I saw an unopened letter today, addressed to my roommate. You could tell by its lack of sender that it was unsolicited. But instead of luring you to open it by false claims of importance or time sensitivity, it appealed to your sense of compassion. “Please, do not discard,” it read. I felt a certain sense of weariness in the words, a surrender. The cheap envelope offered little privacy to its contents, which I could see proclaimed “0.0%” in a large, black font. That, too, seemed defeatist. “Please, just take it. It’s free. If only you would, out of kindness, not discard this letter.”