Why?

Because you want to.

You were curious enough to press the button. That is desire wearing a necktie. Read the rest of this page if you need minutes for the meeting in which you explain what your hand had already decided.

Because it would be an ethical use of profits.

Profits are a little embarrasing when they just sit there becoming larger profits. Turn a bit of yours into the right of a capable person to remain outside everybody’s chain of command. You do not get an employee. Neither does your competitor. Civilization gets the spillover, and you get to look unusually decent over lunch.

Because it will stimulate him to do more and prosper.

Money is famously exchangeable for food, heat, tools, and the sort of roof that stays where it was put. Removing those little administrative emergencies would leave him dangerously free to investigate radios, plants, image tools, peculiar machines, and whatever else has failed to defend itself.

There is already a costed plan involving a courtyard home, a tropical greenhouse hallway, research equipment, fruit trees, radomes, recycled glass, and heroic quantities of melon. A few stupidly silly things may escape the workshop. Some will become useful; others will deliver a donut to a fox by private rail.

Because he deserves it.

He’s been through quite alot: prairie wind, farm chores, two tornadoes, alternative education, employment trying and mostly failing to digest him, long roads, short money, and the ordinary humiliations issued to anybody whose life will not fit in the supplied little box.

Because his offspring will no doubt pay taxes.

This meat popsicle is ready to start a family; the household budget remains frozen. He wants to raise future taxpayers, but still needs the means to give them a stable home, alongside another qualified adult who has reviewed the proposal and somehow still agrees.

Their number, filing status, and willingness to become dentists remain projections, but projections have never stopped a serious investor. This is vertical fiscal integration.

Because he has given away more than it will ever cost you.

Fonts, image tools, experiments, source code, research programs, repaired ideas, and a surprising quantity of hard-won failure have been placed in public where nobody can invoice you for opening the lid.

You have possibly already received your product and simply neglected to pay the invoice. Embarrasing. Fortunately the late fee is just more money.

Because he loves animals. And donuts.

These are the two soundest constituencies in public life. Animals are alive without preparing a pitch deck. Donuts are breakfast without pretending not to be dessert. He approaches both with the respect normally reserved for judges and electrical service panels.

Because he lives with his granny and he needs a place to go.

Multigenerational living is noble right up until cookware becomes a navigational aid. Granny has been patient. He has been present. The cat has remained studiously neutral.

A patron could resolve this domestic arms race by funding an address with one workshop, one greenhouse, and enough distance for both parties to miss each other properly.

Because you can.

If you can spare enough to change someone’s life without diminishing your own, that is a reason to give. A little of your surplus could become his stability, freedom to make useful things, and chance to raise a family.

Good fortune carries some responsibility for the good it could do. Generosity gives you a better answer when somebody eventually asks what you did with yours.

Because if you dont, you wont go to Heaven.

The accounting at the pearly gates is old-fashioned. The ledger is kept by hand. Every closed wallet squeaks loudly in the stillness. When the angel asks what became of the money, “I made the number larger” is going to sound a bit thin.

Give now. Arrive later with the receipt and the quiet confidence of somebody who funded a kosher meat popsicle’s greenhouse.