Altruism Has Made the Society Dumb

Critical Thinking Is About Analyzing Incentives, Which Is Forbidden by Altruism

Picture a crowded fundraiser: people tossing dollars into a bucket for disaster relief, faces beaming with pride. Society celebrates these moments—donations, volunteering, sacrifice—as the highest expression of goodness.

But what if this veneration of selflessness is actually making us worse thinkers?

The myth of altruism—the belief that people act without self-interest—encourages blind trust, stifles motive analysis, and dulls critical thought. That’s how we end up with well-intentioned decisions that are utterly misguided.

Drawing on Psychological Egoism, which argues all human actions serve personal interests, and Evolutionary Biology, which ties behavior to survival, this article challenges the foundations of altruism. Through the lens of ineffective charity donations—where good intentions often backfire—we’ll explore how a society built on faith in altruism drifts further from reason, and why it’s time for an approach grounded in incentives.

The Problems with Altruism

Altruism, as we’re taught, means helping others with no expectation of gain. It’s the donor writing a check, the volunteer serving soup, the parent sacrificing for a child. And it’s framed as inherently virtuous.

But this idea rests on shaky ground.

Psychological Egoism contends that every action, no matter how noble, satisfies some personal motive. The donor might be chasing praise. The volunteer might crave meaning. The parent might want to feel needed or ensure a legacy. These are not cynical calculations—they’re natural drives.

Evolution backs this up. Acts of so-called altruism evolved because they increased survival odds. Kin selection—helping relatives—keeps genes alive. Reciprocal altruism—helping others with the expectation of return—builds trust and alliances. These behaviors look generous on the surface but are ultimately strategic.

Worse, the idea of "good" itself is slippery. It changes based on perspective. A parent forces their child into accounting over music to ensure a stable life—but kills their passion in the process. A terrorist may believe mass violence serves a higher cause. Even Thanos, Marvel’s villain, kills half the universe for what he sees as the greater good.

In the real world, this plays out in charity. People donate to emotionally compelling campaigns—like building wells in villages—but often ignore outcomes. Without maintenance, those wells break. The money goes to waste. Why? Because “good” intent becomes a shield that discourages scrutiny.

Altruism Is Killing Critical Thinking

Critical thinking is built on analyzing incentives—asking what people really want and what their actions actually accomplish. But when we put altruism on a pedestal, we skip that step.

Altruism becomes a shortcut for trust. A charity shows starving children, and we donate without looking at the numbers. Ask where the money really goes—say, why 60% covers overhead—and you risk sounding cold or “anti-good.” We’ve made it socially unacceptable to ask questions about supposedly noble causes.

But we should. Charity is the perfect example. Billions are donated annually, and many organizations spend more on marketing and executive salaries than on impact. Groups like GiveWell show how little of that money actually moves the needle. Yet few donors investigate. They trust the brand. The mission. The emotion.

This isn’t compassion—it’s negligence.

Evolutionary Biology suggests we’re wired to detect motive. Survival demanded it. You shared food only if someone would share back. But the myth of altruism dulls that instinct, replacing reason with unearned trust.

And it’s not just charity. Public policy built on “good” intentions often creates harmful incentives—like welfare systems that make it harder to escape poverty. Corporate social initiatives often do more for PR than for impact. Altruism, when treated as sacred, shuts down the questions we should be asking: what’s the real motive? What’s the real outcome?

We Need a Deterministic Theory to Explain Human Behavior

Altruism is too vague. It depends on subjective definitions of “good” and ignores motive. And that’s a recipe for irrational decisions.

Take post-hurricane aid. Donors flood resources into disaster zones without thinking through logistics. Supplies rot in warehouses. People go without help. The money’s spent, but the mission fails.

We need a different lens.

A deterministic, incentives-based approach focuses on how decisions get made—not on stories about virtue. Effective altruism already applies this logic: fund mosquito nets, not PR-heavy projects. Measure impact. Follow the data. Don’t just feel good—do good.

Charities that embrace this approach prioritize cost-effectiveness and transparency. Donors ask: How many lives does this save per dollar? Not: How sad was the photo?

This framework belongs beyond charity. Governments can evaluate if a policy encourages independence or creates dependency. Companies can ask whether an environmental campaign reduces emissions or just sells more products.

Psychological Egoism helps here. If we accept that every action serves self-interest, then we can analyze those interests clearly. We’re not moralizing—we’re diagnosing. Evolutionary Biology reinforces this: we’re not wired for blind giving. We’re wired for trade-offs and return.

This isn’t about being cold. It’s about being clear.

A society that understands incentives and motives is more capable. More pragmatic. Less prone to waste and failure.

Conclusion

Altruism sounds noble. But when taken at face value, it undermines our ability to think clearly.

Psychological Egoism and Evolutionary Biology both reveal that self-interest drives behavior. The idea of pure, selfless action is more myth than reality. And treating it as sacred stops us from asking the questions that matter.

Charity is just one example. Billions wasted on emotional campaigns that fail. But the same pattern shows up in policy, in business, and in everyday choices. When “good” intentions are shielded from analysis, outcomes suffer.

The fix? Incentives-based reasoning. Effective altruism is already showing what this looks like in practice. It’s not cynical. It’s strategic. And it works.

So next time you feel moved to give, or support a cause, ask the harder questions. What are the incentives? What are the outcomes?

That’s not heartless. That’s smart.

And we need more of it.

---

Follow-up article