In this piece, I intend to explore the concept of altruism and examine the various contexts in which we might engage in altruistic behaviour. I will then discuss some of the challenges inherent in attempting to be altruistic.
I should clarify from the outset that this is not a strictly academic paper, nor is it intended to be philosophically rigorous. Please consider this as a collection of my thoughts arranged into a cohesive document. Additionally, I will not be citing sources, as this piece is not intended for formal publication; its tone and style are deliberately informal. Think of it more as a blog post than any academic work. Perhaps, at a later date, I may revisit this topic and approach it with a more scholarly focus.
I will also not be addressing the various objections to the view I present here, as there are too many to consider in this context. This is not to imply that these objections are bad ones, but rather to keep this discussion concise. I plan to revisit these concerns in a subsequent piece. For the purposes of this piece, I am assuming that altruism is valuable, and I will not be defending this position—if you do not share this assumption, I recommend that you stop reading here. This piece is also theoretical in nature and is not intended to include empirical data or scientific evidence; perhaps a more data-driven exploration will follow. Additionally, I will not delve into the central tenets of what is known as ‘Effective Altruism’. I will not be offering a defence of that position. Instead, my aim here is to introduce the concept of altruism and explore, from a philosophical standpoint, why a more effective approach might be needed. So, what is altruism?
Behaviour is typically regarded as altruistic when it is motivated by an intention to benefit another individual(s) or prevent harm to them for their own sake. This flies in the face of whatever we might call ‘self-interest’. Consider an example:
Imagine some children have accidentally lodged their ball in a tree branch out of their reach. Suppose a passer-by walks past and sees this. Getting the ball down requires some effort and there are no external observers to judge her for inaction. There is also no substantial personal gain to be had from retrieving the ball—aside from perhaps a minor psychological reward, such as the satisfaction of having done something morally commendable.
If she retrieves the ball, her behaviour can be accurately described as altruistic, as it arises from a genuine concern for the children’s wellbeing, performed solely for their benefit rather than for any personal gain[1].
Now, there is a distinction between altruistic behaviour and self-sacrificial behaviour. While altruistic behaviour does not entail any personal loss, self-sacrificial behaviour inherently involves some degree of cost to oneself.
Consider the previous example. Suppose the passer-by retrieves the ball, only to discover that it has been punctured by a branch in the tree. Take a look at these three scenarios in which she offers the children some chocolate to cheer them up:
Suppose she cannot consume the chocolate due to lactose intolerance—giving it away would be an act of altruism, but not self-sacrifice. While she loses nothing by giving away the chocolate, as she cannot eat it anyway, her behaviour remains altruistic because it is motivated by a desire to benefit the children.
Suppose she is not lactose intolerant and has been saving the chocolate to eat for herself. Giving the chocolate away would involve a sacrifice, as she would forgo her own enjoyment of the chocolate in order to benefit the children. In this case, her behaviours would be considered altruistic and self-sacrificial.
Suppose she is not lactose intolerant and has been saving the chocolate for herself, but gives it away primarily out of a desire to adhere to a diet she has been struggling to maintain. It would be more challenging to categorise this action as altruistic. While the behaviour is self-sacrificial in nature, driven by her desire to avoid eating the chocolate for personal reasons, the motive is more self-directed, aiming to serve her own long-term goals, rather than being motivated by concern for the children. Therefore, in this case, her behaviour is not altruistic.
Thus, there is a clear distinction between altruistic behaviour and self-sacrificial behaviour. Altruism is neither a necessary nor sufficient condition for self-sacrifice, and vice versa. Behaviour can be altruistic without being self-sacrificial, and self-sacrifice does not always equate to altruism.
Therefore, determining whether behaviour is altruistic or not is quite often understood as an inquiry into the underlying motivation for the action. Identifying altruistic behaviour can be inherently challenging, however, as a single action may stem from a confluence of multiple motives, each contributing to the decision to act.
