ethical egoism, in philosophy, an ethical theory according to which moral decision making should be guided entirely by self-interest. Ethical egoism is often contrasted with psychological egoism, the empirical claim that advancing one’s self-interest is the underlying motive of all human action.
One great advantage of ethical egoism over other normative theories is that it avoids any possible conflict between self-interest and morality. Another is that it makes moral behaviour by definition rational (on the plausible assumption that it is rational to pursue one’s own interests).
Two forms of ethical egoism may be distinguished. The position of the individual ethical egoist may be expressed as: “All people should do what is in my interests.” This is indeed ethical egoism, but it is incapable of being universalized (because it makes essential reference to a particular individual). Thus, it is arguably not an ethical principle at all. Nor, from a practical perspective, is the individual ethical egoist likely to be able to persuade others to follow a course of action that is so obviously designed to benefit only the person who is advocating it.
Universal ethical egoism is expressed in this principle: “All people should do what is in their own interests.” Unlike the individual principle, this principle is universalizable. Moreover, many self-interested people may be disposed to accept it, because it appears to justify acting on desires that conventional morality might prevent one from satisfying. Universal ethical egoism is occasionally seized upon by popular writers, including amateur historians, sociologists, and philosophers, who proclaim that it is the obvious answer to all of society’s ills; their views are usually accepted by a large segment of the general public. The American writer Ayn Rand is perhaps the best 20th-century example of this type of author. Her version of ethical egoism, as expounded in the novel Atlas Shrugged (1957) and in The Virtue of Selfishness (1965), a collection of essays, was a rather confusing mixture of appeals to self-interest and suggestions of the great benefits to society that would result from unfettered self-interested behaviour. Underlying this account was the tacit assumption that genuine self-interest cannot be served by lying, stealing, cheating, or other similarly antisocial conduct.
As this example illustrates, what starts out as a defense of universal ethical egoism very often turns into an indirect defense of consequentialism: the claim is that everyone will be better off if each person does what is in his or her own interests. Ethical egoists are virtually compelled to make this claim, because otherwise there is a paradox in the fact that they advocate ethical egoism at all. Such advocacy would be contrary to the very principle of ethical egoism, unless ethical egoists stand to benefit from others’ becoming ethical egoists. If their interests are such that they would be threatened by others’ pursuing their own interests, then they would do better to advocate altruism and to keep their belief in ethical egoism a secret.
Unfortunately for ethical egoism, the claim that everyone will be better off if each person does what is in his or her own interests is incorrect. This is shown by thought experiments known as “prisoners’ dilemmas,” which played an increasingly important role in discussions of ethical theory in the late 20th century (see also game theory). The basic prisoners’ dilemma is an imaginary situation in which two prisoners are accused of a crime. If one confesses and the other does not, the prisoner who confesses will be released immediately and the prisoner who does not will be jailed for 20 years. If neither confesses, each will be held for a few months and then released. And if both confess, each will be jailed for 15 years. It is further stipulated that the prisoners cannot communicate with each other. If each of them decides what to do purely on the basis of self-interest, each will realize that it is better for him or her to confess than not to confess, no matter what the other prisoner does. Paradoxically, when each prisoner acts selfishly—i.e., as an ethical egoist—the result is that both are worse off than they would have been if each had acted cooperatively.
Although the example might seem bizarre, analogous situations occur quite frequently on a larger scale. Consider the dilemma of the commuter. Suppose that each commuter finds a private car a little more convenient than a bus, but when each commuter drives a car, the traffic becomes extremely congested. So everyone is better off in the situation where everyone takes the bus than in the situation where everyone drives a car. Because private cars are somewhat more convenient than buses, however, and because the overall volume of traffic is not appreciably affected by one more car on the road, it is in the interests of each commuter to continue driving. At least on the collective level, therefore, egoism is self-defeating—a conclusion well brought out by the English philosopher Derek Parfit in Reasons and Persons (1984).
The fact that ethical egoism is collectively self-defeating does not mean that it is wrong. An ethical egoist might still maintain that it is right for each person to pursue his or her own interests, even if this would bring about worse consequences for everyone. Although that position would not be self-contradictory, it would be “self-effacing,” since it would require ethical egoists to avoid promoting ethical egoism in public and to keep their true ethical beliefs a secret.