She donated a kidney to a stranger without expecting anything in return. This is the story of a graphic artist whose sole motivation was altruism. Such cases have led researchers to question whether altruism might be an inherent trait in the human brain.
Angela Stimpson, a graphic designer from Albany, New York, agreed to donate a kidney to someone she had never met. “The only thing I knew about my recipient was that she was a female and she lived in Bakersfield, California,” Stimpson said.
She willingly faced the pain and potential post-surgical complications with a single goal in mind: to help someone in need. But why did she do it? It’s a difficult question to answer, especially considering that her selfless act involved major surgery, anonymity, and no financial compensation.
Many might be quick to label such behaviour as a deviation from the norm. But what if our definitions of “normal” are misguided? What if Angela’s actions represent a form of true altruism that should be considered normal?
Altruism in different shades
Angela’s act stands in stark contrast to what psychologists call “selfish altruism,” where people are more inclined to help family members or those close to them. The motivation behind such actions is different from that of the kidney donor. The same distinction can be made for “mutual altruism,” which occurs when someone feels the need to return a favour for a kindness they’ve already received.
This wasn’t the case for Angela. So, what was her motivation? The details she shared offer clarity. “At that time in my life, I was 42 years old. I was single, I had no children,” Stimpson explained. “I loved my life, but I would often question what my purpose was.”
When she learned that someone was in desperate need of a kidney, Stimpson saw it as an opportunity to find deeper meaning in her life. Now, she shares her experience on a blog, encouraging others to become donors. Her act of generosity was far from a random decision. In an interview, she said that “the donation was by far the most meaningful experience of my life,” and she added, “I’d do it again tomorrow.”
Similar stories, with the same profound impact, can be found everywhere, even right in front of us. For instance, Cokie van der Velde, a British woman, explained in an article for BBC News why she left the safety of her home to help combat the Ebola virus.
Although she admits to being afraid of what might happen, as a doctor with the international organisation Doctors Without Borders, Cokie van der Velde accepted the risk to her life to selflessly help others. Her motivation can be seen as altruism, as she justifies taking this risk by saying, “The people I’m helping are part of the human race, part of humanity—in that respect, all people for me are the same. I feel I have as much obligation to help a stranger as I do to help someone I know.”
Altruism under the researchers’ lens
People like Stimpson exhibit “extraordinary altruism,” according to Abigail Marsh, as quoted in an NPR article. Marsh, an associate professor of psychology at Georgetown University, is one of the researchers focused on understanding altruism.
Her scientific curiosity was sparked by a personal experience—her life was saved by a man who pulled her to safety on a highway and then disappeared before she could even ask his name. This act of kindness drove Marsh to delve deeper into this type of behaviour. She decided to study the brains of individuals who had donated a kidney to strangers. Of the 39 participants in her study, 19 of them—including Angela Stimpson—were kidney donors.
Marsh used imaging techniques to examine the participants’ brains, measuring reactions in various areas. In one test, they were asked to look at pictures showing different facial expressions, such as happiness, fear, anger, sadness, and surprise.
A significant difference was observed in a part of the brain called the amygdala, which plays a key role in processing emotions. The donors showed more intense neural activity in the right amygdala, which also had a larger volume.
These findings build upon the conclusions of another study conducted by Marsh on a group of psychopaths. Using the same tests she applied to altruists, Marsh discovered that psychopaths have a smaller and less active amygdala. This suggests that the amygdala might serve as the brain’s emotional compass, contributing to heightened sensitivity in some people and emotional detachment in others.
This is not the first study to explore such connections. For example, researchers at the University of Zurich have also suggested that altruism may be linked to brain neuroanatomy, as Marsh’s research indicates. However, the difference between the two studies consists of the following: while Marsh focuses on the amygdala, the Zurich researchers propose that altruism could be related to a higher proportion of grey matter at the intersection of the parietal and temporal lobes.
Study implications
From a scientific perspective, it is still too early to draw definitive conclusions about the relationship between altruism and brain responses. However, the premise of such a connection exists, as evidenced by the different reactions of individuals exposed to the same tests.
This could suggest that the human brain is inherently capable of altruism, as if it’s woven into the genetic fabric of our being. Such a conclusion aligns with theological concepts: altruism is not limited to a select few, but is part of the potential of the entire human race. So why, then, is the kind of altruism displayed by Angela so rare?
Some may argue that these differences can be explained by the varying development of brain regions potentially responsible for altruism. This implies that not everyone is equally equipped with the same neural capacity for altruism, and therefore, not everyone is to blame for a lack of empathy. In other words, perhaps some are simply not at fault for their inability to develop this trait. But is the brain solely responsible, with no role left for human choice in shaping altruistic behaviour?
A possible explanation may lie in the idea suggested by Serge Moscovici, who explored how time pressure can distort altruistic tendencies. While it’s possible that our brains are wired for altruism, through our choices we can disable that “software.” Personal decisions and life’s pressures can dull or even override the altruistic impulses the brain sends.
Moscovici demonstrated this through an experiment. A group of theology students from Princeton Theological Seminary were told they were late for an important lecture and had to hurry because they were already expected in class. On their way, they encountered a person collapsed in front of a building, seemingly in need of help. Only 10% stopped to assist, showing signs of altruism, while the rest, pressured by time, continued on their way.
Ironically, they were rushing to a lecture about the Good Samaritan.