Consider the following scenario: Marcus purchases a new motorcycle helmet and shows it to Yann, who knows that the brand is notoriously unsafe. Yann informs Marcus of this fact, not out of concern for his well-being, but because he believes that honesty is a moral obligation. His motivation, in this case, is not altruistic—he acts not to benefit Marcus but to uphold a principle of truthfulness.
However, if Yann then decides to actively assist Marcus in returning the helmet and selecting a safer alternative, his motivation has likely shifted. In this instance, his actions can be better understood as being driven by a genuine desire to improve Marcus’s well-being, making them more likely to be altruistic as well as from principle.
So, altruism specifically refers to actions carried out for the benefit of another individual(s). This is why altruistic acts are often described as charitable, as this term similarly suggests an intention to be involved with promoting the well-being of others, rather than merely acting in a just manner toward them. This leads us to why I am here in the first place.
An altruistic motive does not, by itself, make an action justified or praiseworthy. Yann may genuinely believe that accompanying Marcus to return the helmet improves Marcus’s well-being, and Marcus may also perceive himself as benefiting from Yann’s intervention—yet both could be mistaken (maybe Yann was wrong). In such instances, while Yann’s intentions may be admirable, his actions may still be misguided. This is why we might want to start doing altruism more effectively, that is to ensure well-meaning efforts actually realise as the right actions.
We need to address these two challenges inherent in doing altruism.
Actions can be driven by a variety of motivations, not all of which are altruistic.
Even when an action is motivated by altruism, it may still fail to achieve the intended outcome of benefiting the other individual(s).
I have previously stated that altruistic behaviour is defined by a motivation to benefit another individual(s) or prevent harm to them for their own sake. However, as noted, actions can stem from a variety of motivations, which is why altruistic behaviour is often influenced by personal emotions, social expectations, or cultural norms. On a philosophical level, the kinds of actions we do when we want to be altruistic will be partially shaped by our meta-ethical positions. Because Yann’s action can be motivated by multiple sources, he will have many motivations shaping the kind of action he takes.
As a result, we often observe that many individuals driven by a sense of altruism ultimately engage in actions that are highly ineffective in achieving their intended goals. Theoretically, we can see how certain attempts at altruism will inevitably be flawed.
People’s motivations for action might be shaped by misconceptions about the world, including misunderstandings of which causes are most pressing and how best to address them. As a result, we might see charities employing ineffective strategies or individuals and organisations lacking the necessary knowledge to tackle critical issues in the most impactful way. In such cases, even when there is a genuine desire to act altruistically, competing motivations and misinformation can lead to actions that fail to effectively address the very issues they aim to resolve.
People’s motivations for altruistic action might be shaped by their beliefs about its proper scope. In such cases, disagreements will inevitably arise between those who prioritise helping only their immediate circles and those who advocate for a global approach. Such conflicting perspectives can significantly undermine the effectiveness of altruistic efforts, leading to fragmented and ultimately ineffective attempts at addressing intended issues.
As a result, altruistic behaviour will often prove ineffective due to a lack of consensus on how best to channel our desire to act altruistically. This divergence in collective goals will lead to muddled efforts and the inefficient allocation of resources, which become dispersed too thinly across numerous competing initiatives.
The central question, then, is: how do we resolve these challenges? This will be the focus of my next piece, so stay tuned.
For now, I have sought to outline some philosophical reasons for why altruism might go wrong. I have done this by deconstructing what altruism is and the contexts in which we might find it as a motivation for action. This is not an academically rigorous analysis, but rather a brief opinion piece. Perhaps, in the future, I may reflect on this and find that many of my points were misguided—such is the nature of philosophy. You may feel that I have not provided much in the way of extensive analysis in this piece, and perhaps that’s true. In fact, you haven’t even been introduced to my own positions yet! However, the intent here is to lay the foundation for a series of forthcoming discussions. Defining key terms and establishing a clear framework is crucial at this stage. There is much more to come.
For now, I stand by the views expressed here and look forward to continuing the conversation in the next segment. I hope to meet you there.
[1] For the purpose of this discussion, I will use the term “wellbeing” to represent whatever that term might mean to you.
