> However, you can't become and definitely won't stay a billionaire if you give away your money.
It's very possible that I won't, no. But I also don't think I'm naive.
I run a company. I founded it without funding from venture capitalists, so that no one will ever be able to tell me to sell anyone out. One of the first things I wrote down was that I would never lie, mislead, or otherwise tell anything less than the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. And right now, my company is functioning and profitable, while doing - at least as far as I can tell - no harm to anyone.
Yeah, being a horrible human being means you're free to do everything to your game-theoretic advantage. But you can choose not to do that. You can win without choosing to do that. You just have to know, crystal clear, from day one, that you'd rather make one million dollars ethically than two million dollars unethically.
Similarly, will people sometimes abuse your kindness? Yeah, sure. But you can give your kindness knowing that that's part of the cost of doing business - especially if you're successful enough that you can afford the loss.
You ever read Les Miserables? There's a scene where Jean Valjean, who has been taken in briefly by a kindly bishop, steals some of his valuables out of desperation. He's caught by the police, who arrest him and bring him back:
“Ah! here you are!” [the Bishop] exclaimed, looking at Jean Valjean. “I am glad
to see you. Well, but how is this? I gave you the candlesticks too,
which are of silver like the rest, and for which you can certainly get
two hundred francs. Why did you not carry them away with your forks and
spoons?”
Jean Valjean opened his eyes wide, and stared at the venerable Bishop
with an expression which no human tongue can render any account of.
“Monseigneur,” said the brigadier of gendarmes, “so what this man said
is true, then? We came across him. He was walking like a man who is
running away. We stopped him to look into the matter. He had this
silver—”
“And he told you,” interposed the Bishop with a smile, “that it had
been given to him by a kind old fellow of a priest with whom he had
passed the night? I see how the matter stands. And you have brought him
back here? It is a mistake.”
“In that case,” replied the brigadier, “we can let him go?”
“Certainly,” replied the Bishop.
The gendarmes released Jean Valjean, who recoiled.
“Is it true that I am to be released?” he said, in an almost
inarticulate voice, and as though he were talking in his sleep.
“Yes, thou art released; dost thou not understand?” said one of the
gendarmes.
“My friend,” resumed the Bishop, “before you go, here are your
candlesticks. Take them.”
He stepped to the chimney-piece, took the two silver candlesticks, and
brought them to Jean Valjean. The two women looked on without uttering
a word, without a gesture, without a look which could disconcert the
Bishop.
Jean Valjean was trembling in every limb. He took the two candlesticks
mechanically, and with a bewildered air.
“Now,” said the Bishop, “go in peace. By the way, when you return, my
friend, it is not necessary to pass through the garden. You can always
enter and depart through the street door. It is never fastened with
anything but a latch, either by day or by night.”
Then, turning to the gendarmes:—
“You may retire, gentlemen.”
The gendarmes retired.
Jean Valjean was like a man on the point of fainting.
The Bishop drew near to him, and said in a low voice:—
“Do not forget, never forget, that you have promised to use this money
in becoming an honest man.”
Jean Valjean, who had no recollection of ever having promised anything,
remained speechless. The Bishop had emphasized the words when he
uttered them. He resumed with solemnity:—
“Jean Valjean, my brother, you no longer belong to evil, but to good.
It is your soul that I buy from you; I withdraw it from black thoughts
and the spirit of perdition, and I give it to God.”