aid — all without putting your own life at risk. The only thing you might lose is a pair of shoes… a minor cost compared to what the child stands to lose.
The instinctive, almost universal reaction is: “Of course I would dive in.” There is barely any hesitation. It does not matter that the child is a stranger, or from another country. Distance does not weaken our sense of moral responsibility.
But Singer pushes the reasoning further: if saving the child in front of us is morally obligatory, what about when the child is not drowning before our eyes, but far away — in a country in crisis, sick, lacking access to clean water, food, or education?
If, with a relatively modest sum, I can help prevent deaths, suffering, and wasted potential, is it not also my moral responsibility to give? Even if the child is “far” from my sight, does that truly change my duty to help?
This gap between visible urgency (the pond) and invisible distress (humanitarian crises, inequality, poverty, health, education, climate change) reveals a simple yet unsettling dilemma. Our moral instincts compel us to help when the need is right in front of us. But we often fail to act when the suffering is distant or abstract — because it feels remote, complex, and impersonal.
Yet, and this is the strength of Singer’s argument, the relevant criteria remain the same: urgency, severity, and the possibility of effective action. Geographical, cultural, or social distance should not diminish our moral responsibility.
It is this gap between our spontaneous moral reactions and our everyday habits that deserves attention. Why do we so often choose to look away — to consume, to spend, to plan — rather than to help, when we could do so through a modest and thoughtful act?
This thought experiment is disturbing because it forces us to confront our contradictions. But I believe it is necessary: it forces us to reconsider our priorities, our comfort, our sense of responsibility.
When this idea resonated with my values
I remember exactly when I first encountered this idea. It was in a book that described the shallow pond thought experiment. After finishing the page, I closed the book feeling slightly unsettled, yet deeply convinced. It was not just an abstract philosophical argument. It held up a mirror to my own choices, my priorities, and what I considered acceptable.
I realised that most people justify inaction with “yes, but…” arguments: distance, lack of information, diluted responsibility, powerlessness. Yet in the case of the pond, these arguments suddenly seem unacceptable. If I can act without putting myself in danger, without excessive effort, why wouldn’t I?
Throughout my life, I had already embraced certain values: a commitment to fairness, a desire for solidarity, an awareness of human vulnerability. But this thought experiment — this framing of responsibility — marked a turning point. It was no longer simply an abstract wish to help. It became, in my eyes, a clear call to act — concretely and thoughtfully.
I told myself something quite simple: if I believe that every person deserves a chance to live with dignity, then my actions must reflect that to some extent.
That day, I realised that I had the means to take action. It wasn’t to ease my conscience, nor because someone was forcing me to do it. It was simply because it was the logical next step in what I already believed in.
Taking action: the choice of the 10%
Shortly afterwards, I decided to allocate a fixed portion of my income to charity: 10%. Why that number? Because it felt both meaningful and sustainable.
When I encountered this idea, I did not think, “I am going to sacrifice my comfort.” Instead, I thought, “I can continue living as I do now, while choosing to set aside a portion of what I earn to help others.” Living on 90% of my income did not fundamentally change my daily life: I still had a roof over my head, food on the table, transportation, moments to share, laughter, and a full life.
It was a voluntary but deliberate choice — a personal commitment that struck a balance between my own needs and my aspiration to act in solidarity with others.
Why 10 %
It is a high enough threshold to have a meaningful impact without compromising my financial independence.
I was already familiar with this kind of proportion in my own life, as I once received a pay rise of around 10%. It did not radically change my standard of living. That felt like a useful comparison for gauging the significance of this commitment.
Conversely, if a colleague were to lose 10% of their salary tomorrow, would I truly worry about their well-being?
Who I give to, and why
I do not give to just any charity. I have chosen high-impact charities, selected according to rigorous criteria: demonstrated effectiveness, transparency, and careful impact tracking.
I prioritise causes where my donation can have measurable impact and make a tangible difference.
Donating 10% of my income is simply my way of staying consistent with what I believe in — making room for others in my budget and in my life.
What are the effects of this choice on a daily basis?
Since I started giving, some aspects of my life have changed, while others have not.
I go out less often and spend less on impulse purchases. Sometimes I replace a dinner at a restaurant with a picnic with friends — a simple but genuinely enjoyable moment.
Paradoxically, I do not feel like I have “lost” anything. On the contrary, I have gained greater consistency with my values, as well as a deeper sense of serenity and meaning.
This 10% commitment is not a constraint for me, but a form of freedom: the freedom to choose what I want to support, how I want to live, and what I want to contribute to.
A video that makes this idea accessible to everyone
On YouTube, Noé Jacomet has made a video that brilliantly explains the shallow pond experiment.
The video explains the idea in a simple, accessible way, without unnecessary philosophical vocabulary.
- It makes tangible what may seem abstract in a text: moral urgency, the weight of inaction, the possibility of concrete action.
- It invites reflection, without guilt or judgement, simply asking: ‘What would you do if you were the person standing at the edge of the pond?’
I am including it here because I believe it allows everyone, regardless of age, background or experience, to imagine themselves in the situation, to feel it too, and to decide.
Thank you to Noé for this work of clarity and sincerity. If you have already seen it, please feel free to share it (again). If not, I invite you to discover it.
So, what shall we do with all this?
Not everyone can decide to give 10% of their income straight away. Depending on their financial situation, certain periods of life require keeping more for oneself.
I made this choice because I was in a position that allowed me to do so. At the time, it felt like the right decision for me.
That said, I also believe that we often have a little more room to act than we think. We can move forward at our own pace and according to our own means. Sometimes that means 10%. Sometimes less. Sometimes much more.
What matters most is trying to stay aligned with what you believe in — your values, your priorities, and your current circumstances.
Giving better means giving consciously: understanding real needs, taking an interest in the actual impact of charities, and relying on solid information.
You might simply ask yourself: “And in my own shallow pond… what can I do today?”
Giving differently is possible
When I think back to the shallow pond thought experiment — that simple, spontaneous, morally “obvious” gesture — I see that it captures what I deeply believe: our responsibility does not stop at distance.
Giving 10% of my income is not “effective” simply because it is a large amount. It is effective because it is intentional and consistent — aligned with a clear purpose: to act where it is most useful, to support causes that truly matter, and to help improve lives.
If you are reading this, it is because you care and are asking yourself questions. Perhaps today you are not ready to commit. Or perhaps you are already committed, but are looking to structure your giving and make it more intentional.
I would simply encourage you to explore. To reflect on how much you can give — and how. To choose high-impact charities.
And if this approach resonates with you, I would be delighted to support you. Please feel free to book a meeting with me.
You can also continue your reflection and discover effective charities to donate to this year.
As you can see, giving differently is accessible to everyone, so feel free to explore our content, spread the word, and take action as soon as you can.