The Altruism Question

Toward A Social-psychological Answer

C. Daniel Batson

• Publisher: Psychology Press
• Year: 2014
• ISBN:
  9781317785354
• Edition: 1
• Topic: Psychology
• Subtopic: History & Theory in Psychology
• Index: Psychology

Are our efforts to help others ever driven solely by altruistic motivation, or is our ultimate goal always some form of self- benefit (egoistic motivation)? This volume reports the development of an empirically-testable theory of altruistic motivation and a series of experiments designed to test that theory. It sets the issue of egoism versus altruism in its larger historical and philosophical context, and brings diverse experiments into a single, integrated argument. Readers will find that this book provides a solid base of information from which questions surrounding the existence of altruistic motivation can be further investigated.

CHAPTER 1
The Question Posed by Our Concern for Others: Altruism or Egoism?

Why do we send money to help famine victims halfway around the world? Or to save whales? Why do we stay up all night to comfort a friend who has just suffered a broken relationship? Why do we stop on a busy highway to help a stranded motorist change a flat?

Why would an intelligent, cool, self-assured young woman, after having a child "just for the experience," find herself saying about her small daughter; "I know that I would do anything for her; I would throw myself under an oncoming car to save her if she was in danger of being run over. I never dreamed that I could feel this way about anybody." Why did Lenny Skutnik risk his life diving into the icy waters of the Potomac to save an airline crash victim, and why did "the sixth man," Arland Williams, surrender his life by giving others his place in the rescue helicopter? Why did Mother Teresa reach out to the dying of Calcutta, the lowest of the low? Why did Miep Gies help hide Anne Frank and her family from the Nazis month after month, risking imprisonment, torture, and even death?

Few of us have not asked ourselves why we help others. Often, the answer is easy. We help because we have no choice, because it is expected, or because it is in our own best interest. We may do a friend a favor because we do not want to lose the friendship or because we expect to see the favor reciprocated. But it is not for such easy answers that we ask ourselves why we help; it is to press the limits of these answers. We want to know if our helping is always and exclusively motivated by the prospect of some benefit for ourselves, however subtle. We want to know if anyone ever, in any degree, transcends the bounds of self-benefit and helps out of genuine concern for the welfare of another.

The Altruism Question

The question thus raised has been a central one in moral philosophy for many centuries; it is the question of the existence of altruism. Advocates of universal egoism, who are in the clear majority in Western philosophy and psychology, claim that everything we do, no matter how noble and beneficial to others, is really directed toward the ultimate goal of self-benefit. Advocates of altruism do not deny that the motivation for much of what we do, including much that we do for others, is egoistic. But they claim that there is more. They claim that at least some of us, to some degree, under some circumstances, are capable of a qualitatively different form of motivation, motivation with an ultimate goal of benefiting someone else.

Many forms of self-benefit can be derived from helping. Some are obvious, such as getting material rewards or public praise (or escaping public censure). Yet even when we help in the absence of obvious external rewards, we may still benefit. We can receive self-rewards, congratulating ourselves for being kind and caring, or we can avoid self-censure, escaping shame and guilt. In such cases the pat on the back may come from ourselves rather than from someone else, but it is a pat nonetheless. Alternatively, seeing someone else in distress may cause us distress, and we may act to relieve the other's distress as an instrumental means to reach the ultimate goal of relieving our own distress.

Even heroes and martyrs can benefit from their acts of apparent selflessness. Consider the soldier who saves his comrades by diving on a grenade or the man who dies after relinquishing his place in a rescue craft. These persons may have acted to escape anticipated guilt and shame for letting others die. Or they may have acted to gain rewards, such as the admiration and praise of those left behind or benefits expected in a life to come. Or they may simply have misjudged the consequences of their actions. The possibility that such acts are ultimately motivated by some form of self-benefit may seem cynical, but it is real. It lies at the heart of the altruism question.

Why We Need an Answer to the Altruism Question

Clearly, to raise the question of the existence of altruism opens a Pandora's box of complex issues and conceptual traps. Yet, with some trepidation, I believe it is important that we lift the lid and face these issues. The potential for getting caught in one or more of the traps is great, but the need for an answer to this question is also great. It is one of the most fundamental questions we can ask about human nature. And it is important that we understand human nature.

By human nature I do not mean something mystical, nor do I refer to our innate nature as opposed to that acquired by nurture; I simply mean the propensities, motives, and desires that are within the repertoire of normal adult humans living in at least some societies. If altruistic motivation is part of this repertoire, then both who we are as humans and what we are capable of doing are quite different than if it is not. How we answer the altruism question tells us something fundamental about the role of other people in our lives— and of us in theirs. It tells us about our capacity for involvement with and caring about one another.

From the perspective of universal egoism, looking out for "Number One," being your own best friend, is not only prudent, it is inevitable. Other people, however dear, are simply complex objects in our world—sources of stimulation and reward, of facilitation and inhibition—as we each seek our own ends. But from the perspective of altruism, we have the potential to be more interconnected, more closely tied to one another. From this perspective there are, as Adam Smith (1759/1853) claimed long ago, principles in our nature that interest us in the welfare of others, and not just when their welfare affects ours.

