Lucas Moore

Luke Moore talks about why he took the 10% Pledge at age 17, the impact he's had so far, and his commitment to lifelong giving.

Why I took the 🔸10% Pledge before earning an income

, and it changed my life. It opened my eyes to the immense privilege of ‘normal’ people in high-income countries compared to the rest of the world. Coming from a family where both my parents were part-time primary school teachers, I never thought of us as among the wealthiest globally—yet, with a 

. The talk also emphasised that our donations could have an enormous, and measurable, impact—you don’t just have to give and hope it does something. This resonated deeply with me, and I took 

I wasn’t yet earning any income as I was still in high-school and then at university, so initially, I donated £10 a month to the 

. (When you take the 10% Pledge as a student, you’re committing to give 1% of your spending money. The 10% kicks in once you start earning a stable income). For me, 1% of spending money was roughly £100 a year—less than the cost of a couple of pints each month. 

As a student, I found giving incredibly manageable and was able to increase my donations to £50 a month in my final years as I started earning a small amount tutoring. It wasn’t hard and, honestly, it felt really rewarding to be able to make an impact, even on a small student budget. Living in alignment with my values gave my life a real sense of purpose.

Getting into the habit of giving early on has been great. Giving has become a core part of my identity, something I feel really proud of. Once I got my first proper job and was working full-time, starting to give 10% of my income was easy. I just set it aside each month and hardly noticed it was gone. Since I had never gotten used to the extra 10%, I didn’t feel like I was sacrificing anything—which is part of why I think pledging while still a student is actually a really great idea. Of course, major life changes—like buying a house, getting married, or starting a family—might cause some changes in my giving. But the 10% Pledge is a 

 commitment, and I plan to donate more now in order to give myself some wiggle room if I end up needing it; I also know I can (and will) make up for any lower year by giving more in the next (or the next few).

So, what have my donations actually done?

I’m proud to say that my giving has so far protected about 100 families from malaria, prevented around 700 tons of CO2eq from entering the atmosphere (roughly equivalent to the individual carbon footprint of taking about 

) and doubled the annual income of 12 families living in extreme poverty in the global south through direct cash transfers. I’ve also supported alternative protein research, initiatives to reduce (and I hope end) factory-farming, and projects to address risks that threaten the future of our life on Earth.

My giving has also so far saved the life of at least one child under the age of five

In some ways, this is just a drop in the ocean given how unequal and unfair the disparities in health outcomes are between people living in the world today. But while I acknowledge these inequalities and do my best to also campaign and vote in ways which I hope and believe will bring about a world where giving 10% is no longer necessary, I also want to celebrate the meaning of the individual life that now gets to be lived by another person who I will never know or meet, but whose life I can imagine. And imagining the whole life of this person—the highs, the lows, and all the ordinary days in between—reminds me how alike we all are, bound together by the same hopes, joys, and experiences that make us human.

To me though, the Pledge is not just about what 

can do with my donations. I believe that the cumulative effect of 

each of us giving effectively and significantly can lead to monumental change on a global level

. By taking the 10% Pledge and joining this global movement, I feel that I’ve been able to play a role in a larger narrative of hope and progress. Now 

almost 10,000 people, from more than 100 countries, have taken the 10% Pledge

) to donate a portion of their income to effective charities. Together, our giving can transform lives, uplift communities, and address the most pressing challenges of our time.

So since it’s Pledge Week – here’s a quick plug (and honestly, I would say this any week of the year because it’s always a good time to pledge!):

, as a student or otherwise, my advice is simple: just do it! Taking the 10% Pledge has been one of the best decisions of my life – each month, the ten percent I spend on donations is, by far, the use of money that brings me 

. Sure, it can feel daunting, but the sense of purpose and joy that comes from giving is unparalleled. That said, I don’t think that giving is or should be about us, I think it’s about the huge positive impact that can be achieved by strategically giving away a relatively small portion of the resources that we have by virtue of nothing other than the blind luck of birth. If you're hesitant, consider starting with 

 and see how it feels! And who knows? This could be the start of one of the most meaningful commitments you'll ever make.

10% Pledger Lucas Moore shares how Peter Singer's ideas shook his sense of what's "normal" and inspired him to take the 10% Pledge — and why it's been one of the best decisions he's ever made. 

How Peter Singer’s ideas transformed my life

! We're encouraging pledgers to share their stories, quotes, memories, and hopes for the Pledge and for Giving What We Can. Kicking things off over on our side, here's a story from our very own Effective Giving Global Coordinator and Incubator Luke Moore! We hope it hits home for you as much as it did for us :) 

When I first encountered Peter Singer’s work back in 2017, it felt a bit like a moral earthquake. The ethical ground I knew shifted beneath my feet, and I suddenly found myself seeing the world through a radically different lens. For years, I had lived with a sense of general discomfort about inequality, but it was abstract, something I thought about in passing but didn’t feel compelled to act on. Singer’s ideas shook me out of that complacency. He didn’t just present a theoretical case for why we should care about the suffering of others; he made it personal. He showed that, if we’re honest, we all have an 

 to act — and that the moral cost of inaction is far higher than we typically acknowledge.

