The Role of Altruism in Ethical Conduct and an Egoist Explanation - Research Paper Example

A difficult philosophical question in the field of ethics stems from the concern that humans never act for the good of others, but only for the good of themselves. That is, the question of altruism assumes that human beings are capable of helping others because they care and want to see the recipients of that help left in a better state, as opposed to the assumption that all human beings are only capable of helping others as a means of benefiting themselves. In such a world where the latter assumption is true, a true altruism (i.e. helping others strictly for their benefit) is impossible. Often, the ethics of altruism is used in cases of emergencies, where some person is drowning, being attached by wolves, or slipped on an icy sidewalk. The ethics of altruism, which society has adopted as a moral code, assume both that humans can act according to the interests of others (instead of only themselves) and that humans ought to act according to the interests of others. Philosophers struggle with the “can” and “ought” questions in ethics, simply because they are two different but not entirely unrelated propositions. A code of ethics that, for instance, ought to be followed but is impossible in reality, in fact, cannot be a valid. Thus, the question of whether every human action is selfish (i.e. of whether altruism is possible) is an immediately relevant question for those who adopt altruism as the best policy. But even if the claim that every human action is selfish is true, that does not mean it is meaningfully true; that is, a truism is hardly worth mentioning. Although psychological egoism, as a theory, is logically well-justified, it is essentially meaningless and devoid of any real value. The notion that all action is selfish requires an explanation of what exactly defines self-interest, or the self’s well-being. For now, the assumption that happiness is equivalent to a person’s self-interest is sufficient. A claim that every human action is rooted in self-interest is the same as saying that every human action seeks some sort of goal conducive to a person’s happiness, which could mean any number of things to individual persons. Beyond defining specifically what constitutes true self-interest, it may be useful to account for the evolutionary aspect of selfishness and happiness. Since every individual organism is driven toward the single-minded goal of reproducing, as a simplified notion of natural selection states, there is a certain degree of single-minded selfishness inherent to our contemporary models of evolution. This is because animals (including humans) are hardwired to survive no matter what the costs; thus, chronic altruism will negatively affect an animal’s chances of surviving long enough to reproduce. If we naively apply this to the theory of ethics, we might be moved to believe that we are basically motivated by our own self-interest. Without looking at research that points to the role of altruism in the promotion of certain genes within a community, our intuitions about the nature of evolution point to the conclusion that, in a majority of cases especially relating to individuals with whom we share many genes, selfish is the most appropriate policy. Even in cases where altruism may help us further our genes, for example by sacrificing ourselves for a family member, the motivation is a selfish one that depends on the self’s interest in expanding one’s genetic influence within the community. This argument from science leads into an argument from common sense: the thought that we see selfish behavior far more often than we see non-selfish behavior. And even in the cases where we see apparently, non-selfish behavior, there may be an underlying motivation which is based on one’s self-interest. Since we, as individuals, cannot access the minds of others to clarify their exact motivations, we can never know whether there is a genuinely altruistic action. Additionally, in our daily life, we often motivate people by appealing to their self-interest through systems of incentives, rewards, and punishments. Children, for example, act altruistically rarely at best and have motivations that are incredibly simple, which are based entirely on the principle that the self comes first. In philosophy, the belief that each individual person acts toward one ultimate aim, his or her own welfare, is known as “psychological egoism”. This theory is descriptive (making a claim about the way things are) rather than normative (making a claim about the way things ought to be). A notion of psychological egoism helps describe why people seek to maximize perceived self-interest and, more importantly, describes why altruistic behavior is impossible. Additionally, believers in psychological egoism believe human beings are capable of acting in their own perceived self-interest. The theory itself thrives on its ability to account for any phenomenon we see in relationships between human beings. A mother’s love for a child, while apparently a case of altruistic and selfless love on its surface, can be dismissed under psychological egoism either as some form of self-fulfilled satisfaction, an expectation of reciprocation, the anticipation of respect, or an anticipation of a reward. Altruism, in this case, is only a means toward the achievement of some self-directed end. This kind of descriptive view is well-represented throughout the history