Defining “Reward”
Identity is that “thing” that ultimately feels.
We do not know the nature of ultimate Reality. So, for lack of a better alternative, we have to define identity based on its function and not on its nature.
Experience is what identity, or “that thing that ultimately feels,” feels.
A reward is what we think will happen as a consequence of our actions.
Direct Rewards Versus “Reward Stories”
A reward can be of the story type (“reward-stories”) when it is based on a story. It stems from the belief that our “good” or “bad” actions will result in a direct payoff for us personally. For example, if I have given a lot to charity, the reward-story says that there will be positive consequences for me in the future.
This is when we believe that a specific action we do, especially a “good” one, will result in a payoff for us personally. For instance, if a beggar asks you for money and you give it to him, he gets a reward (the money) and you may also get a reward, such as if he says “thank you.”
But you may believe that you will also receive an indirect reward such as “karma” or some “gift” from “God.” If you have given a lot to charity and you believe in “reward-stories,” there are positive consequences for the charity, of course. But you may believe that someone or something is “watching you,” and “keeping score,” and maybe there will also be positive consequences for you in the future.
In the reward-story dynamic, actions are motivated by the expectation of a future reward rather than by the experience of the action itself (what I ultimately experience). In other words, the person would not have acted at all without the motivation of the expected reward (reward-story). If I am acting from what I sense the “right thing” is, then I might spontaneously help a single individual in difficulty who happens to cross my path. By contrast, I might give to charity to help a million people, not out of a sense of “doing the right thing,” but in a calculated way, solely to obtain positive consequences for me in the future. Without the reward-story, I would no longer help those million people, but perhaps only that single individual, solely guided by what I feel in my heart.
When you act on a belief in “reward-stories,” you’re not doing something exclusively for the experience itself. You’re doing it because you expect a future reward for you personally. The experience is not enough. You need the motivation of the expected future reward, which is the dynamic of “reward-stories.”
However, if someone in need spontaneously crosses your path and you help them because of what you feel in your heart, you are doing it because you sense it is the “right thing to do.” You did not consider a possible reward for yourself, you did not factor in any possible benefit, and you did not do it for any potential outcome.
What if you gave to a charity to help a million people? You might be doing it in a calculated way with the belief that you will receive benefits to you personally in the future. In that case, you are acting on the belief in “reward-stories,” not acting by following your sense of “doing the right thing.” You are calculating how to get the most reward, driven by a belief in “reward-stories.”
“Moral Compensation”
At times, a person who has performed “good” actions may then also feel entitled to act against what they sense is “doing the right thing,” merely as a form of “moral compensation.”
“Moral compensation” is the idea that doing “good” actions entitles you to make “bad” actions against someone else for your own benefit, and against what you sense is “doing the right thing.”
For instance, I may say that since I have done a lot of things I feel are “good,” such as giving millions to charity, this allows me to do something that I know is not “right” at the expense of someone else. It’s like measuring what we do on a scale with “good works” on one side and “bad works” on the other. I did a lot of “good,” I say, so if I do a little “bad” it will be outweighed – morally compensated – by all the good I’ve done.
Thinking in terms of “moral compensation,” I may say that because of all the times I did “good,” that entitles me to scam a business partner (to do “bad”). I might say, “I’ve helped millions of people. Compared to all that ‘good’ I’ve done, what is the big deal if I scam only this one person? And he’s a real jerk, anyway! He doesn’t donate to charity like I do, so it’s okay if I scam him.” I am aware of what the “right thing to do” is but I don’t do it. I say that all the “good” I’ve done makes up for that.
Tangible Rewards Versus Story-Based Rewards
A reward, on the other hand, can be tangible (not story-based) when it is based on practical experience. If I work, I get paid (tangible reward) and with that money I can pay the rent. In other words, I may accept a job I dislike because the reward I receive (money) is tangible and essential for my survival. I might also work hard and make risky investments because I know that I will then be able to buy that private jet (tangible reward) I want.
Sometimes the reward is not based on a story. Sometimes the reward is “direct,” meaning it is tangible and real, like money. It is not imagined, merely hoped for, or based on “reward-stories” like “I hope I go to heaven.”
Sometimes you might do a job you don’t like. Why do you do that? Because it provides something for you, like money. The reward may be essential for your survival or for something other than survival, such as something you want that is expensive and luxurious.
But either way, the reward is real, not based on “reward-stories.” It is direct. “Indirect” rewards are speculative and come from stories, such as the belief that “If I do this particular thing, I will win the lottery,” or “If I do this, I will go to heaven.”