Knowing whether or not we are capable of altruism would, then, help us better know ourselves. And that is not all. If we are capable of altruism, then virtually all of our current ideas about individual psychology, social relations, economics, and politics are, in an important respect, wrong. Virtually all of our current ideas explicitly or implicitly deny the possibility of altruism; they are firmly founded on the assumption of universal egoism. From Aristotle and St. Thomas Aquinas, through Thomas Hobbes and Jeremy Bentham, to Friedrich Nietzsche and Sigmund Freud, the dominant view in Western thought has long been that we are, at heart, exclusively self-interested. And today, when we ask why we care for and help others, the answer provided by all major theories of motivation—Freudian, behavioral, and even humanistic theories—is quite clear: Everything we do, including everything we do to benefit others, is ultimately done for our own benefit.

The assumption of universal egoism is so fundamental and widespread in our culture that it is hard to recognize, like water for a fish. It only becomes apparent if we imagine the possible changes if it were not there. Imagine, for example, the possible changes in child-rearing practices and moral education if—instead of assuming that sensitivity to the needs of others must always be made worth a child's while—we assume that the child is capable of genuine interest in the welfare of at least some others. Similarly, imagine the changes in economic theory and models of social change if we drop the assumption that self-benefit alone defines utility and value. Or imagine the consequences for discussions of morality and ethics.

knowing whether we are or are not capable of altruism will not tell us what is morally right, either in a specific situation or as a general principle. As Scottish philosopher David Hume (1740/1896) pointed out, we cannot reason from an is to an ought, from an understanding of what our human potential is to what we ought to do.

Our potential does, however, set the boundaries for any consideration of what is morally right. We can be held morally accountable only for those actions that are within our repertoire. We are not, for example, held accountable for harm done by "acts of God," which we have no capacity to control. Similarly, if we are capable of seeking only our own benefit, then we can hardly be blamed for doing so. Morality becomes a matter either of brokering various self-interests (Rawls, 1971) or of trying to convince ourselves and others of one of two possibilities: that there is virtue in selfishness (Nietzsche, 1888/1927; Rand, 1964) or that acts that benefit others are actually better for us than acts that benefit only ourselves (Bentham, 1789/1876; Maslow, 1968; Rogers, 1961). Unless arguments advocating the latter possibility can be made convincing, we cannot be expected to care about the welfare of others. If, on the other hand, it turns out that we are capable of altruism, then our moral horizon—and our potential for moral responsibility—broadens considerably.

Flights of fancy like these suggest how important it could be to know the answer to the question of why we help others. If our belief in universal egoism is wrong and we are actually capable of altruism, then possibilities arise for the development of more caring individuals and a more compassionate, humane society. And in a world so full of fear, insensitivity, suffering, and loneliness, such developments are sorely needed.

Yet we cannot decide that altruism exists simply because our world might be a nicer place if it did. Wishes are not horses. If our concern for others is limited to those situations in which such concern serves our own interests, then it is best we know this, lest the rhetoric and dreams of altruism seduce us into counterproductive sentimentality and doomed efforts at social reform. To build a better society, we need to know the truth about our raw materials. We need to know the correct answer to the question of why we help others, whether we like that answer or not. Moreover, we need a solid basis for the answer, so that it will be persuasive, even if it contradicts our present belief. That is the task before us.

Defining Altruism

If we are to make any headway with the altruism question, then we must first clearly specify the difference between altruism and egoism, and do so in a way that does not distort or oversimplify the egoism-altruism debate. We can best do this, I think, by following the lead of Auguste Comte (1798-1857), who is credited with coining the term altruism. Before Comte, the question of why we help others was discussed under a variety of headings—benevolence, charity, compassion, and friendship. Comte's differentiation between altruism and egoism brought the question into sharper focus.

Comte’s Concept of Altruism

Comte (1851/1875) considered altruism and egoism to be two distinct motives within the individual. He did not deny the existence of self-serving motives, even for helping; the impulse to seek self-benefit and self-gratification he called egoism. But Comte believed that some social behavior was an expression of an unselfish desire to "live for others" (p. 556). It was this second type of motivation to benefit others that he called altruism.

One popular rejoinder to Comte's proposal of altruism, made by philosophers of his day, went as follows: Even if it were possible for a person to be motivated to increase another's welfare, such a person would be pleased by attaining this desired goal, so even this apparent altruism would actually be a product of egoism. This argument, based on the general principle of psychological hedonism, has been shown to be flawed by later philosophers, who have pointed out that it involves a confusion between two different forms of hedonism. The strong form of psychological hedonism asserts that attainment of personal pleasure is always the goal of human action; the weak form asserts only that goal attainment always brings pleasure. The weak form is not inconsistent with the possibility that the ultimate goal of some action is to benefit another rather than to benefit oneself, because the pleasure obtained can be a consequence of reaching the goal without being the goal itself. The strong form of psychological hedonism is inconsistent with the possibility of altruism, but to affirm this form of hedonism is simply to assert universal egoism; as such, it is an empirical affirmation that may or may not be true. (See Maclntyre, 1967; Milo, 1973; Nagel, 1970, for further discussion of these philosophical arguments.)

