Handbook of Ethical Theory by George Stuart Fullerton (e reader TXT) 📕

as the misfortune of wife or child does in the case of other men. How far abroad our “interests” are to be found, and just what “interests” we shall regard as intimately and peculiarly our own, depends upon what we are.

The Social Self James describes as the recognition a man gets from his mates: “We are not only gregarious animals, liking to be in the sight of our fellows, but we have an innate propensity to get ourselves noticed, and noticed favorably, by our kind.” Men certainly regard their fame or honor as to be included among their interests, and they may value and seek to obtain the good opinion of a very little clique or of a much wider circle.

By the Spiritual Self is meant our qualities of mind and character—“the most enduring and intimate part of the Self, that which we most verily seem to be.” Our interest in these it is impossible to overlook, and their cultivation and development may become a ruling passion.

James’s illuminating pages make clear that he who speaks of the advantage or interest of the individual may have in mind predominantly any one of these aspects of the Self, or all of them conjointly. The Self as he conceives it may be a narrow one, or it may be a very broad one.

99. EGOISM AND THE BROADER SELF.—It may with some plausibility be maintained that he who lives for himself may not properly be regarded as an egoist and called selfish, if his Self is sufficiently expanded. May it not, theoretically, include as much of the universe as is known to man? And where can a man seek ends of any sort beyond this broad field? On this view, all men are, in a sense, self-seeking, but only those are reprehensibly self-seeking who have narrow and scanty selves.

But common sense and the common usage of speech do not sanction such statements as that a man necessarily lives for himself and that all men are self-seeking. It is justly recognized that some men with broad interests—of a sort—are self-seeking, and that some others with great limitations are not.

He who has property scattered over four continents and watches with absorbing interest all movements upon the political and economic stage may nevertheless be a thorough-going egoist. The breadth of his horizon will not redeem him. One may look far afield and live laborious days in the pursuit of fame, and be egoistic to the back-bone, although one’s interests, in this case, include even the contents of the minds of generations yet unborn. One may forego many pleasures and concentrate all one’s efforts upon the attainment of intellectual eminence or of a virtuous character, and yet seem to have a claim to the name of egoist.

That even the pursuit of virtue may take an egoistic turn has frequently been recognized: “Woe betides that man,” writes Dewey, “who having entered upon a course of reflection which leads to a clearer conception of his own moral capacities and weaknesses, maintains that thought as a distinct mental end, and thereby makes his subsequent acts simply means to improving or perfecting his moral nature.” [Footnote: Ethics, chapter xviii, Sec 3, p. 384.] He characterizes this as one of the worst kinds of selfishness. The task set himself by the egoist who aims at outshining his fellows in an unselfish self-forgetfulness would seem to be a particularly difficult one; yet we have all met persons who appear to be animated by some such desire.

100. Egoism not Unavoidable.—On such cases as the above the common judgment can hardly be in doubt. But there are cases more questionable. Was Hobbes really self-seeking when he gave the sixpence to the old beggar? Is it egoism that leads the young mother to give herself the exquisite pleasure of feeding and caring for her babes? or that induces the patriot to die for his country? To be sure, both the babes and the fatherland may fall within the limits of the self, as the psychologist has broadly defined it.

But they fall within it only in a sense. No doctrine of the mutual inclusion of selves can obliterate the distinction between self and neighbor, and make my neighbor merely a part of myself. The common opinion of mankind is not at fault in basing upon the distinction between selves the further distinction between egoism and altruism. Whatever interests the egoist may have, his ultimate motive to action cannot be the recognition of the desire or will of another. Such can be the motive of the altruist.

Human motives are of many sorts, and just what they are it is not always easy to discover. Cornelia, in exhibiting her “jewels,” may have been puffed up with pride. When Cyrano de Bergerac threw, with a noble gesture, his purse to the players, his “Mais quel geste!” reveals that he was a player himself and was “showing off.” There may be spectacular patriots, who are willing to suffer the extreme penalty for the sake of a place in history. But all maternal affection is not identical with pride; all generous impulses cannot be traced to vanity; all patriotism is not spectacular; nor is the motive to the relief of suffering necessarily the removal of one’s own pain. It is one thing to hire Lazarus not to exhibit himself in his shocking plight on our front porch, and it is a distinctly different thing to be concerned about the needs of Lazarus per se.

