The Virtue of Selfishness - Book Summary

Dive deep into the virtue of taking care of yourself.

Are "selfishness" and "ethics" completely mismatched terms in your vocabulary? To most people, it would seem so. If one focuses solely on themselves and their interests, they're perceived as being detached from moral principles, aren't they? Well, this narrative presents a contrary perspective. It posits that prioritizing one's own welfare is not only instinctive but is indeed the cornerstone of all moral judgment, providing the basis for life itself.

The ensuing discussion will shake the very foundation of your understanding of contemporary ethics. It dares to challenge accepted beliefs, flipping many moral norms headlong. From the pervasive insistence on altruism to the view that morality is purely subjective, this narrative will provoke, question, and possibly change the way you look at these concepts.

Whether you find yourself nodding in agreement or shaking your head in disbelief, you're bound to be profoundly affected.

In this discussion, you'll uncover:

- The objective roots of morality,

- The paradox of coexisting rights, and

- The misguided notion of perpetual altruism.

Perceiving morality from an objective perspective.

Most people are content to accept that tastes vary. Some might relish spicy cuisine — others may cringe at the thought. Some might have a sweet tooth for decadent desserts — others might prefer something more subtle.

Generally, these discrepancies cause little friction. We respect the diversity in preferences, and we don’t insist that our tastes are universally "correct."

But when we broach serious topics, such as morality, do we treat it with the same level of subjectivity? Is it merely a matter of personal preference?

In other words, are moral beliefs purely dependent on the individual? Or can we find a solid, factual basis for them?

The principal insight here is: Morality can be determined objectively.

The author posits that morality isn’t just about personal preference or taste. Questions of right and wrong stem from concrete aspects of life. How does this work?

Simply put, a human being is an organism. And like all living organisms, humans are presented with two stark choices at all times: life or death. If we reject death, then we naturally choose life. This pivotal decision forms the foundation for a standard against which we can evaluate our actions.

It's worth elaborating on this point. When we commit to survival, we establish a fundamental value — life itself. With that solitary value, we create a natural ethical framework.

So, what does this framework entail? It's fairly straightforward: actions that contribute to our survival are good, and those that compromise our existence are bad.

While this seems simple enough, the challenge lies in discerning which actions are beneficial and which are harmful to our survival. We can't solely rely on instinct to differentiate between harmful and harmless berries or to determine who is a genuine friend and who isn't. These are dilemmas we must navigate on our own.

In essence, to distinguish between actions that sustain life (the good) and those that risk it (the bad), we must employ our cognitive ability — reason.

Yes, we might make misjudgments and end up making erroneous choices. But that doesn't undermine the objective nature of morality. Some choices are inherently beneficial for us — and some are inherently detrimental.

Embrace the value of rational self-interest.

Having established a basic, objective moral principle, we can assert that actions preserving our life are morally sound while those endangering it are morally unsound.

This is a refreshing perspective on ethics that significantly diverges from conventional wisdom. Orthodox thought dictates that the highest form of "moral" action is the one that displays the least selfishness.

In other words, conventional belief holds that goodness is synonymous with selflessness, while selfishness is equated with wrongdoings. Contrarily, the author contends that this viewpoint distorts the reality of morality by disregarding our inherent duty to prioritize our own well-being.

The core insight here is: Selfishness is commendable — provided it's based on rationality.

As per the author's stance, every human being is an "end in himself." This is an age-old notion in moral philosophy, but when contextualized within our discussion of self-regulated morality, it acquires a new meaning.

If people are regarded as "ends in themselves," it implies that they hold intrinsic value. They don't exist merely to serve the goals of others.

However, this assertion conveys more. If others aren't present merely to cater to our happiness, then it's not our role to solely cater to others' happiness either. Each individual bears the responsibility to safeguard their own welfare. Only by embracing this principle can one truly engage in moral living.

This notion might puzzle some. If pursuing one's interests is moral, does that mean anything that brings joy is morally acceptable?

Certainly not. Not every source of pleasure truly serves your interests. Nor is every desire rational — some might merely be hazardous whims. Therefore, to lead a moral life, one must make discerning decisions. Indeed, living morally implies shouldering a considerable responsibility.

