Psychological egoism and altruism

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Egotist, n. A person of low taste, more interested in himself than in me. – Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary (https://www.thedevilsdictionary.com/e.html) Understanding our circle of concern may help us understand what a “self” is. We won’t be saying much about egotism with a “t.” Psychological egoism is a technical phrase in philosophy. Egoism is not necessarily the same nasty character trait we point out when we accuse someone of being “egotistical.” Psychological egoism is a theory in moral psychology which claims that, unless pathologically irrational, people always act in their self-interest. It is, in fact, assumed by major theories in ethics such as utilitarianism and Kantianism.[1](#sdfootnote1sym) A story, likely apocryphal, goes that Abraham Lincoln, riding in a coach between towns to give campaign speeches, was having an argument with a companion about whether people always act in self-interest. Lincoln took the side that they do. In the middle of the discussion, as they were crossing a stream, they saw pig struggling in the mud on the bank, apparently unable to get free. Lincoln ordered the coach to stop. He waded into the mud to help the pig, soiling his formal attire. Back in the coach, his companion called out this seeming hypocritical behavior on Lincoln’s part. Didn’t he blatantly put the interest of the pig before his own? “No,” said Lincoln, “I wouldn’t be able to live with the thought of not helping the pig. I took minor pains to avoid the greater distress I know it would cause me not to help the pig. In what way is that not looking out for my well-being?” Psychological egoism asserts that, assuming we know what we are doing and are not mentally indisposed, whenever we act, we act so as to minimize our own distress or optimize our welfare. Even when it might appear that others are the target of concern, the controlling concern is ours. Certainly, we may make sacrifices for others, but it is because their distress would cause our distress that we act. It always comes back to us. But this theory is questioned by some since it seems to deny the possibility that a rational human act can be solely concerned with another. It seems to deny the possibility of altruism, the idea that pure other-regard is possible. Indeed, psychological egoism seems, as defined, to be vacuously true: true, but not very enlightening, a bit like saying the Pope is Catholic. We want, sometimes, to say that some acts can be somewhat or utterly selfless – acts where the motivation in little or no way includes self-interest. (Maybe these are rare, but they don’t seem impossible.) To get a clearer picture of moral psychology, we will also look at counter-theories to psychological egoism – theories that suggest that there is more to human motivation than self-interest. Self-interest alone doesn’t explain much of our evolutionary success (such as it is), nor explain our reaction to disasters that do not implicate us directly except through a capacity to transcend ourselves and, not only ourselves, but the interests of larger communities, even everyone – even everything alive.[2](#sdfootnote2sym) But first, what would it take not to be an egoist? Suppose an agent acts in such a way that greatly benefits another but the agent in this case actually gains nothing, may even know they will feel guilt for having helped the other in this apparently benevolent way. Suppose you come to learn that someone you absolutely detest and whom you wish nothing good has a rare blood type and will die without a transfusion, and you also have this rare blood-type, and, at little cost to you, could donate your blood and save their life. Suppose, this person is a recognized blight on humanity and whose continued existence would be an evil, an evil you would be complicit in bringing about. Your community fully supports this judgment… Still, in spite of this, you donate blood to them. Are you insane? You stand to gain nothing from your act, have every re