Pojman

EGOISM AND ALTRUISM: A CRITIQUE OF AYN RAND by Louis Pojman

Universal ethical egoism is the theory that everyone ought always to serve his or her own self-interest. That is, everyone ought to do what will maximize one’s own expected utility or bring about one’s own greatest happiness, even if it requires harming others. Ethical egoism is utilitarianism reduced to the pinpoint of the single individual ego. Instead of advocating the greatest happiness for the greatest number, as utilitarianism does, it advocates the greatest happiness for myself, whoever I may be. It is a self-preoccupied prudence, urging one to postpone enjoyment today for long term benefits. In its more sophisticated form, it compares life to a competitive game, perhaps a war-game, and urges each person to try to win in the game of life.

In her books The Virtue of Selfishness and Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand argues that selfishness is a virtue and altruism a vice, a totally destructive idea that leads to the undermining of individual worth. She defines altruism as the view that

Any action taken for the benefit of others is good, and any action taken for one’s own benefit is evil. Thus, the beneficiary of an action is the only criterion of moral value – and so long as the beneficiary is anybody other than oneself, anything goes.

As such, altruism is suicidal:

If a man accepts the ethics of altruism, his first concern is not how to live his life, but how to sacrifice it . . . Altruism erodes men’s capacity to grasp the value of an individual life; it reveals a mind from which the reality of a human being has been wiped out.

Since finding happiness is the highest goal and good in life, altruism, which calls on us to sacrifice our happiness for the good of others, is contrary to our highest good.

Ayn Rand’s argument for the virtue of selfishness is flawed by the fallacy of a false dilemma. It simplistically assumes that absolute altruism and absolute egoism are the only alternatives. But this is an extreme view of the matter. There are plenty of options between these two positions. Even a predominant egoism would admit that sometimes the best way to reach self-fulfillment is for us to forget about ourselves and strive to live for goals, causes, or other persons. Even if altruism is not required (as a duty), it may be permissible in many cases. Furthermore, self-interest may not be incompatible with other-regarding motivation. Even the Second Great Commandment set forth by Moses and Jesus states not that you must always sacrifice yourself for the other person, but that you ought to love your neighbor as yourself (Lev. 19:19; Matt. 23). Self-interest and self-love are morally good things, but not at the expense of other people’s legitimate interests. When there is moral conflict or interests, a fair process of adjudication needs to take place.

But Rand’s version of egoism is only one of many. We need to go to the heart of ethical egoism: the thesis that our highest moral duty is always to promote individual interests. Let us focus on the alleged problems of this thesis.

FOUR CRITICISMS OF ETHICAL EGOISM

The Inconsistent Outcomes Argument

Brian Medlin argues that ethical egoism cannot be true because it fails to meet a necessary condition of morality, that of being a guide to action. He claims that it will be like advising people to do inconsistent things based on incompatible desires. His argument goes like this:

1. Moral principles must be universal and categorical.

2. I must universalize my egoist desire to come out on top over Tom, Dick, and Harry.

3. But I must also prescribe Tom’s egoist desire to come out on top over Dick, Harry, and me.

4. Therefore, I have prescribed incompatible outcomes and have not provided a way of adjudicating conflicts of desire. In effect, I have said nothing.

The proper response to this is that of Jesse Kalin, who argues that we can separate our beliefs about ethical situations from our desires. He likens the situation to a competitive sports event, in which you believe that your opponent has a right to try to win as much as you, but you desire that you, and not he, will in fact win. An even better example is that of the chess game in which you recognize that your opponent ought to move her bishop to prepare for checkmate, but you hope she won’t see the move. Belief that A ought to do Y does not commit you to wanting A to do Y.

The Publicity Argument

On the one hand, in order for something to be a moral theory it seems necessary that its moral principles be publicized. Unless principles are put forth as universal prescriptions that are accessible to the public, they cannot serve as guides to action or as aids in resolving conflicts of interest. But on the other hand, it is not in the egoist’s self-interest to publicize them. Egoists would rather that the rest of us be altruists.

Thus it would be self-defeating for the egoist to argue for her position, and even worse that she should convince others of it. But it is perfectly possible to have a private morality that does not resolve conflicts of interest. So the egoist should publicly advocate standard principles of traditional morality – so that society doesn’t break down – while adhering to a private, non-standard, solely self-regarding morality. So, if you’re willing to pay the price, you can accept the solipsistic-directed norms of egoism.

The Paradox of Egoism

The situation may be even worse than the sophisticated, self-conscious egoist supposes. Could the egoist have friends? And if limited friendship is possible, could he or she ever be in love or experience deep friendship? Suppose the egoist discovers that in the pursuit of the happiness goal, deep friendship is in his best interest. Can he become a friend? What is necessary to deep friendship? A true friend is one who is not always preoccupied about his own interest in the relationship but who forgets about himself altogether, at least sometimes, in order to serve or enhance the other person’s interest. “Love seeketh not its own.” It is an altruistic disposition, the very opposite of egoism. So the paradox of egoism if that in order to reach the goal of egoism one must give up egoism and become (to some extent) al altruist, the very antithesis of egoism.

