![](http://web.archive.org./web/20150930194223/http://www.newyorker.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/09/Larissa-MacFarquhar-TNY-Festival-2015-2-320.jpg)
It’s an odd fact that of all the urgent causes in the world, one that has seen the most progress in the past decade—the population whose lives have been most improved—is chickens. This is due, in part, to the relentlessly effective efforts of Aaron Pitkin, a kind of civil-rights activist for poultry. But in devoting his life to this work, he has faced the conflicts and suspicion that confront any tirelessly committed do-gooder.
The term “do‑gooder” is, of course, often demeaning. It can mean someone who’s annoyingly earnest or self-righteous, or an intrusive meddler. But even when it simply means someone who does good deeds, there’s still some skepticism, even hostility, in it. When I started researching “Strangers Drowning,” my book in which Aaron Pitkin’s story appears, I began by talking to people who had donated one of their kidneys to a stranger, and I was surprised to discover that many of them had encountered a lot of resistance. Family members resented that they were donating to a stranger rather than saving their kidney for someone in the family; doctors suspected that they were crazy to do such a thing, and subjected them to extensive psychological examinations.
Why do moral people make us uneasy? One reason may be guilt, or irritation: nobody likes to be reminded of his own selfishness, or to be told, even implicitly, what to do. But that’s not the whole story. Ambivalence toward do‑gooders also arises out of a deep uncertainty about how we ought to live. For instance: a do-gooder holds himself to moral commitments so stringent that they conflict with his caring for his family. To most people, it’s obvious that they owe far more to family than to strangers, but the do‑gooder doesn’t believe his family deserves better than anyone else’s.
On Sunday, at the New Yorker Festival, I’ll tell you Aaron Pitkin’s story: how he arrived at the principles he lives by; the extraordinary moral will that keeps him focussed; and how he explains at home that the chickens need him more.
Tickets to this event are available online and at the box office.