Every semester, I begin by asking my students to write an essay choosing one of the following statements:
How do you live your life? Every man for himself or Every man for the good of his community.
These statements represent [imperfectly] the two competing Codes of Ethics. There are only two, because only two are possible. They are opposites, like black and white. There is no “moral” gray zone. One is good. The other is evil. There can be no compromise between good and evil. Compromised truth is a lie.
Every action, moral or immoral, involves a choice. A moral code provides the standard upon which that choice should be made. I have already identified the standard I believe to be rational and appropriate. When I did so [see “My Top Shelf”], I was discussing the code of ethics defined for me by Ayn Rand:
Egoism: According to egoism, the moral purpose of man’s life is to live it, to set and achieve his goals, to pursue his own happiness. This does not mean that he doesn’t care about other people, but rather that his first responsibility is to himself. An egoist neither makes sacrifices nor demands them of others. He lives by trade. Self-reliance is defined as the “good.”
Not the one I was raised to believe:
Altruism: “The basic principle of altruism is that man has no right to exist for his own sake, that service to others is the only justification of his existence, that self-sacrifice is his highest moral duty, virtue, and value.” [AR] The most basic absolute of altruism is self-sacrifice. The self is the standard of evil; the selfless is the standard of good. If you benefit, your action is evil: if others benefit your action is good.
Like most Americans, I was raised by Christian parents. They baptized me a Catholic. I was taught to revere Jesus, learn his lessons, try to live them. For thirty years I was tortured trying to reconcile what I thought was right with what I was taught was right.
Christians like to focus on “love,” the panacea, the cure-all feeling at the heart of Jesus’ message. Love is the reason for the season, love your neighbor, love everybody…even your enemies. Christians believe unconditional love can cause good things to happen, make a better world. And how did the Christian Hero show his love? He made the ultimate sacrifice.
The Sisters of Mercy and Marist Brothers, who were my teachers K-12, probably focused more on Jesus’ sacrifice, how he gave up his life to save our souls. But, if I knew nothing else after my thirteen years in parochial schools, I knew my Jesus. Like all thoughtful, Christian youth, I wanted to be like Jesus.
Of course, I was unable to be selfless, unable to love people I despised, unable to turn the other cheek, unable to be meek, unable to be humble. I knew very early on that I could not be like Jesus. The result? Immeasurable GUILT. My solution? [The only one my parents and teachers ever taught me]: PENANCE. For twenty years I held self-flagellation seminars trying to exercise the demons that made it impossible for me to be like Jesus. I was doing to myself what Jesus allowed others to do to him. I was torturing myself with the knowledge that I deserved to suffer, that sacrifice is necessary if one is to become moral.
It did finally occur to me that in order to achieve moral perfection, like Jesus, I’d have to make the ultimate sacrifice, too. Nothing short of giving up my life would be sacrifice enough if I want to be truly like Jesus. This presented a huge problem for me. See, in spite of all of my misdeeds, failures, and miserable penance, I truly loved my life. I liked me. I had no wish to die.
I began to realize the problem was not me, but rather, the example set by my hero.
I was 39-years-old when I asked—and answered—a question I never thought possible to even ask. Was Jesus right? Is altruism, the creed of self-sacrifice, a proper moral code?
How can altruism be a proper moral code for man if in order to achieve moral perfection, I have to be dead? What good is a code of ethics to a corpse?
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