Moreover, it necessitates the use of reason. After all, succumbing to irrational desires often results in self-harm, undermining our commitment to life.

However, when we employ reason to pursue our legitimate self-interest, we are essentially striving for the highest moral goodness.

Extend help to others when it aligns with your rational self-interest.

Picture this scenario. You and your spouse share a blissful marriage. Suddenly, your partner is diagnosed with a grave illness. Naturally, you're heartbroken. Fortunately, you have substantial savings that just about cover your spouse's life-saving treatment.

But is using your savings for this the right choice? What if the same amount of money could rescue ten people from a different affliction?

Many would argue that the most moral decision would be the least selfish one. However, based on what we've discussed so far, that's not what true morality entails.

The pivotal insight here is: Extend help to others only when it's rationally self-serving to do so.

In the dilemma of saving your spouse's life or the lives of ten strangers, choosing your spouse is a decision that's both rational and selfish. As we've explored, this combination marks it as a moral choice.

At this point, you might protest. Isn't sacrificing your needs for others commendable? Would it not be moral to prioritize the lives of ten strangers over your spouse?

Not according to the author's perspective. If you saved ten random people, you would be rating a lesser value — the welfare of strangers — as more significant than a higher one — your spouse's well-being. This act inherently qualifies as a sacrifice, exchanging greater for lesser. However, it's also irrational and against your interests, thereby being morally wrong.

After all, you have a rational, selfish interest in your spouse's life. You cherish their companionship and want the best for them. Their well-being matters to you, contributing to your happiness. Simply put, you love them. But this doesn't imply that you feel "selflessly." On the contrary, your love for them is deeply personal and selfish.

And there's nothing wrong with that. Our selfish interests naturally encompass the welfare of those we care about. Looking after the ones we love is neither a sacrifice nor selfless. But it is right.

The same doesn't hold true for strangers, towards whom we don't harbor such selfish affection — nor should we pretend to. Help individuals during crises by all means, but refrain from sacrificing your interests due to a misconceived obligation.

Capitalism is the embodiment of rational self-interest and inherent rights in society.

Thus far, we've dissected the virtue of selfishness at an individual level. But what about when we scale this up? Does collective selfishness have value? Is it even possible?

The author proposes that it does and it is. There exists a particular societal structure that encourages individuals to chase their ambitions while acknowledging others' right to do the same. This societal format is built on the foundations of trade.

The trader emerges as the quintessential representative of a rational, self-serving citizen. She industriously works towards her objectives. She neither purloins anything nor accepts anything unearned. She neither treats others as masters to obey nor as subordinates to command.

The essential insight here is: Capitalism embodies the principles of rational self-interest and inherent rights in society.

According to the author, a society of traders translates into a society that thrives on unregulated capitalism.

But why do capitalism and inherent rights gel so harmoniously? To answer that, we first need to comprehend what "rights" imply.

At its core, a right signifies a legal prerogative. The Founding Fathers of America professed that American citizens have the right to conduct virtually any activity that doesn't encroach upon others' rights. The vision outlined in the Declaration of Independence affirms that citizens are born free and can't be coerced into submission by societal pressure.

Given that citizens can't be compelled to act against their will, society evolves along different lines. Instead of resorting to violent enforcement, social unity is maintained via an alternative method: the emergence of capitalism.

Capitalism employs a system that incentivizes citizens by appealing to their rational economic self-interest. These citizens are urged to cultivate rational, self-serving relationships that benefit them individually and collectively enhance societal growth. We thus have a society of traders flourishing through trade.

As discussed, rational, self-interested actions are moral actions. If capitalism is rooted in rational, self-interested actions, it's logical to conclude that it's a fundamentally moral socio-economic structure.

Capitalism doesn't - and can't - compel anyone to do anything. Rather, citizens appeal to each other's self-interest while acknowledging their inherent political rights. Every individual is viewed as an end in themselves - with interests and rights that should never be disregarded.

The government's role ought to be confined to safeguarding our rights.

