Why Selfishness is the Foundation for Creative Generosity

We’ve been taught that selfishness is a bad thing, but without it creativity couldn’t survive.

How many of us have had to fight for time, space, or necessary resources to make creative work possible? If you’ve had a lot of female social conditioning you’ve had to fight extra hard, but all of us are brainwashed to believe selfishness is a bad trait, one to be avoided rather than embraced.

That’s in part because of how it’s been defined as: a tendency to act excessively or solely in a manner that benefits oneself, even if others are disadvantaged, or as: lacking consideration for others; concerned chiefly with one’s own personal profit or pleasure. Other words for selfishness include: self-interested, self-seeking, egotistical, illiberal, parsimonious, stingy.

Where did all this negativity come from? “Self” simply refers to one’s own person. The “ish” suffix pairs with some nouns to form adjectives that indicate “relating to” or “approximately.” To relate to, or even be concerned with, the self is quite healthy, in my opinion. And if a society wishes its members to become personally responsible, then everyone will have to reckon with this negative spin on selfishness.

Which is not to be confused with “self care,” a term that makes what would otherwise be called selfish somehow okay. Self care appears to be neutral as it’s assumed to mean “looking after yourself in ways that do not involve others.” It seems to mean “caring for the self” rather than “caring only for the self.”

But I’m suspicious of this term. What if self care is a pseudo solution to a deeper human drive? What if a bubble bath, pedicure, massage, or girls/guys weekend away isn’t going to satiate a deep hunger to know who you are and make something in your lifetime?

We humans are born with strong positive urges toward freedom and creativity that we learn to negotiate away in small or large increments in order find a place in the social hierarchy.

We go along to get along, and there’s some sense, as well as integrity, to this. We can’t only think of ourselves, and we must do our best not to gather benefits to ourselves that lead to suffering for others. And especially now, we have to find ways to get along on an increasingly small and connected planet.

In society, to label another as selfish is a judgement designed to control, deter, or in some way modify behaviour. As social creatures, we do our best to avoid being labeled with negative traits, but if we followed every dictate society seems to want to throw at us we’d have no sense of individual self left, and without an individual self it’s extremely difficult to create.

Artists, by nature, chafe at rules and structures that limit freedom and creativity. An artist’s exercising of freedom to pull away and semi-isolate to develop and express creatively appears selfish but is deeply rooted in a desire to try to make something that could have a positive impact on the people they care about and the world at large. This desire is rooted in generosity. To walk a creative path is to encounter all manner of self sacrifice and paradox.

I’ve personally been judged for being selfish because I’ve appeared to put my own needs above those of others’ to pursue my creativity or to evolve personally. It’s painful to be judged that way, but it’s more painful to go against the grain of my own nature.

The drive to create is not something to be haggled away without side effects, some of which come later in life. A pull to know yourself well enough to understand what you want to create from that place is, to me, part of the true business of being human.

And if you need a few hours, days, or months to yourself to attend to these inner stirrings, how much real damage does that do to others compared to what not doing it might do to you? These questions can’t be answered flippantly, can’t be addressed without deep thought.

I apply two lenses when trying to find these answers in my own life. One comes from a basic tenant of the Hippocratic Oath: first do no harm. Primum non nocere. The other is a quote from the Dalai Lama: "Kindness is my religion." If you can be self-ish without doing harm, without sacrificing kindness, trust yourself to do this.

Others around you may not see things the same way at first. They may claim to be hurt or call you unkind, because unearthing our true duties to one another is deep work. But you probably don’t need to make dinner every night, or tend to partners’ or children’s every whim, or fulfill every job’s next outcome goal. You can’t drop everything, but you can let go of some things.

Accepting that you'll be judged as selfish is one of the first hurdles new writers must overcome. Writing requires a degree of solitude, usually some quiet, and a certain amount of uninterrupted time. Initially, some of the time is spent overcoming the internalized voices that say you should be doing something else, ideally something for others. These early inner battles throw many a good, fledgling writer off course.

Besides, once alone in your room staring at a blank page you’ll have other challenges to deal with, so why not stop letting the hang ups, and confusions, about selfishness be one of them? You’re allowed to spend time with yourself, follow your own interests, and pursue long-held dreams. It’s not selfish, it’s self-actualizing.

Not everyone has the inner urge, or outer opportunities, to address creative or self-actualizing purposes, but if you do, then ask yourself: Is it doing me more harm than good to not fulfill these drives? Could it enlarge my life to reframe my definition of selfishness and use it in the service of fulfilling my creative dreams? Can I identify a core of generosity at the heart of those dreams? Keep asking the questions. Keep playing with the answers.

Write self-ish-ly.