Singer’s central insight is deceptively simple. He uses the metaphor of a child drowning in a pond. Most of us would have no hesitation jumping in to save that child, even if it meant ruining our clothes or being late for an important meeting. The morality is crystal clear: the child’s life is worth more than our inconvenience, or the cost of replacing our laptop and clothes. But then Singer makes a more troubling point: every day, people around the world are drowning in poverty and preventable diseases, and we are ignoring it. Just like that child in the pond, they need help. Yet unlike the child, they aren’t right in front of us, and we don’t feel the same moral urgency to act.

For me, the shift happened when I realised the stark inequality that comes with being born in a high income country. I wasn’t wealthy by any stretch, but simply by the fact that I was born to parents with a median household income in the UK, I actually was among the richest people in the world. That realisation hit me with some force. Why wasn’t I, and everyone I knew, doing more? Here I was, with access to resources that could dramatically improve the lives of others, and yet I had been living as if this disparity just didn’t exist. The wealth and security I took for granted — the ability to go to the doctor, access to education, to live in a safe home — were luxuries that far too many people will never experience.

For many of us, the privilege of living in a high-income country can make global inequality seem abstract. It’s easy to feel that the problem is just too large, too distant to have any real bearing on our lives. But that’s exactly what Singer challenges us to reconsider: just because we don’t see the suffering up close doesn’t mean it’s not happening. And just because it’s far away doesn’t mean we don’t have a moral responsibility to do something about it.

Once you accept the idea that we should help, the next question becomes, how? The obvious answer might be to donate to charity, but not all charities are created equal. This is where Singer’s work connects to something deeply practical: the importance of effective giving. Not all donations are equally impactful. It’s not just about giving more; it’s about giving wisely.

Take malaria, for example. A bed net costs just a few pounds, and yet it can protect a child from a disease that kills around 600,000 people each year. It’s hard to think of a more cost-effective intervention, and yet most people have no idea that something as simple as a bed net could save a life. This is where Singer’s philosophy becomes more than an abstract moral principle: it becomes a call to action. It’s about recognizing that, when we give, we should give to organisations that have a proven track record of turning donations into life-saving interventions.

This idea of “effective altruism,” which is central to Singer’s work, changed how I thought about giving. It wasn’t enough to give a small amount here and there to whatever charity seemed worthy, or asked. I began to research where my money could have the most impact. I came across organisations like GiveWell, which evaluates charities based on their cost-effectiveness at improving lives, and I saw just how much more could be done with even a modest amount.

This was a moment of real personal reckoning. I couldn’t ignore the fact that, as someone with access to fantastical resources (by global standards), I had a responsibility to act. Singer had made the moral case — and the practical case — for why I should give more, but also why I should give smarter.

Singer’s work introduced me to Giving What We Can, an organisation that supports a global movement of people committed to giving effectively and significantly. Seeing so many others who had already taken the 10% Pledge — committing to donate 10% of their income to highly effective charities for the rest of their lives — inspired me to take that step myself. Taking the pledge didn’t just feel like a moral decision; it felt like a step toward consistency. I had been thinking about these issues for years, but the pledge was the moment I decided to stop just thinking and start doing. It was the moment I said: “I can make a difference, and I will”.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned through this process, it’s that the biggest obstacle to giving is often inaction, not a lack of resources. For most of us, the question isn’t whether we can afford to give; it’s whether we’re willing to prioritise the lives of others over fleeting luxuries that ultimately matter far less.

Singer’s work helped me see that we can — and should — be doing more to help others. It’s easy to feel like we’re too small, too distant, or too overwhelmed by the world’s problems to make a real difference. But the truth is, when we choose to act, the impact is larger than we realise.

That’s why I’m inviting you to take the pledge too. By doing so, you’ll commit to donating a portion of your income to the most effective charities out there. It’s not about making a grand gesture or feeling morally superior. It’s about making a consistent, thoughtful decision to join a global movement and together help solve some of the world's biggest problems.

Peter Singer’s ideas were a turning point for me, and I believe they can be for you too. Take the pledge. Start giving. Because we all have the power to make a difference, and now we know how to do it.

Lucas is the Partnerships Manager at Giving What We Can, where he develops and manages Pledge Partnerships with organisations that share GWWC’s vision of a world in which giving effectively and significantly is a cultural norm. In this role he also works to coordinate the broader effective giving ecosystem and 

support the incubation of new effective giving initiatives

Lucas has a background in social entrepreneurship. Before joining GWWC, he co-founded a company providing non-profits with the infrastructure needed to run book giveaways. Lucas holds an MA (Hons) in Philosophy from Edinburgh University.

In his free time, Lucas enjoys thru-hiking, board-games and cooking. He is also interested in meditation and periodically takes time-off for meditation retreats.

Lucas develops and manages partnerships with organisations that share GWWC’s vision of a world in which giving effectively and significantly is a cultural norm.

Lucas Moore

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Why I took the 🔸10% Pledge before earning an income

How Peter Singer’s ideas transformed my life