The Argument from Counterintuitive Consequences

The final argument against ethical egoism is that it is an absolute ethics that nor only permits egoistic behavior but demands it. Helping others at one’s own expense is not only not required, it is morally wrong. Whenever I do not have good evidence that my helping you will end up to my advantage, I must refrain from helping you. If I can save the whole of Europe and Africa from destruction by pressing a button, then so long as there is nothing for me to gain by it, it is wrong for me to press that button. The Good Samaritan was, by this logic, morally wrong in helping the injured victim and not collecting payment for his troubles. It is certainly hard to see why the egoist should be concerned about environmental matters if he or she is profiting from polluting the environment. There is certainly no obligation to preserve scarce natural resources for future generations. “Why should I do anything for posterity?” the egoist asks “What has posterity ever done for me?”

EVOLUTION AND ALTRUISM

If sheer unadulterated egoism is an inadequate moral theory, does that mean we ought to aim at complete altruism, total self-effacement for the sake of others? What is the role of self-love in morality? An interesting place to start answering these queries is with the new field of sociobiology, which theories that social structures and behavior patterns, including morality, have a biological base, explained by evolutionary theory.

In the past, linking ethics to evolution meant justifying exploitation. Social Darwinism justified imperialism and the principle that “Might makes right” by saying that survival of the fittest is a law of nature. This philosophy lent itself to a promotion of ruthless egoism. This is nature’s law, “nature red in tooth and claw.” Against this view ethnologists such as Robert Ardrey and Konrad Lorenz argued for a more benign view of the animal kingdom – one reminiscent of Rudyard Kipling’s, in which the animal kingdom survives by cooperation, which is at least as important as competition. On Ardrey’s and Lorenz’s view it is the group or the species, not the individual, that is of primary importance.

With the development of sociobiology – in the work of E.O. Wilson but particularly the work of Robert Trivers, J. Maynard Smith, and Richard Dawkins – a theory has come to the fore that combines radical individualism with limited altruism. It is not the group or the species that is of evolutionary importance but the gene, or, more precisely, the gene type. Genes – the parts of the chromosomes that carry the blueprints for all our natural traits (e.g., height, hair color, skin color, intelligence) – copy themselves as they divide and multiply. At conception they combine with the genes of a member of the opposite sex to form a new individual.

In his fascinating sociobiological study, Richard Dawkins describes human behavior as determined evolutionarily by stable strategies set to replicate the gene. This is not done consciously, of course, but by the invisible hand that drives consciousness. We are essentially gene machines.

Morality – that is, successful morality – can be seen as an evolutionary strategy for gene replication. Here’s an example: Birds are afflicted with life-endangering parasites. Because they lack limbs to enable them to pick the parasites off their heads, they – like much of the animal kingdom – depend on the ritual of mutual grooming. It turns out that nature has evolved two basic types of birds in this regard: those who are disposed to groom anyone (the nonprejudiced type?), and those who refuse to groom anyone but who present themselves for grooming. The former types of bird Dawkins calls “Suckers” and the latter “Cheaters.”

In a geographical area containing harmful parasites and where there are only whole groups of Suckers or whole groups of Cheaters, Suckers will do fairly well, but Cheaters will not survive, for want of cooperation. However, in a Sucker population in which a mutant Cheater arises, the Cheater will prosper, and the Cheater gene-type will multiply. As the Suckers are exploited, they will gradually die out. But if and when they become too few to groom the Cheaters, the Cheaters will start to die off too and eventually become extinct.

Why don’t birds all die off, then? Well, somehow nature has come up with a third type, call them “Grudgers.” Grudgers groom all and only those who reciprocate in grooming them. They groom each other and Suckers, but not Cheaters. In fact, once caught, a Cheater is marked forever. There is no forgiveness. It turns out that then that unless there are a lot of Suckers around, Cheaters have a hard time of it – harder even than Suckers. However, it is the Grudgers that prosper. Unlike Suckers, they don’t waste time messing with unappreciative Cheaters, so they are not exploited and have ample energy to gather food and build better nests for their loved ones.

J.L. Mackie argues that the real name for Suckers is “Christian,” one who believes in complete altruism, even turning the other cheek to one’s assailant and loving one’s enemy. Cheaters are ruthless egoists who can survive only if there are enough naïve altruists around. Whereas Grudgers are reciprocal altruists who have a rational morality based on cooperative self-interest, Suckers, such as Socrates and Jesus, advocate “turning the other cheek and repaying evil with good.” Instead of a Rule of Reciprocity, “I’ll scratch your back if you’ll scratch mine,” the extreme altruist substitutes the Golden Rule, “If you want the other fellow to scratch your back, you scratch his – even if he won’t reciprocate.”

The moral of the story is this: Altruist morality (so interpreted) is only rational given the payoff of eternal life (with a scorekeeper as Woody Allen says). Take that away, and it looks like a Sucker system. What replaces the “Christian” vision of submission and saintliness is the reciprocal altruist with a tit-for-tat morality, someone who is willing to share with those willing to cooperate.

Mackie may caricature the position of the religious altruist, but me misses the subtleties of wisdom involved (Jesus said, “Be as wise as serpents and as harmless as doves”). Nevertheless, he does remind us that there is a difference between core morality and complete altruism. We have duties to cooperate and reciprocate, but no duty to serve those who manipulate us nor an obvious duty to sacrifice ourselves for people outside our domain of special responsibility. We have a special duty of high altruism towards those in the close circle of our concern, namely, our family and friends.