The fundamental difference between a story-based reward and a tangible reward lies in the nature of the bargain: in the case of the story-based reward, the bargain isn’t real – I simply imagine that “the universe” or “people” will reward me for my actions. It is an illusory expectation. In the case of a tangible reward, I perform an action in return for a reward that someone else has promised me. For example, you work for me for eight hours, and I will pay you 800 dollars.
A reflection: If I give to charity because I expect to gain admiration from my friends, I am not operating under the model of “doing the right thing” – I am just giving to the charity in exchange for the reward of the admiration of my friends, just like someone who works for money.
The Illusion of Proportionality Between Action and Reward
Many of us tend to associate “reward-stories” with certain actions, expecting a return for the actions we take. The greater the amount of action, the greater the “reward” we imagine receiving. If I believe in “reward-stories” and, within my means, I give “100” to charity, I may expect the same amount in return. Then I will assume that giving “1000” will bring a reward of “1000,” and so on, with the imagined return always increasing. However, there is no reason to believe that this linear relationship between quantity and rewards exists, since we do not know the nature of ultimate reality.
We usually believe that whatever effort we put in, we will get a reward in proportion to that effort. This is how it works for direct rewards, such as working a day to get a day’s wage.
But when we make an effort and assume we may receive an indirect reward, we have no idea what the outcome will be. We cannot assume linearity or even proportionality – in fact, we cannot assume we will receive anything at all. That is because we do not know the nature of ultimate Reality. If we believe in “reward-stories,” we might assume that there is a relationship between effort and indirect reward. But we do not know if that relationship exists since we do not understand the nature of ultimate Reality.
What we credit to our “merits” is, in reality, driven by processes and causes we do not understand. Indeed, since we do not know the dynamics of ultimate reality, we cannot be certain that the reward-story we imagine as the consequence of our actions corresponds to the true dynamics of reality. This is because we do not know the dynamics of ultimate reality that led to a given result.
We don’t know how ultimate Reality works, therefore, in terms of indirect rewards, we cannot know if there is a relationship at all between what we do and what we get. Maybe the relationship is cause-and-effect. Maybe it is cause-and-effect plus “something else.” Or maybe there is only “something else.” “Reward-stories” tell us that what we get is based on “merit” but we have no way of knowing if “reward-stories” are anything more than an idea since the nature of ultimate Reality is unknown to us.
Describing Present Experience Without Reward Stories
Since we cannot know the dynamics of ultimate reality, it would make more sense to analyze the facts solely from the perspective of experience itself, rather than from the perspective of the reward-story.
Since we don’t know how ultimate Reality works, it’s better to focus on experience instead of “reward-stories” because at least we know experience exists. If we consider only experience itself and analyze the facts, then the natural conclusion is this: If you like to do something, do it. If you like to help, help. And if you don’t like to do something, don’t do it unless you have to, like earning money to pay your bills – but not because of a story.
When you consider experience – what you do and how it feels – you are examining the facts of experience, only without “reward-stories.” You are making a switch in perspective from dubious “reward-stories” to experience itself.
Reward-stories operate towards both the future and the past: looking to the past, they create the idea that there is some kind of “merit” in what we “are,” and that this merit derives from a past action. It is far more objective to say “I am experiencing wealth” than “I am rich,” or “I am experiencing youth” rather than “I am young.” This exercise helps remind us that we are not our attributes – and that certain attributes are liable to change.
Consider an individual who is rich.
Step One is that he says, “I cannot be rich because of chance. Since I’m rich, I must deserve it.” So he believes that he is rich because of merit.
In Step Two, he says, “Since I deserve to be rich, what does that imply? What have I done to deserve it? I must have done great things in the past.”
Step Three is when he says, “If I did great things in the past, then I’m a great person.”
Step Four is that conclusion: “I am a great person.”
But an alternative way for this person to view his situation is to consider only the experience itself without “reward-stories.” In that case he would simply say, “I am experiencing being rich,” in the same way we experience being sick or hungry or happy.
Rewards and Hoarding
Usually, the focus is on the reward-story rather than the experience. Once we understand that we cannot know the dynamics of ultimate reality, it becomes easier to focus on experience and not reward-stories. When we focus on “reward-stories” instead of present experience, they tend to generate “excesses.”
Most people do not focus on experience itself. Instead, their view is from a “reward-stories” perspective. They assign meaning to experience, which affects their ego, defined as what they believe they are.
When we focus on “reward-stories” we often create “excesses,” but what are “excesses”?
“Excesses” can be seen as a form of “hoarding” of reward-stories – the reward we expect to receive when we believe the reward lies beyond the experience itself, and that we can somehow control whether we get it or not. If I believe that my charitable donations will yield positive consequences for myself, I may think that increasing my donations will lead to ever greater rewards for me. Thus, I slip into “excess” and adopt a “hoarding” attitude toward reward-stories.