A Modern Recasting

Comte coined the term altruism in juxtaposition to egoism over a century ago, and, understandably, his concept is dated. It is an odd alloy of phrenology, conditioning principles, assumptions about emotional contagion, and Utopian moralizing. Fortunately, I believe that his concept can be recast and expressed more usefully, without changing its basic meaning, by employing a more modern view of motives as goal-directed forces within the individual.

Employing this view of motivation, I would suggest the following definition: Altruism is a motivational state with the ultimate goal of increasing another's welfare. There are three key phrases in this brief definition, and to avoid confusion later we need to be explicit about each:

1. "... a motivational state ...": Motivation is energy (potential or kinetic), a force within the individual (Lewin, 1935). The motivation of interest here is directed toward some goal. Goal-directed motivation has five key features: the person in question perceives some desired change in his or her experienced world; a force of some magnitude exists, drawing the person toward this goal; if a barrier prevents direct access to the goal, alternative routes are sought; the force disappears on attainment of the goal; and consistent with the weak form of psychological hedonism, reaching the goal is likely to be pleasurable for the person.

2. "... with the ultimate goal...": For a goal to be an ultimate goal, it must be an end in itself and not just an intermediate means for reaching some other goal. If a goal is an intermediate means for reaching some other goal, and a barrier arises, then alternative routes to the ultimate goal that bypass the intermediate goal will be sought. And if the ultimate goal is reached without the intermediate goal being reached, then the motivational force will disappear and pleasure will be felt. If, however, a goal is an ultimate goal, it cannot be bypassed in this way.

3. "... of increasing another's welfare": This phrase identifies the specific ultimate goal of altruistic motivation. Three conditions must be satisfied for increasing another's welfare to be considered an ultimate goal: First, the motivated person must perceive a negative discrepancy between another person's current state and potential state on one or more dimensions of well-being. Dimensions of well-being include the absence of physical pain, negative affect, anxiety, stress, and so on, as well as the presence of physical pleasure, positive affect, security, and so on. More simply, we may say that the person experiencing altruistic motivation must perceive the other to be in need. Need is here defined to include the potential for a person not currently in distress to benefit (e.g., Maslow's, 1954, growth needs), as well as the potential for a distressed other to escape suffering (e.g., Maslow's deficiency needs). Second, the person must desire that the other's need be reduced; that is, reduction of the need must be a goal for the person. Third, increasing the other's welfare by reducing the need must be an ultimate goal for the person, not just an instrumental means of reaching some other goal.

Does Altruism Require Self-Sacrifice?

It is important to understand that, as defined here, altruistic motivation does not necessarily involve self-sacrifice. To pursue the ultimate goal of increasing the other's welfare may involve cost to the self, but it also may not. Indeed, it can even involve self-benefit and the motivation still be altruistic, as long as obtaining this self-benefit is not the ultimate goal.

Some psychologists have denned altruism as requiring self-sacrifice (e.g., Campbell, 1975, 1978; Hatfield, Walster, & Piliavin, 1978; Krebs, 1970, 1982; Midlarsky, 1968; Wispé, 1978). Proponents of such a definition usually cite as examples of altruism the acts of heroes and martyrs, for whom the absolute cost of helping is very high, often including loss of life. It is assumed that in such cases the costs of helping must outweigh the rewards, so the helper's goal could not have been self-benefit. By this definition, diving into shark-infested waters to save an attack victim would be labeled altruistic, whereas giving a lost and frightened child a comforting hug would not.

There are at least two problems with including self-sacrifice in the definition of altruism. First, it almost invariably shifts attention from the crucial question of motivation to a focus on consequences. The more the beneficial act costs the helper, the more altruistic it is assumed to be. But what if the hero or martyr had no intention of risking death, and things got out of hand? Is this altruism? And what about that comforting hug? How do we know it was not at least in part altruistically motivated?

Second, a definition based on self-sacrifice overlooks the possibility that some self-benefits for helping increase as the costs increase. Precisely because the costs are very great, the rewards may be very great as well. It may appear tasteless to scrutinize the motives of a person who risks his or her life to shelter refugees from the Holocaust or a person who dies trying to save a drowning child, but if we are serious about trying to unders...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title page
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Preface
• Dedication
• Chapter 1 The Question Posed by Our Concern for Others: Altruism or Egoism?
• Part I The Altruism Question in Western Thought
• Part II Toward an Answer: The Empathy-Altruism Hypothesis
• Part III Testing the Egoistic Alternatives to the Empathy-Altruism Hypothesis
• Part IV Extensions
• References
• Author Index
• Subject Index