of philosophy. A well-known and commonly-cited example is that of Thomas Hobbes, who wrote, “Every man is presumed to seek what is good for himself naturally, and what is just, only for Peace’s sake, and accidentally” (Hobbes). In other words, man will seek what he wants by nature to the extent that the action is consistent with a peaceful state. In the absence of a peaceful state, or any state at all, as Hobbes proves in his Leviathan, man will seek what he wants regardless of peace, which is what Hobbes means by “accidentally”. Friedrich Nietzsche, another philosopher associated with psychological egoism, wrote in The Dawn, “The mischance of another offends us; it would convict us of our cowardice, if we did not afford relief to it” (Nietzsche §133). Nietzsche’s account here conforms to the psychological egoist’s perception of why people act altruistically: because if they failed to do so, other’s perception of them would be negatively affected. One especially common argument given in support of the psychological egoist thesis is that a person, in all cases, simply does what makes him feel good, thus making all acts inherently selfish. This follows the evolutionary argument given previously: that all living creatures are evolutionarily set to act in a way that furthers their reproductive interests. As an example, consider that John helps a duck across a highway because if John did not act, he would be distraught about the duck’s well-being. In order to feel better about himself, John chooses to help the duck cross the highway. The problem with such a case is that John appears to be an unselfish person or one that derives pleasure from helping others; but a closer look at his motivations reveal otherwise. For a selfish person, there is a lack of concern for the duck at the outset. By looking deeper into John’s motivations, as a psychological egoist does in order to ask why John receives gratification from assisting the duck, one inevitably reaches the conclusion that John is concerned for only the self. A common objection to psychological egoism states that one must wish for things other than one’s own welfare in order to receive welfare. For instance, in the case of John and the duck, John derives welfare from helping the duck across the highway. Unless John actually desires to help the duck for its own sake, John could not develop his own welfare from helping. In another example, if John derived welfare from playing guitar; in that case, unless John actually desires to play guitar for its own sake, John could not derive welfare from playing his guitar. The sum of these different arguments is that selfish welfare will ultimately from one’s actions, but that such welfare cannot form the only purpose of one’s actions. Additionally, one’s own welfare is often too abstract to act on in a concrete way; that is, since selfish welfare differs so much between individuals, definitions of welfare meant to apply to all human beings simultaneously will inevitably fail to capture the whole picture. But psychological egoism does not fail because of this objection. Those who believe all human actions are inherently selfish or rooted in some form of selfishness, may acknowledge that John has wants and needs for particular things, such as helping the duck across the highway and playing his guitar; however, psychological egoists need not concede that the consummation of such wants and needs is not a portion of one’s welfare. That is, welfare may actually comprise of nothing more than the fulfillment of selfish desires. Once again, in such cases of finding welfare from assisting other people and animals, a psychological egoist will once more concede that one could not draw satisfaction in the absence of desire for some particular thing; moreover, the egoist is not committed to the claim that what one desires for its own sake is that the recipient of the ethical action (for example, the troubled duck) do well. The fact that John is the person who assists the ducks could, for instance, placate his selfish desires for stewardship over the natural world. But dealing with this objection produces a more troubling issue for the theory of psychological egoism. A more pressing question for the theory to answer is one of explanation: for example, an explanation for the fact that some behaviors do not warrant explanation with reference to self-regarding desires. To use concrete terms, consider if John was a combat soldier who, in the heat of battle, sacrificed his life by jumping on top of a grenade in order to save the lives of others. In this case, it does not seem obvious (or even likely) that John is pursuing his perceived self-interest. In fact, if John were asked about his action had he survived, it is likely that he would have claimed that he sacrificed himself by absorbing the grenade blast because of the desire to save his fellow soldiers’ lives or because to do so was his duty to his country and his fellow servicemen. Along with anyone else familiar with John’s sacrifice, John would quickly reject the notion that his action was undertaken in selfish desire. A psychological egoist may say that John is self-deceived or outright untruthful. Maybe John sacrificed himself so that he would not have to bear the guilt of not doing so afterward. In different terms, John bettered his life and welfare by dodging years of depression and guilt about the event. But even though this is a plausible application to some case, to claim it