You want a friend in Washington? Get a dog!
— Harry S. Truman
This interesting discussion of altruism (a topic which seems to interest mainly libertarians these days) triggered thoughts of Harry’s maxim:
What are friends for and how can a friendship be tested? By behaving altruistically, would be the most common answer and by sacrificing one’s interests in favour of one’s friends. Friendship implies the converse of egoism, both psychologically and ethically. But then we say that the dog is “man’s best friend”. After all, it is characterized by unconditional love, by unselfish behaviour, by sacrifice, when necessary. Isn’t this the epitome of friendship? Apparently not. On the one hand, the dog’s friendship seems to be unaffected by long term calculations of personal benefit. But that is not to say that it is not affected by calculations of a short-term nature. The owner, after all, looks after the dog and is the source of its subsistence and security. People – and dogs – have been known to have sacrificed their lives for less. The dog is selfish – it clings and protects what it regards to be its territory and its property (including – and especially so – the owner). Thus, the first condition, seemingly not satisfied by canine attachment is that it be reasonably unselfish.
I’ve always been intrigued by the notion that what we call “altruism” is at heart often a form of selfishness. It’s one of society’s many unsolvable contradictions.
The author touches on this when he implicitly acknowledges that such “altruism” is an internalized response to fear of punishment (or shame, which is a form of punishment) at the hands of society:
The first order desire of the donator is to avoid anxiety feelings generated by a cognitive dissonance. In the process of socialization we are all exposed to altruistic messages. They are internalized by us (some even to the extent of forming part of the almighty superego, the conscience). In parallel, we assimilate the punishment inflicted upon members of society who are not “social” enough, unwilling to contribute beyond that which is required to satisfy their self interest, selfish or egoistic, non-conformist, “too” individualistic, “too” idiosyncratic or eccentric, etc. Completely not being altruistic is “bad” and as such calls for “punishment”. This no longer is an outside judgement, on a case by case basis, with the penalty inflicted by an external moral authority. This comes from the inside: the opprobrium and reproach, the guilt, the punishment (read Kafka). Such impending punishment generates anxiety whenever the person judges himself not to have been altruistically “sufficient”. It is to avoid this anxiety or to quell it that a person engages in altruistic acts, the result of his social conditioning. To use the Butler scheme: the first-degree desire is to avoid the agonies of cognitive dissonance and the resulting anxiety. This can be achieved by committing acts of altruism. The second-degree desire is the self-interest to commit altruistic acts in order to satisfy the first-degree desire. No one engages in contributing to the poor because he wants them to be less poor or in famine relief because he does not want others to starve. People do these apparently selfless activities because they do not want to experience that tormenting inner voice and to suffer the acute anxiety, which accompanies it. Altruism is the name that we give to successful indoctrination. The stronger the process of socialization, the stricter the education, the more severely brought up the individual, the grimmer and more constraining his superego – the more of an altruist he is likely to be. Independent people who really feel comfortable with their selves are less likely to exhibit these behaviours.
Much of this rings true for me, and I have discussed my former communitarianism and my break with it before. (I’ve confessed some awful sins, too!)
This is not to knock sincere friendship, which means more to me than almost anything, and to which I attach the highest possible value. But how on earth can anyone honestly claim to be a “friend,” say, of “the poor”? (Or any other group; for that matter, even “the rich”!) It is simply not possible to be friends with people you do not know and have never met, and I don’t trust people who claim to be acting on behalf of others, who claim to know what’s best for them, etc.
The successfully indoctrinated, though, are easy to “convince.” Somehow, I wouldn’t find it emotionally rewarding to convince the already indoctrinated. But as I say that, I must freely admit that such behaviors put many people on the road to riches. I’ve known a lot of rich trial lawyers who made millions “helping the poor” — and whose attentive minions agreed with them wholeheartedly as they shared in the contingent fee loot. You don’t have to live like Mother Teresa to be a successful “altruist.”
But it begs the question of what is truly altruism. I have no problem with altruism that is voluntarily chosen, like charity. But once it’s forced on others (whether by indocrination or at gunpoint), it’s just another form of dishonesty. A con game unworthy of respect. Not that I don’t respect the power of the altruist police to throw me in jail if I don’t pay up. But respecting power is not the type of respect I mean. No one can make me respect a theory. Asking me to acknowledge that altruism at gunpoint is a social good is like asking me to believe that the cop who pulls me over for going 65 miles per hour on a highway marked 55 but designed to be safe at 85 is “helping” to protect my “safety.” No; he’s gathering revenue. And it all goes into the greedy hands of people who act in the name of altruism.
Of course, if pulled over, I would freely acknowledge my sins, in the most penitent manner possible. I would act ashamed. Contrite. Respectful. And if it were demanded of me, I would freely “acknowledge” that the officer was protecting society — and me. Yes, my behavior would be dishonest by any standard.
But not as dishonest as it would if I believed my lies. I often wonder how many of the “successfully indoctrinated” are truly indoctrinated, or whether they’ve just forced themselves to keep their natural selfishness in the closet.
Question: isn’t the desire to avoid punishment (or shame) grounded in rational selfishness?
If so, what virtue is there in having people confuse punishment avoidance with sincere belief?
I’ve long suspected there’s a huge closet of insincere altruists who’d love to come out, but the Democrats and the Republicans keep them fighting.