The Politics of Helping: When Governments Pass the Buck

Beyond individual behaviour, helping also has a political dimension. Governments—perhaps more than anyone—have the power to address root causes of inequality through policy. Yet far too often, they sidestep this responsibility. Instead of investing in structural solutions like accessible education, social housing, or mental health care, many states turn to the public with a simple message: Donate.

Donations aren’t bad in themselves. But when governments encourage charity over policy, it sends a dangerous message—that the wellbeing of vulnerable groups is a matter of personal generosity rather than collective justice.

This isn’t just lazy governance. It’s a subtle way of maintaining control while appearing compassionate.

Charity Over Change: A Convenient Deflection

In many countries, we’ve seen a rise in campaigns that encourage citizens to donate clothes, food, or money to the poor or to refugees. It may look heartwarming on the surface, but it often masks a deeper problem: the government is offloading its duty to support its own people. Helping is shifted from being a right—embedded in policy and public responsibility—to being a favour, dependent on the goodwill of individuals.

This aligns with the concept of dependency-oriented help. The state may provide just enough assistance to keep people afloat, but not enough to allow them to thrive or challenge their circumstances. This “band-aid” approach doesn’t solve inequality—it prolongs it.

A Different Model: Germany and the Push for Self-Sufficiency

Contrast this with Germany’s approach to refugee integration, which offers a powerful example of autonomy-oriented help at a policy level. Instead of treating refugees as helpless dependents in need of ongoing charity, Germany has focused on policies that promote self-reliance and long-term inclusion.

Initiatives include access to language courses, vocational training, job placement services, and legal pathways to work and residence. These aren’t token gestures. They’re investments in people’s futures—rooted in the belief that everyone has the potential to contribute, given the right support.

It’s not perfect, of course. There are bureaucratic challenges and political tensions. But the core philosophy stands in stark contrast to models that rely on charity alone. Germany’s approach shows that helping doesn’t have to be about making people grateful—it can be about making them equal.

What This Means for Us

When we rely too heavily on donations and individual acts of kindness, we risk maintaining a status quo where systemic inequality is never truly addressed. True prosocial behaviour—on a societal level—means holding governments accountable, pushing for policies that empower, and recognising that helping must go beyond optics.

It’s easy for a government to praise compassion. It’s harder to fund public health care or reform the housing system. But unless we tackle the root causes, we’ll keep treating symptoms forever—and calling it help.

The Kindness That Holds Us Back: Benevolent Sexism in Disguise

One of the most eye-opening things I’ve learned while studying the psychology of helping is that not all “nice” behaviour is good. In fact, some of the most damaging attitudes hide behind smiles, sweet words, and so-called chivalry. This is where benevolent sexism comes in—a form of prejudice that disguises itself as protection, admiration, or even love.

It’s the idea that women are wonderful but weak. That they should be cherished—but not challenged. Respected—but only within certain roles.

And yes, it often shows up in how people help.

Helping as a Trap

Studies (like Shnabel et al., 2016) have shown that people exposed to benevolent sexist messages—things like “women should be protected” or “women are naturally nurturing and delicate”—are more likely to offer dependency-oriented help to women. In other words, they’re more likely to step in and do things for women rather than support them in doing things for themselves.

This kind of help doesn’t empower. It subtly tells women they can’t do it alone. That they need a man’s help. That their strength isn’t real, or isn’t enough.

I’ve seen this in everyday life too—when a woman is talked over in a meeting “because the stakes are too high,” or when she’s handed tasks that are more about care and harmony than leadership and innovation. It’s not always malicious. Sometimes it’s genuinely well-meaning. But that’s what makes it so insidious.

The Gendered Double Standard of Competence

What makes benevolent sexism so frustrating is that it creates a double bind. If a woman accepts the help, she may be seen as confirming the stereotype. If she rejects it, she’s “difficult,” “cold,” or “trying too hard.” The same “help” that’s supposed to lift her up ends up boxing her in.

The message? Be grateful. Stay humble. Know your place.

This form of helping isn’t about lifting others up—it’s about keeping them in their “acceptable” place while making the helper feel good about it.

Rewriting the Script

The good news is, change starts with awareness. When we begin to notice these patterns—when we ask ourselves, Am I helping her because I think she’s less capable?—we create space for a different kind of support. One rooted in equality, not condescension.

True allyship doesn’t mean stepping in to save someone. It means stepping alongside them, trusting their competence, and fighting the systems that make them have to prove it again and again.

If we want a world where helping truly helps, we need to question not only what we do—but why we do it, and what messages it sends.