covers all cases is a different assertion all together. A different issue to be addressed here is that feelings of guilt presume that John has a non-selfish (or altruistic) longing for what is right. John took the course of action he decided was best for him, and thus pursued his perceived self-interest. This may be true if an individual’s self-interest is identical to the consummation of one's desires; in such a case, every voluntary action is self-interested, at least in the sense that all intentional actions are described in terms of preferences. On this concept of descriptive egoism, the belief that all human actions are rooted in selfishness is only trivially true. Although a claim or belief may be “trivially true”, this does not mean it is meaningful or even worth discussing. For instance, the claim “All white doves are white”, which is a truism, is true but meaningless. This idea of psychological egoism as trivially true will not satisfy those who believe in the selfishness of all actions; rather, their ideas are based on an apparently empirical theory that is to some degree falsifiable by scientific observations. However, there is no way to falsify psychological egoism because, as mentioned previously, there is no way to enter the minds of those who commit apparently altruistic acts and to analyze their true motivations. The psychological egoist’s “scientific” model precludes the possibility of alternative explanations, which is one of the core prerequisites for the scientific method. An empirical theory of egoism cannot distinguish between John, who voluntarily falls on the grenade to save others’ lives, and Sam, who voluntarily pushes Adam onto the grenade to save his own life, in terms of the two men’s selfishness. Under a trivially true theory, they are acting equally selfishly. There are, in fact, some empirical objections to psychological egoism to consider. The first of these is the claim from recent scientific research that evolutionary theory supports the role of altruism in ethical conduct. Essentially, parental care could be described with equal explanatory validity both on egoistic grounds and on altruistic grounds. Under an egoist explanation, a belief about the child's distress causes the parent pain that the parent believes she can alleviate by helping, or the parent believes that she will be caused pain if she does not help. Under an altruist explanation, parental care might also be explained the parent has a non-instrumental desire that the child do well. Some maintain that better care is delivered under the altruistic model. With the significance of parental care, there is reason to believe natural selection would favor altruism as the model for parental care; likewise, an egoistic model is less reliable for several reasons: beliefs about the child's distress may fail to cause the parent and the parent may fail to believe that helping will best reduce her pain. A second empirical objection to psychological egoism involves empathy and helping behavior. Altruistically, empathy causes a natural want to help. Egoistically, empathy causes unpleasant experiences that subjects believe they can stop by helping. Relative to the egoistic model, the altruistic hypothesis makes superior predictions (Batson). For instance, supplying high-empathy subjects with simple ways of stopping another’s pain other than by helping did not reduce helping behavior. Against the egoist model that by helping others one will not be punished for standing by, researchers found that allowing high-empathy subjects to thing that their behavior would be secret did not reduce helping. In each of these experiments, Batson revealed that theorized self-interest often differs from perceived self-interest when one is put into a circumstance in which threats are being posed to others. Thus, there is proof that is even more difficult to demonstrate other individuals’ motives. In response to some of these criticisms, there may be even weaker versions of psychological egoism to account for a less comprehensive view of human selfishness. One of these weaker theses is so-called “predominant egoism”, which proposes that all human actions are predominantly selfish. In other words, people act unselfishly very infrequently; in those cases, when a person acts unselfishly, it is typically because a sacrifice is small and gain for other people is large or, in some other case, where the beneficiaries of that action are the actor’s family, friends or belief systems. This notion of “predominant egoism” resists troubles posed by John’s sacrifice by falling on the grenade in battle insofar as it allows exceptions to the general dictates of traditional psychological egoism. Otherwise, it is not trivially true like the general theory, and it allows for individuals to treat others as higher values than themselves. In other words, instead of people being always interested in the continuance of their own lives as a self-centered being, a person can hold a family member or a group of strangers as a higher value, thus making the sacrifice small and staying within the limits of the predominant egoist theory. Another weak version of psychological egoism is that proposed by Hugh LaFollette in “The Truth in Psychological Egoism”, in which he claims “a person will continually engage in an activity only if it has the effect of satisfying what she perceives to be in her self-interest” (503). This means that people are not always only led by the promotion