Even within a capitalist society, the presence of a government is a necessary evil; sadly, not all individuals can be trusted to respect the rights of their fellow citizens. Some resort to theft. Some commit murder. Some enter agreements with no intention of honoring them.

The role of the government is to regulate society — to ensure nobody oversteps another person's rights and to mete out punishment when they do.

But, an ideal government in a capitalist society does nothing beyond that. It doesn't compel citizens to pay taxes. It doesn't regulate their private behavior. It allows citizens to act as they wish, as long as they ensure the same freedom for others.

The key takeaway here is: The government's role ought to be confined to safeguarding our rights.

Regrettably, in modern times, the American government does much more than just preserve our rights.

In 1960, the Democratic Party campaigned on a manifesto signaling a significant shift in political thought. Earlier, Americans' rights were mere freedoms — such as the fundamental rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. But then, demands started pouring in for a plethora of newly invented rights.

Among other things, democrats declared a "useful and remunerative job," as well as "medical care and the opportunity to achieve and enjoy good health," as basic rights.

Sure, having a job and medical care are agreeable — but categorizing them as rights is perilously misleading. Why? Because these new rights don't simply coexist with the old, established rights. They undermine and substitute them.

Consider this: Offering every citizen free medical care implies taxing certain individuals to finance others. However, in a pure capitalist system, every citizen has the right to allocate her income as she deems fit.

So, what happens to that right when one citizen is obligated to cover the expenses of another? It vanishes. Rights like these simply can't coexist.

If we aspire to live in a society that respects our genuine rights and our rational self-interest, then the powers of government need to be severely curtailed — and remain that way.

Independent thinkers must be ready to combat intellectual bullying.

The promotion of capitalism and the defense of self-interest are often not the popular trends of the day, and rarely attract many supporters. So, if you're one to follow the crowd and adopt popular stances, it's perhaps best to discard everything you've gathered from this discourse.

But what if you're grounded in stronger convictions? What if, after weighing the pros and cons, you decide that self-interest is, indeed, morally right - and capitalism is the solitary economic system compatible with authentic political rights?

In that case, brace yourself for a wave of detractors. If fortune favors you, your ethical and political adversaries will strive to debunk your arguments. More often though, they'll resort to more insidious tactics.

The crucial insight here is: Independent thinkers must be ready to combat intellectual bullying.

One of the easiest ways to evade an argument is to outrightly denounce your opponent as immoral. Even more persuasive is to put forth a proposition to your opponent: either adapt to the "correct" and "accepted" way of thinking, or risk being labeled as heartless, cruel, or glaringly ignorant.

The author refers to this tactic as the "Argument from Intimidation" – although it's hardly an argument as much as a means of destabilizing argumentation itself. It's an endeavor to sidestep analysis and dialogue entirely.

The mode of operation of the Argument from Intimidation closely mirrors the narrative of The Emperor's New Clothes. In this tale, a group of swindlers sells the emperor an imaginary set of clothes, claiming only virtuous people can see their creation. The emperor, unable to see anything, is too terrified to confess. He pretends to don the new "garments" and carries on with his affairs.

When the public witnesses the naked emperor, they too are too apprehensive to confess they can't see his clothes. Instead, they compete to shower the most extravagant praise — until an honest child candidly blurts out that the emperor is utterly naked.

A proponent of the Argument from Intimidation hopes to coerce you into conceding, just like the timorous public in the tale. They suggest that challenging their assertions will expose you as an immoral individual who can't see the magical fabric everyone else claims to see.

If you find yourself in such a situation, react with the sincerity of that single, candid child. Moral certainty — and a dedication to the pursuit of truth over approval — are the only weapons against intimidation of this sort.

Concluding insights

The principal insight in this discourse:

Ethics has an objective and inherent foundation, and it encourages us to prioritize our personal interests. This doesn't imply disregarding our loved ones or mishandling strangers – but it does signify that we should never forsake our own priorities out of an obligation towards others. Also, certain political structures are more aligned with human virtue than others – with a free, capitalist society standing out as the optimal choice.