‘Narcissism and Altruism’
CAERS SUBSTACK ARTICLE #40
When we begin our lives, it is doubtful that we can distinguish ourselves from the environment around us; likely everything simply seems to be ‘us’. As infants, when we are hungry, we cry, and nutrition seems to magically come our way. We are just as blissfully unaware of the time of day (or night!) as we are that the breastmilk we are suckling is being supplied by another separate human being, our mother. It is the ultimate narcissism: there are no boundaries between us and others, so we assume that what we want is all that is wanted. There are no other wants because there are no ‘others’ whose wants we need to consider.
Eventually we come to recognize that there are other people in the world who are distinct from us. But a two-year-old often assumes that what they want is what everyone wants, and it takes time before they realize that others have feelings, thoughts, needs and desires that may differ from their own. As we mature, we gradually discover that life is a process of give and take. It can be painful to learn that we don’t always get what we want, but the more we cooperate with others, perhaps through negotiation, the better our results.
However, that is not always easy to do. As we grow out of childhood and our innocent narcissism, we often find it difficult to incorporate the known needs and desires of others into our plans. Often, we are willing to do so only if we see considerable benefit to ourselves first; in other words, we can be selfish.
As we develop our ability for abstract thought, and our mirror neurons become better at reading other people, the more capable we become of truly understanding others. We can then evolve from people who adopt certain behaviours in order to get what we want, to people with a sincere desire to care for the needs of others almost as much as we care for our own. Along a spectrum, each act in which we engage can become more and more motivated by the wants and needs of other people. We increase both our capacity and willingness to make greater and greater sacrifices for the good of others. We describe this as altruistic, and it is the prerequisite for learning to love another.
Parenthood is perhaps the embodiment of this: ask any parent about the sacrifices they make for their children, and the terror and exhaustion in doing so. It might be said that the goal for all parents is to teach their children to be willing to make such sacrifices as well; to grow along the spectrum from narcissism to altruism even if they never have children of their own. It may be true that pure altruism cannot exist because even the most altruistic acts still involve individuals making choices with which they feel most satisfied. However, the greater the personal sacrifice the greater the altruism, even if we cannot let go of our needs and wants entirely.
The law sets a minimum standard of behaviour below which there is the potential for negative consequences; it defines unacceptable levels of narcissism and selfishness. Equally, much of ethics revolves around raising the bar of conduct not just out of fear of punishment, but out of a genuine sense that we are called to do so as sentient beings with a conscience. Although ethics may not demand altruistic behaviour, we nevertheless often respect it and encourage people to strive for it.
In infancy a baby cannot distinguish itself from its mother; it is an extreme type of intimacy. Altruism is a somewhat similar intimacy in that one does not separate one’s needs from those of others. The crucial difference is that altruism is an intimacy that is chosen from a place of maturity and selflessness, not one borne of reflex fear or self-serving ignorance. Unlike the intimacy with which we start our lives, altruism is a sincere desire for a oneness that is self- sacrificing and knows it.
Authorities have appealed to the public to follow the mandated measures to the letter, without question. It has been argued that those who refused vaccination during COVID, for example, were narcissistic or selfish, caring more about themselves than others. But could one argue that they rejected the idea of an experimental vaccine not just for themselves in a selfish fashion, but more altruistically because they thought it could very well be dangerous for a significant percentage of the population? Perhaps they were legitimately concerned that the choice to vaccinate was frequently done out of ignorance and fear, not social altruism, and that ultimately far more harm than benefit would occur unpredictably for many people through the use of the vaccine. Still others were concerned that many of the measures that were mandated, often without adequate scientific proof of their efficacy and safety, would also do more harm than good. Some were willing to sacrifice much to protect not just themselves but all of us: sacrifice their reputation, friendships, jobs and businesses, and even their freedom to do so.
One of the highest forms of intimacy is altruism, whereby we consider the needs and desires of others as though they are our own. It involves a deep understanding of the other; it is a place of love, not fear. Which of our behaviours during the pandemic arose from a sincere altruism, and which arose more from a fearful or even self-serving narcissism? That is for each of us to decide for ourselves; only we can know our own true intentions and motivations. And each of us has the freedom to be as altruistic as we choose.
J. Barry Engelhardt MD (retired) MHSc (bioethics)
CAERS Health Intake Facilitator