The Virtue of Selfishness

What can you do for your country, for society, for the world? Do you “think of others” in your decisions? Do you “sacrifice for the greater good”? Are you “doing your part for society”?

The Left calls it compassion. The Right calls it patriotism. Both agree that one must consider the “needs” of the group when choosing one’s actions. One side may preach it louder than the other, but both tell us that the collective stands above the individual.

This refrain of moral correctness echoes through schools, media, and corporate mission statements. Everyone is looking after everyone else. Yet we are more miserable, anxious, and fractured than we ever were.

So what can you do for your country? Start thinking more about yourself.

Society is often arbitrarily grouped by class, political leaning, geographic origin, sexual orientation, or social status. But every group—rich or poor, left or right, native or foreigner, gay or straight, elite or ordinary—consists of individuals.

And who knows best what will improve an individual person’s life? The person in question.

Society is rife with people trying to make decisions on behalf of others: politicians, bureaucrats, busybodies, and so-called “experts.” But why? After all, each individual is the rightful architect of his own life. Each individual knows his own wants, needs, and life circumstances better than anyone else possibly can. Individuals are far better at improving their own conditions than outsiders trying to do it for them.

You are also not obligated to carry the burdens of your neighbors, nor are your neighbors obligated to carry yours. You own your life. No one may rightfully claim your possessions and time as theirs. Neither does anyone have to take on your responsibilities and hardships.

This does not mean that you cannot help others. But first, you must take care of your own problems. If you get caught up in a myriad of other people’s issues, you can’t solve any single one of them, and your own life will worsen. Once your basic needs are covered, helping others is a worthy choice. But it must be a choice, not an obligation forced by the collective.

Civilization consists of individuals. If every individual advances his own well-being, the well-being of society at large improves. So don’t feel ashamed to think more selfishly. Leave vague abstractions like “society” and “the greater good” behind, and work to improve your own personal condition first.

In Greece, citizens had rights. In Rome, citizens had rights. But those citizens, by definition, were land-owning males born in the city-state. The notion that every human being holds intrinsic value—independent of status, possessions, and sex—emerged from Judeo-Christian tradition and reshaped the moral foundation of the West.

Only slowly did the idea of the individual’s inherent worth gain traction. Then came a turning point—gradually, then suddenly. The Renaissance saw philosophers elevating human reason and creativity. Artists began to portray the dignity and inner life of the individual—Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa, and Michelangelo’s David.

The Enlightenment saw thinkers like John Locke argue that the state itself only exists to protect an individual’s rights. Adam Smith demonstrated how self-interest drives growth: “It is not from the benevolence of the butcher, the brewer, or the baker, that we expect our dinner, but from their regard to their own interest.”

Evelyn Beatrice Hall, in her biography of Voltaire, famously summarized the era’s spirit: “I disapprove of what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.”

The 19th century saw the first fruits of these thoughts—marked by the start of an exponential rise in global living standards, unlike anything ever seen before. Individualism was enshrined in constitutions beyond the US. Free markets elevated living conditions to levels unimaginable to the wealthiest elites of earlier ages.

The twentieth century saw global recognition of the individual’s rights with documents like the UN Universal Declaration of Human Rights. However, it also marked the rise of mass politics, as collectivist ideologies—be it fascism, communism, socialism, or technocracy—emerged.

Politicians’ contradictions became impossible to ignore. They claimed to champion the individual while demanding sacrifice for “the greater good.” History showed us with chilling clarity where these collectivist ideals lead: world wars, mass starvation, and gulags.

“Society” is a concept. You are the locus of all thought, choice, action, and experience. You’re the one who suffers when you’re burnt out. You’re the one crushed by staying in a job you hate, just to “do your part.” Society won’t visit you in the hospital. Society won’t stand on your deathbed, mourning.

When individuals, acting on behalf of the abstract collective, suppress their desires, their reason, and their liberty, resentment follows. You won’t find meaning in serving “the greater good.” You can only find meaning in serving real people.

Look at most aid programs: Bloated bureaucracies lose vast sums to inefficiency and corruption. Well-meaning planners build complex systems to help the world’s poorest and end up wasting precious resources.

By contrast, direct cash transfers to the poorest are a powerful tool. GiveWell, a nonprofit recommending the most cost-effective charities to help the world’s poorest, notes: “Cash transfers have the strongest track record we’ve seen for a non-health intervention, and are a priority program of ours.”

When individuals are free to prioritize their own flourishing—morally, emotionally, economically—they improve their lives. And people who flourish don’t start wars. They build families, businesses, and technologies. They create the very prosperity collectivists claim to seek.

Rightly aligned self-interest isn’t a threat to civilization—it is the precondition for harmony.

This is not an argument for elbowing your way through life—far from it. A myopic mindset won’t give you a fulfilling life, rich with purpose and meaningful relationships. If you only think about yourself in the present moment, you fall into high-time-preference thinking, and high-time-preferences almost invariably produce negative consequences.

As a mature human being, you already know this. Thinking about the future is part of being a rational adult. You know that sometimes you have to delay gratification, bite your tongue, or favor long-range plans over immediate satisfaction. Obsessing over short-term happiness leads to long-term misery.

You have the power to act in alignment with your future interests. Sometimes, all it takes is a shift in perspective: What outcome do you actually want?

You can do it. You can practice principled selfishness without becoming a sociopath.

Start prioritizing yourself by saying “no”—without guilt—when a request drains you. Pursue not what earns virtue points, but what truly excites you. Ask yourself, “Do I want this?”—instead of constantly deferring to “we.” Enhance your capabilities by investing in self-improvement.

And let others do the same. Let them live in peace. Don’t moralize or manipulate.

And when it comes time to help people, do so from a position of strength…and choice.

Sacrificing yourself “for society” is not noble. You must take care of yourself first if you want to help others. Otherwise, your efforts will not endure, and you will not make a lasting impact.

You don’t need to fear judgment. Principled self-interest isn’t hedonistic selfishness. Those closest to you will recognize your true self.

It takes courage at first, but by choosing what truly serves your life, you uplift your environment and become more effective in helping others. Live honestly. Act without pretense. Choose what furthers your purpose in life.

When each person becomes the steward of his or her own happiness, a free and prosperous world emerges—not because we planned it, but because we finally got out of the way and let individuals make decisions for themselves.