It is obvious, then, that it is only by a straining of language that one can say that man necessarily lives for himself, or is unavoidably self-seeking. He who makes such statements overlooks the fact that, even if is true that, in a sense, a man’s self may be regarded as coextensive with all that interests him, it is equally true that different selves are mutually exclusive and that the good of one may serve as the ultimate motive in determining the action of another. The ethnologist is compelled to recognize altruistic impulses in men primitive and in men civilized: “Of the doctrine of self-interest as the primary and only genuine human motive, it is sufficient to say that it bears no relation to the facts of human nature, and implies an incorrect view of the origin of instinct.” [Footnote: HOBHOUSE, Morals in Evolution, p. 16]

101. Varieties of Egoism.—The egoist may set his affections upon pleasure, and become a representative of Egoistic Hedonism, the variety of egoism normally treated as typical and made the subject of criticism in ethical treatises. But there is nothing to prevent him from making his aim, not so much pleasure, as self-preservation; or from taking as his goal wealth, power, reputation, intellectual or moral attainment, or what not. [Footnote: Thus, Hobbes made his end self-preservation; Spinoza takes much the same position; Nietzsche makes that which is aimed at, power.]

So long as the motives which impel him to get, to avoid, to be, or to do, something, do not include, except as means to some ulterior end, the desire or will of his fellow-man, there appears no reason to deny him the title of “Egoist.” Nor need we deny him the title because he may be unconscious of his egoism. There are unconscious egoists who are wholly absorbed in the individual objects which are the end of their strivings. They may be quite unaware that they are ruled by self-interest, when it is clear to the spectator that such is the case. [Footnote: James, Psychology, Vol. I, chapter x, pp. 319-321; a baby is characterized as “the completest egoist.”] But the philosophical egoist must rise to a higher plane of reflection.

There are, thus, egoisms of many sorts, and they may urge men to very different courses of conduct. Some of them may pass over more naturally than others into forms of doctrine which are not egoistic at all. He who aims at a maximum of pleasure for himself is likely to remain an egoist; he whose ambition is to be a patron of science or a philanthropist, may, it is true, remain within the circle of the self, but it is quite possible that his ulterior aim may come to be forgotten and his real interest be transferred to the enlightenment of mankind or to the relief of suffering.

It is especially worthy of remark that in judging a system of doctrine we must take it as a whole, and not confine ourselves to a few utterances of the man who urges it, however unequivocal they may appear when taken in isolation. He whose motive to action is always some idea of his own personal good is an egoist. But a philosopher may hold that human motives are always of this sort, and yet reveal unmistakably, both in his life and in his writings, that he is not really an egoist at all. In which case, we may tax him with more or less inconsistency, but we should not misconceive him.

102. THE ARGUMENTS FOR EGOISM.—So much for the forms of egoism. It remains to enquire what may be urged in favor of the doctrine, and what may be said against it.

(1) It has been urged that egoism is inevitable. This, to be sure, can scarcely be regarded as an argument that a man ought to be an egoist, for there seems little sense in telling a man that he ought to do what he cannot possibly help doing. But the argument may be used to deter us from advocating some other ethical doctrine.

“On the occasion of every act that he exercises,” says Bentham, “every human being is led to pursue that line of conduct which, according to his view of the case, taken by him at the moment, will be in the highest degree contributory to his own greatest happiness.” [Footnote: The Constitutional Code. Introduction, Sec 2.]

From this we might conclude, not only that every man is an egoist, but also that every man is at all times a prudent and calculating egoist— which seems to flatter grossly the drunkard and the excited man laying about him in blind fury. But one may hold that egoism is inevitable without going so far. [Footnote: Psychological Hedonism, the doctrine that “volition is always determined by pleasures or pains actual or prospective,” need not be thus exaggerated. See SIDGWICK’s Methods of Ethics, I, iv, Sec 1.]

(2) The egoistic ideal may be urged upon us on the ground that it addresses itself to man as natural and reasonable.

Thus, the Cyrenaics saw in the fact that we are from our childhood attracted to pleasure, and, when we have attained it, seek no further, a proof that pleasure is the chief good. [Footnote: Diogenes Laertius, II, “Aristippus,” Sec 8.] Paley maintains that, when it has been pointed out that private happiness has been the motive of an act, “no further question can reasonably be asked.” [Footnote: Moral Philosophy, II, Sec 3.] Our citations from Hobbes and Bentham and Green reveal that these writers never think of giving reasons why a man should seek his own good.

And various moralists, who do not make self-interest the one fundamental principle which should rule human conduct, are evidently loath to make of it a principle subordinate to some other. Bishop Butler, who maintains that virtue consists in the pursuit of right and good as such, yet holds that: “When we sit down in a cool hour, we can neither justify to ourselves this nor any other pursuit till we are convinced that it will be for our happiness, or at least not contrary to it.” [Footnote: Sermon XI.] Clarke, who dwells upon the eternal and immutable obligations of morality “incumbent on men from the very nature and reason of things themselves” teaches that it is not reasonable for men to adhere to virtue