How Altruism can be Ineffective
In this piece, I intend to explore the concept of altruism and examine the various contexts in which we might engage in altruistic behaviour. I will then discuss some of the challenges inherent in attempting to be altruistic.
I should clarify from the outset that this is not a strictly academic paper, nor is it intended to be philosophically rigorous. Please consider this as a collection of my thoughts arranged into a cohesive document. Additionally, I will not be citing sources, as this piece is not intended for formal publication; its tone and style are deliberately informal. Think of it more as a blog post than any academic work. Perhaps, at a later date, I may revisit this topic and approach it with a more scholarly focus.
I will also not be addressing the various objections to the view I present here, as there are too many to consider in this context. This is not to imply that these objections are bad ones, but rather to keep this discussion concise. I plan to revisit these concerns in a subsequent piece. For the purposes of this piece, I am assuming that altruism is valuable, and I will not be defending this position—if you do not share this assumption, I recommend that you stop reading here. This piece is also theoretical in nature and is not intended to include empirical data or scientific evidence; perhaps a more data-driven exploration will follow. Additionally, I will not delve into the central tenets of what is known as ‘Effective Altruism’. I will not be offering a defence of that position. Instead, my aim here is to introduce the concept of altruism and explore, from a philosophical standpoint, why a more effective approach might be needed. So, what is altruism?
Behaviour is typically regarded as altruistic when it is motivated by an intention to benefit another individual(s) or prevent harm to them for their own sake. This flies in the face of whatever we might call ‘self-interest’. Consider an example:
Imagine some children have accidentally lodged their ball in a tree branch out of their reach. Suppose a passer-by walks past and sees this. Getting the ball down requires some effort and there are no external observers to judge her for inaction. There is also no substantial personal gain to be had from retrieving the ball—aside from perhaps a minor psychological reward, such as the satisfaction of having done something morally commendable.
If she retrieves the ball, her behaviour can be accurately described as altruistic, as it arises from a genuine concern for the children’s wellbeing, performed solely for their benefit rather than for any personal gain[1].
Now, there is a distinction between altruistic behaviour and self-sacrificial behaviour. While altruistic behaviour does not entail any personal loss, self-sacrificial behaviour inherently involves some degree of cost to oneself.
Consider the previous example. Suppose the passer-by retrieves the ball, only to discover that it has been punctured by a branch in the tree. Take a look at these three scenarios in which she offers the children some chocolate to cheer them up:
Suppose she cannot consume the chocolate due to lactose intolerance—giving it away would be an act of altruism, but not self-sacrifice. While she loses nothing by giving away the chocolate, as she cannot eat it anyway, her behaviour remains altruistic because it is motivated by a desire to benefit the children.
Suppose she is not lactose intolerant and has been saving the chocolate to eat for herself. Giving the chocolate away would involve a sacrifice, as she would forgo her own enjoyment of the chocolate in order to benefit the children. In this case, her behaviours would be considered altruistic and self-sacrificial.
Suppose she is not lactose intolerant and has been saving the chocolate for herself, but gives it away primarily out of a desire to adhere to a diet she has been struggling to maintain. It would be more challenging to categorise this action as altruistic. While the behaviour is self-sacrificial in nature, driven by her desire to avoid eating the chocolate for personal reasons, the motive is more self-directed, aiming to serve her own long-term goals, rather than being motivated by concern for the children. Therefore, in this case, her behaviour is not altruistic.
Thus, there is a clear distinction between altruistic behaviour and self-sacrificial behaviour. Altruism is neither a necessary nor sufficient condition for self-sacrifice, and vice versa. Behaviour can be altruistic without being self-sacrificial, and self-sacrifice does not always equate to altruism.
Therefore, determining whether behaviour is altruistic or not is quite often understood as an inquiry into the underlying motivation for the action. Identifying altruistic behaviour can be inherently challenging, however, as a single action may stem from a confluence of multiple motives, each contributing to the decision to act.
