4. On Egoism and Social Contract Theory

The tension between self-interest and the collective good is one of the foundational problems of ethics. At one extreme lies ethical egoism, a philosophy suggesting that the ultimate moral good is the pursuit of one’s own self-interest. At the other lies the social contract, the implicit agreement to surrender certain individual freedoms for the stability and security of a shared society. Exploring the progression from the chaos of pure self-interest to the complex frameworks of justice reveals why we form societies and what we owe to one another. While Thomas Hobbes provides a pragmatic blueprint for escaping chaos and John Rawls offers an aspirational model for achieving justice, a truly robust ethical stance may require looking beyond systems entirely.

John Rawls argues that self-interest obscures our vision of justice, a view directly opposing ethical egoism. In my view, he is correct. A society of pure ethical egoists, where every individual’s primary moral duty is to themselves, is fundamentally unstable. It is the philosophical equivalent of a toddler’s worldview, a state of being that only functions if no one else is practicing it. When one’s self-interest inevitably conflicts with another’s, the framework offers no resolution beyond a power struggle. This scenario is a direct path to what Thomas Hobbes termed the “state of nature,” a war of “all against all” where life is defined by constant fear and the absence of progress (Matthews & Hendricks, 2019). Egoism is not a solution; it is the very problem that ethical systems are designed to solve.

Hobbes’s social contract is the logical, if cynical, solution to this problem. He argued that to achieve collective security, people must willingly cede some of their freedoms to a governing power. This is not an abstract concept; it is a bargain we strike daily. When I accept traffic laws, I give up the freedom to drive as fast as I want in exchange for a drastic reduction in the likelihood of being killed in a collision. In my professional life handling healthcare data, I surrender the freedom to analyze patient information unrestricted, adhering to HIPAA regulations to ensure the collective security of personal privacy. As a father, I restrict my daughter’s freedom by not allowing her to answer the door to strangers, a trade-off of her autonomy for her physical safety. Hobbes’s Leviathan is a deeply pragmatic construct. It is the foundational layer of societal infrastructure built not on ideals of perfect justice, but on the desperate, rational need to escape a life that is “solitary, poor, nasty, brutish, and short.”

If Hobbes builds the foundation to prevent society’s collapse, John Rawls designs the just and equitable home built upon it. His “Veil of Ignorance” is a revolutionary thought experiment designed to determine the principles of a fair society (Matthews & Hendricks, 2019). By imagining ourselves in an “original position” where we are ignorant of our own class, health, talent, or identity, we are forced to design a system that is fair to all, because we could end up being anyone within it.

From behind this veil, our current societal structures for healthcare and education are exposed as indefensibly unjust. The American healthcare system, which ties access to care to employment and wealth, is a gamble no rational person would take from the original position. Not knowing if I would be born with a chronic illness or into poverty, I would insist on a system where healthcare is a fundamental right. Drawing from global models, the National Health Insurance (NHI) model, used in countries like Canada and Taiwan, seems most just. In this system, the government acts as a single-payer funded through taxes, ensuring universal coverage while using its bargaining power to control costs (Reid, 2010). It removes the existential terror of financial ruin due to illness, providing a stable foundation for a good life.

Similarly, the American public education system, funded primarily by local property taxes, perpetuates generational inequality. This model ensures that wealthy areas have better-funded schools, creating a feedback loop of advantage. From behind the veil, this is an unacceptable risk. A just system would be one like Finland’s, where funding is primarily centralized through the national government. This allows for the strategic allocation of resources to support disadvantaged students, aiming for true equality of opportunity for every child, regardless of the zip code they are born into (Sahlberg, 2015). Both of these policies speak directly to my previously developed argument that virtue can be a luxury good. By guaranteeing access to healthcare and quality education, we provide the material and intellectual foundation upon which the disadvantaged can begin to pursue flourishing, rather than mere survival.

However, as a data analyst trained to spot hidden biases, I remain skeptical that the Veil of Ignorance is a perfect algorithm for justice. The thought experiment presumes a rational, risk-averse actor and may not produce principles that are universally applicable across diverse cultures with different values. It is a powerful tool, but we must question whether any single thought experiment can truly determine what is just for all societies.

Ultimately, my own Absurdist worldview leads me to a different conclusion. Both the rational egoist, who seeks to master the world through self-interest, and the Rawlsian system-builder, who seeks to tame it through abstract principles of justice, are attempting to impose a rational order on an inherently irrational universe. I land outside this conflict by rejecting its premise. The central ethical choice is not between self-interest and systemic justice, but between an authentic and an inauthentic life. A society of rational egoists could, from behind the veil, logically agree to the Difference Principle to protect their potential future selves. Yet, this is an act of calculated self-preservation, not justice.

For the Absurdist, meaning is found not in a perfect system, but in the conscious struggle against a meaningless cosmos. A perfectly fair system, while a noble goal, risks sanitizing the very friction that forges meaning. Justice is not a principle to be applied, but a conscious, moment-to-moment choice born from recognizing our shared struggle. I would help the person who is worst off not because the Difference Principle compels me, but because in the face of an indifferent universe, the only meaningful act of rebellion is compassion. It is Sisyphus, pausing his own struggle with his boulder to help another with theirs, not due to a rule, but from a profound sense of shared, absurd fate. In that single act of solidarity, true justice is found.

References

Matthews, G., & Hendricks, C. (2019). Introduction to philosophy: Ethics. Rebus Community. Retrieved from https://open.umn.edu/opentextbooks/textbooks/introduction-to-philosophy-ethics

Reid, T. R. (2010). The healing of America: A global quest for better, cheaper, and fairer health care. Penguin Books.

Sahlberg, P. (2015). Finnish lessons 2.0: What can the world learn from educational change in Finland? Teachers College Press.