Altruism

We commonly do not remember that it is, after all, always the first person that is speaking.²

But I felt: you are an I,you are an Elizabeth,you are one of them³

Were the ancient Greeks and Romans altruistic? Is anyone? Common sense suggests that people care about others just as they do about themselves; the problem is, it also suggests the reverse. As Elliot Sober and David Sloan Wilson put it in their recent book, Unto Others: The Evolution and Psychology of Unselfish Behavior (1998: 287), if common sense is what people commonly believe, then it would seem that "egoism has made large inroads" into it, and "is now a worldview endorsed by large numbers of people."⁴ The atomized condition of modern life may in part explain this development, but responsibility must lie as well with the many authorities in philosophy, psychology, biology, and economics who hold as a matter of principle that all motives are selfish. Most of the relevant arguments are rehearsed or at least adverted to by Sober and Wilson, who seek to resolve the issue in favor of altruism by invoking considerations relating to evolution and natural selection. Their effort is not altogether successful, in my view; nor is it entirely necessary. But neither, as we shall see, is it wholly without precedent in classical antiquity.

It is important to recognize that altruism is not, in the first instance, a question about behavior but rather about the interpretation of behavior. The disagreement between those who insist that all actions are motivated by egoism and those who affirm that at least some actions are inspired by regard for others does not reduce to a quarrel over what people do, but why they do it. Nor can one decide the issue simply by asking people to state their reasons, for what they say is likely to reflect what they believe about motivation, and this, as we have suggested, is likely to be a product of theory, however derivative or informal, as much as of observation or introspection. Anyone who defends egoism knows that people may say they have acted unselfishly, or for another's benefit alone. But was this their real or, more strictly, their ultimate motive? Those who deny the possibility of altruism maintain that, however generously we may seem to behave, we always have an ulterior purpose, which is precisely to advance our own pleasure, welfare, or interest. Altruism allows that one may act, and act often, on selfish or hedonistic impulses; it merely claims that sometimes, at least, we do so strictly for the sake of others. Egoism is thus the more rigorous of the two doctrines, altruism the more pluralistic in its account of motives.⁵

It is perfectly possible, of course, to inquire into how Greeks and Romans actually behaved. There are cultures in which generosity and sympathy are less prized or more, and comparative data on treatment of prisoners of war or the aged, for example, may reveal significant differences between one group and another. Although Greek and Roman violence toward enemies could extend as far as the extermination or enslavement of entire populations, Livy tells us that it was a point of pride with the Romans that they were particularly given to sentiments of pity toward the conquered. Hendrik Bolkestein devoted a large volume to investigating the ideal of charity among the ancient Egyptians, Hebrews, Greeks and Romans, and concluded that the democratic ethos of the classical city-state militated against concern for the poor as such.⁶ To address the question of altruism, however, we must direct our attention to how the Greeks and Romans described their motives and those of others, whether systematically, like the philosophers, or in the chance fashion of historians, orators, and poets. And what people believe is not without effect on how they act. Political parties in the United States today, for example, are engaged in a debate over the nature of "compassion," and the stand one takes on this question may influence how one behaves or votes in regard to social welfare. A cartoon in a recent issue of...