The nut’s so tough to crack because there’s an ease of use here which is typically present in most tautological arguments: the basic assumption of the argument also proves itself through assertion. In layman’s terms, the argument works because it has to. Represented as a logical proof, we’d have something like:
X
X
Therefore, X. (QED, bitches.)
Basically, one claims that all human action is based in self-interest and, when questioned, explains away the challenge by once again citing their assertion. They rarely ever provide any foundation for their claim. Thus, it becomes tautological. While logically valid, it remains somewhat unsound.
Most people are compelled to respond to the argument by citing a presumably selfless act, like giving away money to a charity anonymously. Our advocate of self-interest simply cites some psychological satisfaction gained by anonymous donations on behalf of the agent. Using this method of attack, you can never find a human action that could fall outside of self-interestedness.
Instead, go the other route. Rather than looking upwards for a shining example of selfless humanity, cast your gaze downward, towards the worst-of-the-worst human beings. Now that we’re looking at the scum of the earth, refine your search to find the Achilles’ heel for the argument: the evil genius. Cite whatever you’d like: Bond movies, 1950s B-movies, a Captain Planet episode, whatever.
Now, the classic evil genius isn’t interested in money. Or babes. Or world domination. They’re hellbent on the destruction of mankind and, sometimes if they’re really evil, all living things (avoid the villains in the Captain Planet episodes that are focused on killing all pandas or giraffes–we’re looking for universal death here). Usually this revelation is followed by another realization on behalf of our hero and/or their assistant/accomplice–that means (gasp!) that they will be destroyed as well. QED, bitches: we have someone striving for an act that goes directly against their own self-interest by the very virtue of the fact that it would lead to their own demise.
When faced with the evil genius argument in light of their self-affirming tautologies, the advocate of universal self-interest will either:
(a) break down in a crumpled mess under the crushing weight of having their entire worldview shattered
or
(b) argue that one’s own demise could, potentially, be self-interested
In the case of (a), comfort them and provide them with some good reading. Or a beer. In the case of (b), artfully inquire into their life insurance policy and see if you can weasel your way into the position of sole beneficiary via sexual favors or homecooked meals. Devious? Yes. But you’re doing them a favor by proving them right.
March 22nd, 2008
by Jim
Have you considered the possibility that they won’t be destroyed as well (see: bond villains)? Or that they believe destruction to be a good thing (see: suicide bombers)? Or perhaps their self destruction is part of a larger psychological problem (see: my favorite villain, the Joker).
We’ll ignore the first for the moment (as that is an argument over continuity technicalities), and start from the second one.
This is essentially just a matter of brain washing. It plays with the definition of self interest. While you wouldn’t normally think of killing yourself as self interest (and certainly I don’t), if you believe killing yourself grants you something (it doesn’t have to be 71 virgins, it could just be martyr status), then it might be in your self interest.
On the topic of the third, self destruction turns out to be a fairly common trend amongst human beings. It can be an off shoot of depression; it can be the result of repressed guilt (later manifest in delusions); or even the result of an existential crisis: unable to determine ones place in the world, one seeks to destroy the source of their discomfort (a usually self interest mechanism that leads to the opposite results).
Or you could just be an masochist taking it to the extreme (pleasure vs survival, either one can be considered self interest).
And finally, you could just be stupid. This also seems to be a decently common human condition. Not seeing how the consequences of your actions can hurt yourself (al. la Macbeth).
Regardless, this matter certainly warrants further debate (and possibly a thread), and I’m rather sad to see no one else felt the need to comment on it.
March 22nd, 2008
by Jesse
So let’s presume that all of those are plausible (if not somewhat irrational) possibilities.
Drilling deeper, we arrive at another one of those points, philosophically, which Derrida refers to as an aporia. We can’t adequately defend the idea of whether or not self interest is the primary motivator. Your defense belied the presumption that self interest was at the root and then gave plausible scenarios for each of my objections. This isn’t really a proof, per se, but an exploration of a potential explanation. And, of course, my defense of it wasn’t particularly sophisticated and fell into the same basic trap that yours did.
My beef with the issue now, over a year and a half since I’ve written this, is that there’s very little that answering this question solves. It is what Derek Parfit refers to as an empty question; akin to debates over how many grains of sand constitute a pile or what the precise dimensions of a hole are, someone might come up with some very plausible reasons for taking one position on self interest over the other. Their reasons might be very good for doing so, but the reasons do not constitute a proof in and of themselves.
So we are left with a very upfront, if not somewhat blunt question: so what? It makes no difference down here, outside of the ivory tower. Pragmatically, everything remains the same. Looking back, I’m not so sure this is really worth further debate.
March 22nd, 2008
by Jim
I think the major problem we have is definitions. The things we want are, by definition, the things we want. Self interest there for, is pursing the things you want; and how do you know you want them? Well by the commutative property of wanting.
Thus anything you do, is something you want to do, and must have a motive that involves getting (or progressing toward getting) what you want.
But thats not really what you asked. What you asked is, what can we gain from this knowledge. The answer is obvious: TONS
An understanding of what motivates us is the fundamental basis for our economic and and cooperative systems. Its the basis for the entire field of game theory. Knowledge of what people what, and how much they want it let’s us do everything from expose cheaters, to decrease the spread of HIV between heroin users.
This is probably the best evidence for the self-interest model. If we think of people as being only self-interested, and we predict what they will do, our predictions are fairly well in line with what happens.
Hell if you could prove that people take into account other human beings when making decisions, and that they look at group gain as part of their basis function. Well you’d probably win the Nobel prize in Economics… in say, 1994?
March 25th, 2008
by Jesse
I guess what I’m talking about, Jim, is a tad more refined than “pure” self interest. Let us just presume, for a moment, that we know, unequivocally, that we are all motivated by self interest. What kind of substantial knowledge have we acquired here?
It seems like the thing you’re talking about–”knowledge of what people want, and how much they want it”–lies far beyond the scope of what we’re discussing here.
To me, it seems to matter very little whether or not people act selfishly or collectively. They act in a particular way that is informed by their own perceptions and psychology. Whether or not they’re given a choice to act, once again, seems empty. They act in a particular way. This doesn’t change concepts of guilt, or justice, or anything else. Can you be more specific? I have a feeling we might be talking past one another.