The USAID Scandal and the Art of Spending Well

USAID and Large-Scale Expenditure

New Saint Andrews students perceive, time and again, that the reading of ancient books and dusty tomes is not just an activity relegated to the ivory tower. I recall a particular assignment in a history class back in 2020 where we students were asked to apply Thucydides’ political theory to the United States’ situation with Iran—talk about applied history. I graduated from NSA in 2023, and since then I continually implement Cicero’s Ad Herennium in the emails I compose and compare elements of The Faerie Queen to the stories I read. The church fathers, philosophers, historians, and authors we read compose the “democracy of the dead,” to borrow a phrase from Chesterton.

The USAID scandal—I can think of no better word—which has unfolded in the last week or so has reminded me of yet another dusty tome, Book IV of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics. Aristotle, certainly, would have much to say to the current administration. Rather than engaging in political economic theory, however, I wanted to consider the virtues which govern large-scale giving and expenditure; magnificence and generosity.

Generosity and Magnificence

The thesis of Aristotle’s Nicomachean Ethics (NE) is that eudaimonia, often translated as ‘happiness,’ is man’s highest good. This translation is confusing, however, as eudaimonia refers to something other than our contemporary understanding of “happiness.” Happiness, for Aristotle, is “the activity of the soul in accord with reason”, which ultimately means living a completely virtuous life, including both intellectual (wisdom, prudence, artistry or craftsmanship, etc.) and moral virtues (courage, temperance, justice, etc.).

Among Aristotle’s moral virtues are several that we wouldn’t traditionally call virtues. For example, “wittiness” is absent from a list of the fruits of the spirit, though Aristotle includes it in his list of virtues. Magnificence is one of these lesser-known virtues, and has to do with actions concerned with giving and expenditure, particularly of large-scale giving which is fitting and produces an excellent effect.

The difference between generosity and magnificence has been something of a head-scratcher for academics, and I could point you to several papers and articles on the differences between the two. But the difference I want to highlight is that, when it comes to large-scale giving for the public good, a generous man’s gift is decent and practical, while a magnificent man’s gift is “fitting” and produces an “excellent effect.”

Now, Aristotle here is talking about large-scale giving at the individual level. Think of the rich merchants in Florence during the Renaissance, or Carnegie, who is probably named on the plaque of your local public library (I know he is at the Moscow Public Library). In applying these virtues to the actions of USAID or the National Endowment for the Arts, we must make allowance for the differences in bounds and responsibilities of government giving and expenditure as opposed to individual giving. However, the point I’m making here is not really about political theory, but rather a normative approach to giving and spending for the public good—something which the government certainly has a hand in.

Generosity is easy for us to grasp. We say a person is generous with their time when they help us during a move, or when they give their server a tip. This would be small-scale giving. Generosity at a large-scale is evident as well; consider a large donation to a local school, a full-ride scholarship offered to a local student, or a gift which makes the construction of an art museum possible. Aristotle goes on to say that generosity applies to all actions involving money.

Magnificence, however, is more of a foreign concept. First of all, Aristotle states that a poor person cannot be magnificent. This rubs our egalitarian hackles the wrong way. What do you mean, only a wealthy person can practice this virtue? Additionally, Aristotle states that the “magnificent person is generous, but the generous person is not thereby magnificent”. Plus, generosity applies to all actions pertaining to money, while magnificence is concerned with expenditure. Therefore, magnificence is a species of the genus, which is generosity.

Without getting into the minutiae, I believe the primary difference between the two virtues is described in the statement, “...from an equal expenditure the magnificent person will produce the more magnificent work.” Using the same amount of funds, a magnificent person will produce something greater, something more fitting, something nobler than a merely generous person.

Consider, for example, gifting a public library to the city. The generous man can gift a fine library with the necessary books and staff to the city. This would certainly be described as a generous action. However, a magnificent man, using the same expenditure, knows where to obtain beautiful, rare wood for the shelves, more professional staff to run the library, a better selection of books—in short, the magnificent man will create a greater or “nobler” library without necessarily spending more than the generous man. The magnificent man has not only the means to give a generous gift of the library to the city, but he also has an eye for detail, an understanding of what is suitable under the circumstances, and the technical ability to execute a large project at a high level of excellence.

USAID and Magnificence

So far, we have largely stayed in the comfort of the ivory tower. But it is time to descend the steps and open the door, blinking in the sunlight, and apply these concepts to real life. What hath magnificence to do with the US government?

There’s much debate on what the government ought to fund or be involved in, and the government already has so many fingers in so many pies that it resembles a centipede. Rather than hash out every last responsibility of the government in this article, I’d rather like to apply the virtue of magnificence to the act of government expenditure as a form of large-scale expenditure, while conceding that the debate on which things to fund and how much to give is still at issue.

Government spending is notoriously inefficient. This is in part because the government is unaffected by the competitive marketplace in the same way that companies are. There is no incentive for the government to be efficient—yet there is incentive for government entities to use up their budget, regardless of whether it was necessary, in order to get a larger budget for the subsequent year. It’s all in Sowell, man.

If the government prized “magnificent” spending, maybe we could get somewhere. Our aims in government expenditure ought to be “excellence of effect” and funding what is fitting, rather than spending more and more money. What I’m advocating for here is greater than mere efficiency; rather, this kind of funding elevates the society as a whole (in practicing eudaemonia). We sometimes talk about the ugliness of architectural styles such as Brutalism, the International Style, or Deconstructivism: in a rightly ordered government, commissioning architecture which improves the well-being of its citizens by means of its beauty and fittingness—what Aristotle would call “nobility”—could be a practicable outworking of magnificence. Again, we can debate until the cows come home about the responsibilities of the government or government overreach; but at the end of the day, we need to seriously evaluate our rubric for large-scale expenditure.

While I wanted to write about government spending as a timely topic, the virtues of magnificence and generosity have an obvious and more direct application to giving at the personal level. Giving is difficult; it is a skill which requires practice, practice, practice. And I believe that the majority of those reading this article can practice both magnificence and generosity. We live in an extremely wealthy time. If you drive a car, have a roof over your head, if you’re reading this on your phone or laptop, you are fabulously wealthy. Practice the virtues of giving. Do you attend local theater productions? You are a patron of the arts. Do you buy books from authors you respect and want to support? You are promoting certain artists over others. This may strike you as small potatoes, but recall that “He who is faithful with little…”