By Frans B. M. de Waal, Emory University.
Source: Introduction to Psychology book. Authors — R.L. Atkinson, R.S. Atkinson, E.E. Smith, D.J. Boehm, S. Nolen-Hoeksema. Under the general editorship of V.P. Zinchenko. 15th international edition, St. Petersburg, Prime Eurosign, 2007.
â € ‹â €‹ â € ‹â €‹ â € ‹â €‹ â € ‹No matter how selfish a person may be considered, there are undoubtedly some principles in his nature that make him interested in someone else’s success, and someone else’s happiness necessary for him, although he does not derive any benefit from the situation, except the pleasure of seeing it. (Adam Smith (1759))
When Lenny Skatnik dived into the icy Potomac in 1982 to rescue a plane crash victim, or when the Dutch sheltered Jewish families during World War II, they put their lives in danger for complete strangers. Likewise, Binti Jua, a gorilla at Chicago’s Brookfield Zoo, rescued a boy who had passed out and fell into her enclosure, performing actions that no one had taught her.
Examples like this make a lasting impression mainly because they talk about benefits for members of our species. But in studying the evolution of empathy and morality, I have found a wealth of evidence of animal concern for each other and their responsiveness to the misfortune of others, which has convinced me that survival sometimes depends not only on victories in fights, but also on cooperation and goodwill (de Waal, 1996). For example, among chimpanzees, it is common for an onlooker to approach the victim of an attack and gently place a hand on her shoulder.
Despite these caring tendencies, humans and other animals are regularly portrayed by biologists as complete selfish. The reason for this is theoretical: all behavior is seen as developed to satisfy the individual’s own interests. It is logical to assume that genes that could not provide an advantage to their carrier are eliminated in the process of natural selection. But is it correct to call an animal selfish just because its behavior is aimed at obtaining benefits?
The process by which a particular behavior evolved over millions of years is beside the point when one considers why an animal behaves in that way here and now. Animals see only the immediate results of their actions, and even these results are not always clear to them. We may think that a spider spins a web to catch flies, but this is only true on a functional level. There is no evidence that the spider has any idea about the purpose of the web. In other words, the goals of behavior say nothing about the motives underlying it.
Only recently the concept of «egoism» has gone beyond its original meaning and has been applied outside of psychology. Although the term is sometimes seen as synonymous with self-interest, selfishness implies the intention to serve our own needs, that is, the knowledge of what we are going to get as a result of a particular behavior. The vine may serve its own interests by entwining the tree, but since plants have no intentions and no knowledge, they cannot be selfish, unless the metaphorical sense of the word is meant.
Charles Darwin never confused adaptation with individual goals and recognized the existence of altruistic motives. He was inspired in this by Adam Smith, the ethicist and father of economics. There has been so much controversy about the difference between actions for gain and actions driven by selfish motives that Smith, known for his emphasis on selfishness as the guiding principle of economics, also wrote about the universal human capacity for sympathy.
The origins of this ability are not a mystery. All species of animals among which cooperation is developed show devotion to the group and tendencies to mutual assistance. This is the result of social life, close relationships in which animals help relatives and fellows who are able to repay the favor. Therefore, the desire to help others has never been meaningless from the point of view of survival. But this desire is no longer associated with immediate, evolutionary-sounding results, which has made it possible for it to manifest itself even when rewards are unlikely, such as when strangers receive help.
Calling any behavior selfish is like describing all life on earth as converted solar energy. Both statements have some common value, but hardly help explain the diversity we see around us. For some animals only ruthless competition makes it possible to survive, for others it is only mutual assistance. An approach that ignores these conflicting relationships may be useful to the evolutionary biologist, but it has no place in psychology.