I may still be able to get some reward by helping lots of people, but this depends on the way I help.
For example, if I give to a charity, the people that the charity helps do not know I am the giver. If I need help in the future, they will not know I did anything for them in the past. They cannot reciprocate because I am anonymous. But if I help my billionaire friend get out of jail, he may help me one day in return. That’s because he knows who I am and what I did for him. But I don’t expect reciprocation when I give to millions of people who do not know me.
For someone who believes in “reward-stories,” “hoarding” is the idea that the more “good” I do, the more “good” things will happen to me and the more of a “good person” I will be. It is like being a collector of stamps or coins, only in this case the person is collecting “karma,” and he collects as much as he can. In other words, he doesn’t focus on the experience itself but on the reward. Such a person believes the things they do are part of a “transaction”: The more “good” they do, the more positive consequences will come their way and the more rewards they believe they build up for themselves in the future.
They don’t do things for the experience itself. They do things to grow their “collection” of future rewards. Therefore the “excesses” they do are a kind of “hoarding.” To do “excesses” is to do more “good” than you feel like just because you believe you are going to get something for it – it’s transactional.
This person may feel like doing some amount of “good,” but they will push themselves to do more than they feel like doing. They see “doing good” like a “savings account:” The more they put in now, the more they can take out in the future. They don’t necessarily enjoy what they’re doing now, but they believe that someday they will get a benefit from it, an indirect reward.
Direct rewards, like working for a salary, make sense as a transaction, but for indirect rewards, we cannot be sure because we do not know how ultimate Reality works.
Quantity Versus Intensity
When speaking of reward-stories, the language is one of big versus small. When speaking of experience, we can only refer to the greater intensity versus the lesser intensity of the experience. Given that we cannot know the dynamics of ultimate reality, it is therefore much more reasonable to shift from the quantity/value perspective related to the reward-story, to the perspective of more intense/less intense related to the experience.
When we believe in “reward-stories,” we think in terms of big rewards versus small rewards – we think in terms of quantity and value. But when we think in terms of experience, big versus small is not the point. The point is intensity – more intense versus less intense. And since we do not know the dynamics of ultimate Reality, it is better to shift to something we can know and do know, experience and its intensity, instead of something we imagine, like “reward-stories.”
In the experience framework, we do not have to understand the dynamics of anything. The only thing we need is experience, and that’s all we need because our focus is on experience itself and its intensity. When we shift from quality and value in terms of “reward-stories” to intensity of experience, what matters is what we feel in the experience and not projections about future rewards.
In the experience framework, if a poor person gives one dollar to a beggar, or a billionaire gives a million dollars to a beggar, the amount of what is given – the quantity – is no longer our focus. What matters is the experience – how that person feels when they give the money. It may be that the poor person giving a dollar and the billionaire giving a million feel the same when they give.
By refocusing on experience, the “hoarding” of reward-stories falls away, along with the urge to act on the belief that the meaning we attribute to our actions must necessarily carry some “objective” value beyond the experience itself.
Experience happens and then it is gone. Then there is another experience and another, and they pass as well. Experiences do not have to “add up” to something “more” and we cannot “hoard” the “rewards” we believe will come later. There may not be anything to “hoard.”
But when we live in the present, with its intensity of experience, we realize that we do not know how ultimate Reality works. When that occurs, we realize that we cannot guess what exists and does not exist outside of experience, including “reward-stories.” If you want to give to a beggar, give to a beggar. It does not have to be an action that carries meaning or that has some “objective” value. If you want to do something, that alone is reason enough to do it.
Considering Consequences Versus “The Right Thing to Do”
The choice to follow joy and “do the right thing” always comes in the moment; it is never something we can plan. That is why there is no such thing as “it would have been better.”
When you want to do what you sense is “the right thing to do” you focus exclusively on what you sense is the “right thing to do” without considering the consequences. Not considering the consequences is the only way possible to “do the right thing.”
Why?
As soon as you consider the consequences, your choice is no longer based exclusively on doing the “right thing.” It now includes logic and consequences. Therefore there are only two options:
Option #1: Make your decision based exclusively on what you sense “the right thing to do” is without considering the consequences.
Option #2: Make your decision while considering the consequences, meaning your decision will no longer be based exclusively on “doing the right thing.” As soon as you consider anything other than “doing the right thing,” your decision is, by definition, no longer based exclusively on “doing the right thing.”
