Self-interest and Sociability

Richard Ostrofsky
(November, 1996)
If I am not for myself, who will be for me?
If I am for myself only, what am I?
- Rabbi Hillel
There is much discussion today about the need for ethical renewal – in
government, in business, and in society at large. A serious obstacle to such
renewal is the absence of any common understanding on the limits of self-
interested behaviour. So far as law is concerned, anything not specifically
prohibited is acceptable. Our legal system is founded on an assumption that
the interests of society are best served when individuals and firms are left
free to pursue their own interests within the limits of explicit law. In today’s
marketplace of oligopolistic interests, this assumption is blatantly false –
deceitful even – yet there are no alternatives in sight. In particular, law is
proving too blunt an instrument to curb the scramble for wealth at the
expense of other values. First, politicians and legal talent are easily bought.
Second, technology creates new hazards and enables new forms of
exploitation much faster than government can regulate. Finally, serious
money is more easily made by plundering existing wealth, than by creating
new wealth. Until the business culture evolves some guidelines on the limits
of acceptable greed (real soon now!), it’s hard to see what could save the
planet from being plundered back into a new Dark Age.
In this predicament, it’s remarkable how little the discourses of religion
and ethical philosophy are able to contribute – even on the level of pure
thought, let alone practical administration. Both have been dominated by a
kind of wishful thinking, giving rise mostly to councils of perfection. They
have spilled much ink debating whether human beings are essentially good
or essentially evil, and formulating the principles that would govern our
behaviour if we were angels, instead of needy, desperate women and men. I
can scarcely think of a tradition that offers much useful insight on Hillel’s
great question: how is an individual to survive AND flourish spiritually –
save his soul and his ass, while also filling his belly – in the real world of
scarce resources and lawlessly competing interests?
 What limits should we recognize to the pursuit of personal self-interest?
A clue may be found by reflecting on how ethical norms arise
spontaneously in the first place, as rules to improve the playability of games
– including the deadly serious “games” of government and business. It is
not true that games are generated by their rules. Usually, the game comes
first; only gradually are its rules worked out and codified. Time out of mind,
Scotsmen batted stones with their walking sticks. From this pastime,
modern golf evolved and came to be regulated for tournament play.
Rules are formulated and obeyed (when they are) because they make a
game more playable and more rewarding; but a game rewards skillful play
in two ways: first with a direct payoff, and second with the satisfaction of
playing. We participate in games and in relationships generally, not only for
what we can take out of them, but for the satisfactions and the security of
being in. The Olympic athlete does not play only in hopes of a medal, but
also for the joy of competition, and for the satisfactions of serving the sport
and the Olympic tradition itself. Even in business, there are rewards that
don’t show up “on the bottom line”, though your banker and your
shareholders will probably be interested in little else.
In the Bhagavad Gita, Lord Krishna explains to Arjuna that whatever he
does must be for the sake of the action itself, not for its desired result. Hillel
does not go so far. He only reminds us that process and goal are equally
important. For Hillel, it is important to make a living; it is also important to
be an aware, loving human being. Resolution of this dilemma is left as an
exercise for the student, and it is certainly not easy. But to recognize that it
is the core of the human condition – that one cannot opt off either horn of
this dilemma without mortal loss – is the beginning of wisdom.