of their self-interest; rather, people do not continually act in ways that do not promote their self-interest. To use an example, John does not continue to visit a psychiatrist even though he does not need psychological help, since that continued act does not seem to promote his self-interest. Along the lines of “predominant egoism”, this weaker version of psychological egoism acknowledges the fact that some of a person’s interests do not pertain entirely to the self, but maybe to some other people whose interests are of particular concern to oneself (LaFollette 504). With the general descriptive question of “can” addressed quite thoroughly, now consider the question of “ought”; that is, even though it is trivially true that all human actions are rooted in a self-interested motivation, this selfishness can be good. This is precisely the question that philosopher and psychologist Nathaniel Branden sets out to answer in his short essay “Isn’t Everyone Selfish?” He dismisses this claim as cynical and an avoidance of a clear fact: people are psychologically conflicted on their choice in moral thinking. On one hand, people believe that acting selfishly is categorically bad and evil; on the other hand, people realize that they must act selfishly in order to survive. This essential “clash” between egoism and altruism lies at the root of the question of who ought to be the recipient of my moral action. In the opinion of Branden, the proper recipient is oneself because one’s own life makes the concept of “value” possible. Without one’s own life, no value would be possible; so, to say that one’s primary moral purpose is to serve others cannot be correct. But if the fact that everyone acts selfishly is trivially true, Branden must blur the distinction between selfish and self-sacrificial. He does this by relying on a refined definition of self-interest; rather than seeing self-interest as “welfare” or “happiness” as those who advocate psychological egoism often do, one might think of self-interest as (a) a hierarchy of value set by the standard of one’s self-interest, and (b) a refusal to sacrifice higher values for lower (or zero) values (Branden 46). A genuinely selfish man determines his self-interest with the use of reason, for it is only by reason a person can survive in society. To use another example, the case of Jim the thief, there is a definite distinction between stealing for survival and working for survival. While it may seem stealing is his selfish best-interest, this is not a rational self-interest, or as Branden argues, selfishness at all. Since man’s interest in survival is objective, actions he undertakes for that pursue or detract from that goal are objectively selfish or self-destructive. To say that self-interest (as objective, rational interests) is not simply the self’s welfare or subjective feelings of happiness means that emotions are not a criterion of ethics. Also, it means that the versions of psychological egoism previously considered as “trivially true” are substantially false, since it is empirically clear that human beings are not perfectly rational creatures who pursue their rational self-interest faultlessly in every case. Rather, most people believe that whatever selfish whim they feel at any time is properly considered a part of their self-interest, and under psychological egoism, this is true of every action one undertakes. The psychological egoism do not deny that altruistic-minded people may deliberately act against their own rationally selfish happiness, but that this action is still “selfish” if there is some higher value they are acting toward, such as respect from others or feelings of charity. But if such men are acting against their own objective interests, there is no sense in which they are acting selfishly. As Branden explains, “the basic fallacy in the ‘everyone is selfish’ argument consists of an extraordinarily crude equivocation. It is a psychological truism—a tautology—that all purposeful behavior is motived. But to equate ‘motivated behavior’ with ‘selfish behavior’ is to blank out the distinction between an elementary fact of human psychology and the phenomenon of ethical choice” (Branden 48). The belief that every human action is rooted in a self-serving motivation is trivially true to the extent that one could interpret any human action as selfish. Nevertheless, this does not imply that the claim itself is meaningful or even worth discussing. Conversely, it is important to discuss whether selfishness (and altruism) is itself a good or bad thing, especially in the context of theories that claim, on the basis of rational self-interest, that such self-serving motivation is good when it promotes one’s own life. This is just one more case in which a description (of psychological egoism) of behavior has become a prescription (of rational egoism) of behavior. Works Cited Batson, Daniel. The Altruism Question. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum Associates, 1991. Branden, Nathaniel. "Isn't Everyone Selfish?" Rand, Ayn. The Virtue of Selfishness. New York: Signet, 1964. Hobbes, Thomas. De Cive (The Citizen): Philosophical Rudiments Concerning Government and Society. New York: Dodo Press, 2009. LaFollette, Hugh. "The Truth in Psychological Egoism." Feinberg, Joel. Reason and Responsibility. 7th. Belmont: Wadsworth, 1988. 500-507. Nietzsche, F.W. The dawn of day. Trans. J. Volz. London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1903. Read More