Altruism – is it real or not?
For Decades, Scientists and Philosophers Have Struggled With This Existential Question
This time of year, charitability rises precipitously. People donate more money, they spend more time volunteering, and we’re reminded even more of those in need. Fortunately, most people step up when called upon. In 2023, Americans gave over $557 billion in philanthropy, and over 63 million people volunteered their time.
It’s around this time that I often think about a debate I follow in psychology, one that has still not been fully settled: is altruism real?
Altruism is the term used to describe selfless behavior, or behavior devoted to the welfare of others. In the history of psychology, there has been a ton of research done on altruism. Studies have found that acts of altruism leave us with a “helper’s high”, a feeling of euphoria that lasts for quite some time. People who engage in altruistic behavior are generally healthier than the average person, both physically and mentally. These people are also happier and kinder, which often leads to continued altruism – a sort of wonderful cycle that continues ongoing. People over 55 that volunteered were 63 percent less likely to die than those who didn’t. “Even after controlling for health status,” one study writes, “volunteering was associated with a significant reduction (44 percent) in mortality.”
Evolutionarily, altruism makes perfect sense. We are socialized pack creatures. We survived and advanced by working closely with those around us, those in our tribe. You do a nice thing for your friends, your family, or even a stranger, and you essentially improve the chances of your genes being passed along to the next generation.
Altruism has been observed in humans as young as 14 months. Infants at this age have shown willingness to help another infant reach an object or even open a cabinet. Even outside of humans, altruism is often the norm. Dolphins have been observed helping others who were caught in nets. Studies have shown that monkeys will refuse food if they know the acceptance of that food will cause a nearby monkey to be given an electric shock. Elephants give physical and emotional support to others in their pack who are too weak to stand.
But here’s where the debate comes in. There is an argument in psychology and among some schools of philosophy that pure altruism does not truly exist. It’s a head-hurting series of arguments, but follow me here. At the base level of charitable actions lies mandated good will. Someone may be performing charity because they are required to, be it through court order, school or familial requirement, or something else. Certainly, that is not pure altruism.
Let’s go a bit deeper. Donating to charity has been found to give a hit of dopamine, the “happy hormone” in your brain that lights up when you eat junk food, drink alcohol, do drugs, gamble, or any other activity. That doesn’t mean that anything causing dopamine is bad – on the contrary. What it means is that volunteering or donating makes us physically feel happy. But there’s a reasonable argument that suggests if you’re doing good deeds because they make you happy, isn’t that selfishness and not altruism?
Being a good person also tends to grant you good karma and a sort of “debt account” with others in the future. While most people don’t partake in charity work to be “owed” anything down the line, there is an argument to be had that the subconscious brain picks up on those benefits, harkening back to the evolutionary drive to help others to help yourself.
How about some extreme examples that are way off the deep end? Mother Teresa was one of the most noble humans that ever lived. She received a Nobel Peace Prize and cared possibly more than anyone else in human history about those less fortunate. She spoke often about how the work she did made her extremely happy – but that’s the same argument some make about why altruism isn’t pure in the first place. You can say the same thing about those who risked their lives to hide Jews in their homes in World War II Europe. Does the pride that they feel in helping others survive (again – that dopamine hit) erase the idea of pure altruism?
Now, let’s be real: these arguments are ridiculous. Mother Teresa is perhaps the most righteous person that has ever lived. People that risked their lives to protect their fellow citizens during the Holocaust are heroes beyond comprehension. Anyone who suggests otherwise is insane. But you can follow the logic, even for a second. These sorts of suggestions are supported by research – studies have shown pleasure parts of the brain lighting up at even the thought of doing good deeds. If we can make ourselves happy just by thinking about doing good, then it’s not outlandish to make an argument that we should be skeptical of the idea of pure altruism.
There’s a theory that says we are motivated to act based on our desires, and then we seek feelings of satisfaction from those actions, and so because feeling satisfied is a personal benefit, all actions have some level of egotism to them. This idea is referred to as “psychological egoism,” and it has been argued about for generations.
Experts have some serious objections to this idea, and understandably so. The entirety of the logic surrounding the arguments against pure altruism are quite circular. If people benefit from their altruism, then altruism is, by definition, done for the benefit of those who perform it. Does your head hurt yet?1
The bigger issue scientifically is that the argument is impossible to disprove – and anyone who has studied the scientific method knows that a scientific theory must be falsifiable. Think about it: if you say that Jonas Salk is purely altruistic because he gave away that polio vaccine for free, someone can argue that he did it for notoriety. If you donate a kidney to a stranger, someone can say the act makes you feel superior to those around you. If, any time someone does a good deed, someone can say, “well, they only did it because it made them feel good,” it has then become physically impossible to counter that point, because there is no evidence you can give to prove it doesn’t make you feel good (and if you’re doing it unhappily, is it altruism at all?) You can see where the argument starts to fall apart pretty quickly.
Here’s where the arguments truly fall apart, in my opinion. Plenty of research has found that good deeds beget more good deeds; charity begets more charity; kindness begets more kindness. It has also shown that, even if initial motives for an act are selfish, over time those motivations become less selfish. Taking our example from above, a court may order someone to begin community service, but over time that person may actually grow an affinity for the charity, perhaps choosing to continue the work after they’ve satisfied their requirements. Or perhaps someone began working with a nonprofit in the hopes of making new friends, but eventually became incredibly passionate about the organization.
At the end of the day, we are social creatures. We get pleasure from interacting positively with others. Our brains may get a chemical boost for altruistic behavior, but that boost happens whether the motivation was selfless or selfish – the brain doesn’t necessarily know the difference.
The bottom line: psychologists shouldn’t care whether altruism is pure or not. The world needs more good people, and donating to charity or volunteering your time is an excellent way to contribute to the greater good. So, on Giving Tuesday, take that extra dopamine hit and brush away those who suggest it’s not pure. Being kind to others is enough to make you worthy of the positive feelings that follow. As Jackie Robinson once said, “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.”
It is actually extremely difficult to measure altruism in a research setting, as much as scientists have tried. Try to think of a simple, everyday action that connotes pure altruism – one in which there is zero reward for doing it, and zero punishment for not doing it. The best one I’ve ever been able to come up with is whether or not you bring the shopping cart back to the cart return. No one will ever criticize you for not doing it, but by doing it you’re helping a food store employee who you will likely never meet.