You either decide to do the “right thing” or you decide to maximize the benefit of the outcome. There are no other choices. It’s like choosing to turn left or right. If you turn left, you cannot turn right.
When you do what you sense “the right thing” is, you will not regret it. That’s because your focus is not on consequences in the future but on doing the “right thing” in the present.
When would you feel regret? When you don’t do what you sense is the “right thing” – and that usually happens when you lack the courage to do what you sense is the “right thing.”
Let’s say you commit a crime – you kill someone – and you don’t get caught. Years pass, then the authorities arrest someone else for your crime. You sense the “right thing to do” is to come forward and confess, take your punishment, and spare the innocent man. In this case, “doing the right thing” requires courage, because by doing the “right thing” you end up in jail.
When you decide, based on what you sense is the “right thing to do,” you will not regret it. It is when you don’t have the courage to do the “right thing” that you will regret it.
“It would have been better” is always a matter of “reward-stories.”
When you act with the belief of “reward-stories,” you may be disappointed because you may not get the reward you expect.
However, when you act from the perspective of “doing the right thing,” you cannot be disappointed because disappointment is about a future outcome – and in this case, you don’t care about the future outcome because your focus is on “doing the right thing” in the present.
If you believe in “reward-stories,” you may be disappointed when you don’t get the reward you expected. However, when your focus is on doing the “right thing,” you cannot be disappointed because there is no expectation of any kind. You only care about doing the “right thing.” You don’t expect anything, so the possibility of disappointment does not exist.
The Impossibility of Knowing the Final Outcome of Our Actions
“Reward-stories” work in both directions: toward the future, and toward the past. Regarding the past, it creates the idea that what we are is the result of “merit,” and that this “merit” derives from past reward-stories. It is much more objective to say “I am experiencing wealth” than to say, “I am rich.”
Sometimes a person believes that if something had gone differently, it would carry a meaning today, that is, it would change who the person is.
If you are playing checkers, you focus on the outcome. But for most things in life, it is impossible to predict the outcome.
Suppose a man owns a horse, and the horse escapes. “That’s bad,” he says.
The next day, the horse returns with two more horses. “That’s great!” he says.
Then he tries to tame the two new horses and breaks his leg. “That’s a terrible outcome!” he says.
While he is recuperating, a war breaks out, but since he broke his leg he cannot fight. “This is good news!” he says.
But after the war, the fighters who return are hailed as heroes, while he gets no glory at all. “That’s bad for me!” he says.
The point is that we cannot know what the final outcome of our actions will be. All we can do is do our best.
Perhaps this is because we are convinced that we are, or have, what we deserve. If we had had more, it would mean that we deserved more. There is a tendency to think that we are what we “deserve.” Yet this is not compatible with the fact that, since we do not know how ultimate reality works, we cannot understand how the mechanism of “merit” works – assuming it exists at all.
This is from belief of “reward-stories.” When you think in terms of “reward-stories” and you give meaning to actions, then you believe in the concept of “merit” – but we have no idea how “merit” might work (if it exists at all) because we do not understand the dynamics of ultimate Reality.
However, if you focus just on experience and doing the right thing, you do not have to believe that you understand how ultimate Reality works. Then you can focus on experience itself and “doing the right thing.”
Identity ⇒ Merit ⇒ Reward
There is a tendency to believe that reward depends on “merit,” and that “merit” is somehow related to identity. This can lead to absurd “hoarding” behaviors, such as accumulating money instead of employing it for useful purposes. We do this to feel superior – telling ourselves that if we have received that reward (money), it means we deserved it, and if we deserved it, it means we are better, and by spending it, even for very useful purposes, we may then be less special.
Let’s consider how reward, merit, and identity are related.
Step One: You know that you are rich.
Step Two: You believe you are rich because you deserve it.
Step Three: You believe that since you deserve it, you must have done “good things” in the past.
Step Four: You believe that these “good things” you did make you a “good person.”
Step Five: You conclude you are a “good person.”
If you believe those five steps are correct, you will conclude that you are a “good person.”
You interpret being rich in the present as a signal that you did “good things” in the past.
Therefore, being less rich could cause you to reinterpret that signal. You might start to ask yourself whether you really did those “good things” in the past.
This can lead to “hoarding.” You may hoard all your money instead of doing useful things with it, because you perceive that having more money is a signal that you did “good things” in the past, and that will confirm to you that you are a “good” person.
A better alternative could be to look at reality through the perspective of “experiencing” instead of “reward-stories” and say, for example, “I am experiencing being rich,” in the same way we experience being sick or hungry or happy. You could decide based on what you sense “the right thing to do” is, such as, “Right now, I sense the right thing to do is give some money to people who need it.”
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