Consider the following scenario: Marcus purchases a new motorcycle helmet and shows it to Yann, who knows that the brand is notoriously unsafe. Yann informs Marcus of this fact, not out of concern for his well-being, but because he believes that honesty is a moral obligation. His motivation, in this case, is not altruistic—he acts not to benefit Marcus but to uphold a principle of truthfulness.
However, if Yann then decides to actively assist Marcus in returning the helmet and selecting a safer alternative, his motivation has likely shifted. In this instance, his actions can be better understood as being driven by a genuine desire to improve Marcus’s well-being, making them more likely to be altruistic as well as from principle.
So, altruism specifically refers to actions carried out for the benefit of another individual(s). This is why altruistic acts are often described as charitable, as this term similarly suggests an intention to be involved with promoting the well-being of others, rather than merely acting in a just manner toward them. This leads us to why I am here in the first place.
An altruistic motive does not, by itself, make an action justified or praiseworthy. Yann may genuinely believe that accompanying Marcus to return the helmet improves Marcus’s well-being, and Marcus may also perceive himself as benefiting from Yann’s intervention—yet both could be mistaken (maybe Yann was wrong). In such instances, while Yann’s intentions may be admirable, his actions may still be misguided. This is why we might want to start doing altruism more effectively, that is to ensure well-meaning efforts actually realise as the right actions.
We need to address these two challenges inherent in doing altruism.
Actions can be driven by a variety of motivations, not all of which are altruistic.
Even when an action is motivated by altruism, it may still fail to achieve the intended outcome of benefiting the other individual(s).
I have previously stated that altruistic behaviour is defined by a motivation to benefit another individual(s) or prevent harm to them for their own sake. However, as noted, actions can stem from a variety of motivations, which is why altruistic behaviour is often influenced by personal emotions, social expectations, or cultural norms. On a philosophical level, the kinds of actions we do when we want to be altruistic will be partially shaped by our meta-ethical positions. Because Yann’s action can be motivated by multiple sources, he will have many motivations shaping the kind of action he takes.
As a result, we often observe that many individuals driven by a sense of altruism ultimately engage in actions that are highly ineffective in achieving their intended goals. Theoretically, we can see how certain attempts at altruism will inevitably be flawed.
People’s motivations for action might be shaped by misconceptions about the world, including misunderstandings of which causes are most pressing and how best to address them. As a result, we might see charities employing ineffective strategies or individuals and organisations lacking the necessary knowledge to tackle critical issues in the most impactful way. In such cases, even when there is a genuine desire to act altruistically, competing motivations and misinformation can lead to actions that fail to effectively address the very issues they aim to resolve.
People’s motivations for altruistic action might be shaped by their beliefs about its proper scope. In such cases, disagreements will inevitably arise between those who prioritise helping only their immediate circles and those who advocate for a global approach. Such conflicting perspectives can significantly undermine the effectiveness of altruistic efforts, leading to fragmented and ultimately ineffective attempts at addressing intended issues.
As a result, altruistic behaviour will often prove ineffective due to a lack of consensus on how best to channel our desire to act altruistically. This divergence in collective goals will lead to muddled efforts and the inefficient allocation of resources, which become dispersed too thinly across numerous competing initiatives.
The central question, then, is: how do we resolve these challenges? This will be the focus of my next piece, so stay tuned.
For now, I have sought to outline some philosophical reasons for why altruism might go wrong. I have done this by deconstructing what altruism is and the contexts in which we might find it as a motivation for action. This is not an academically rigorous analysis, but rather a brief opinion piece. Perhaps, in the future, I may reflect on this and find that many of my points were misguided—such is the nature of philosophy. You may feel that I have not provided much in the way of extensive analysis in this piece, and perhaps that’s true. In fact, you haven’t even been introduced to my own positions yet! However, the intent here is to lay the foundation for a series of forthcoming discussions. Defining key terms and establishing a clear framework is crucial at this stage. There is much more to come.
For now, I stand by the views expressed here and look forward to continuing the conversation in the next segment. I hope to meet you there.
[1] For the purpose of this discussion, I will use the term “wellbeing” to represent whatever that term might mean to you.