Can It Be Rational to Be an Altruist?
In the wisdom literature of the world one sometimes comes across the claim or suggestion that to devote oneself to helping others is the road to personal salvation. Despite its overt paradoxicality, this idea can have an immediate appeal whenever life’s burdens on oneself appear insupportable, or one’s deepest desires unattainable. But it might also be mere superstition, or a hoax evolution has played on us to enlist our efforts on behalf of the group, or men on women to secure their services, etc. Of course some kind of attention and even sacrifice for the welfare of others or society as a whole makes sense even to an egoist, insofar as every individual relies on the well-functioning of those entities for her own welfare. But can it be rational to substitute genuine caring about any and all others who are in real need, consistently with a thoroughgoing altruism, for caring about oneself (except insofar as one’s own welfare must be maintained to support the altruistic endeavor)?
The most
obvious objection that occurs to me is that, if one has been frustrated in the
satisfaction of one’s egoistic desires, how could one possibly hope to obtain
satisfaction of one’s altruistic desires? There is untold suffering in the
world, so one would be opening oneself up to a hopeless task. However much good
one could accomplish, ever so much more would remain to be done … like trying
to capture in one’s hands all the water lapping up on the shore.
Furthermore,
if one lacked the ability to satisfy one’s egoistic desires, why suppose one
could help satisfy others’? It might be even harder, in fact.
These
questions give me insight into various strains of ethical philosophy. It may
not be possible to justify altruism as a superior route to personal happiness,
if one presumes that happiness consists in the satisfaction of one’s desires,
for, as I have suggested, satisfying altruistic desires may be even more out of
reach than satisfying purely egoistic ones. (Note that desire-satisfaction is
not itself the same as egoism, since the altruist too is motivated by desire.) However, ethics has
come up with two main ways to address this problem.
One is to
concoct a mechanism that rewards the effort to help others, no matter how
unsuccessful or hopeless this effort, with an egoistic payoff. This can take
various forms. There could be a heavenly afterlife awaiting the genuine altruist
(and perhaps a hell the egoist). However, this presents a psychological paradox,
since the motivation is still supposed to be egoistic (the desire for eternal
happiness); so how can the feelings one generates be supposed genuinely altruistic?
But maybe the feelings don’t matter: The altruism consists in the dedication to
help others exclusively while on this Earth, but with no claim that one
is anything other than self-interested in the longer (eternal!)-term.
But another
problem with this approach is that it is based on a fantasy; so while it may be
effective, it can hardly be called rational (except in the narrow sense of
properly adjusting means to a fictitious end).
Another form
of the reward mechanism is karma, which substitutes a worldly afterlife for a heavenly
one, or a periodically reassessed one for an eternal one. Also, unlike the
other “mechanism,” this truly is a mechanism, not dependent on a God to do the
assessing or implement the reward or punishment. Nevertheless, it is still a
fantasy.
A more empirical
form of the mechanism would be that attempting to help others is all one need
be genuinely motivated to do in order to be happy. In other words, one’s desire
is not that the lot of others be improved but rather that one make every
effort to try to improve it. Altruism, then, would be like any other activity one
enjoys for its own sake, such as going for walks. The only problem here is
whether such a psychological state of affairs is actual or possible for human beings
generally. Camus’s Sisyphus discovered that he could be happy even though the boulder
he was pushing up the mountain kept falling back to the ground. Is the altruistic
form of that situation a viable route to happiness for beings like us?
The other main way ethics has dealt with the desire problem of altruism is to sidestep it entirely. An absolute command or truth is substituted for desire satisfaction. Thus, whether or not one wants to, one ought to (morally must) try to help others. Here the problem is to make the source and even nature of such an imperative intelligible or plausible. To me there is no rational way to do it.
A general
criticism I have of all these ways of addressing the desire problem of altruism
is that they presume getting our mind off what we desire is the route to
happiness. I would like to suggest a third way: Rationalize our desires (aka
desirism). It seems to me that human beings are naturally possessed of both
egoistic and altruistic desires, many of which would survive rational scrutiny;
and so the way to happiness is to work out the most effective ways to balance
and achieve what is desired. And, note, the balancing is not just between egoistic
and altruistic desires, but between desires of each type. For example, don’t
take on any and all campaigns to help those in desperate need, but rather sort
out the places and ways you are likely to be able to make a difference.[1]
Happiness is still far from
guaranteed, since everything in life is subject to chance (Man plans / God
laughs), and, furthermore, our lives were not designed, a fortiori, were
not designed for happiness (God isn’t even laughing, because he doesn’t exist).
But that’s our best shot at it … that is, again, if one seeks a rational
ethics. If one wants happiness more than one wants to be rational, then one
could (rationally!) opt for one of the fantasy routes … though one will always
be liable to nagging doubts[2]
(to the degree that one is incorrigibly rational).
[1] I stop short of suggesting that one attempt to make the most difference, as the effective altruism movement urges, since I think that is a utilitarian will-o’-the-wisp.
[2] But the illusion always has ways to maintain itself in its own terms; for example, if one begins to question the goodness of God in light of some calamity, there is always Satan to pin the blame on.