When I was 15 and in nerd camp I took an ethics course. We got into a debate at one point about altruism, as to whether or not there was really such a thing as true altruism. The counterproof was what we referred to, in our technical philosophical jargon, as “warm fuzzies,” an inevitable benefit of most acts which are seen externally as altruistic.

Tonight I had an opportunity to do something nice for another person, something which I really didn’t have to do, but which I had no reason not to. I am generally disposed toward taking such opportunities whenever I recognize them and often find myself the subject of praise to the point sometimes of amazed wonderment because of this disposition.

My initial response is to say that it is completely undeserved.

I am very tempted tonight to thank the person I was able to help out earlier this evening for affording me the opportunity to do him a service. Such actions are like a drug. It makes me feel so good to do something nice for another person that I almost feel guilt for it. I don’t think I will, in fact, thank him for this because… well, he’ll probably think I’m crazy. And maybe I am. But this is the honest truth: I’m grateful for the opportunity to perform small acts of random kindness.

Once on the subway, there was a gentleman sitting across from me who had clearly finished his coffee, and was holding on to his coffee cup. We arrived at my stop and I got up from my seat to get off of the train. The man with the coffee cup did not. As I crossed to the door I leaned over to him.

“Sir, would you like me to toss that for you?”

He looked up, seemingly baffled.

“I’m getting off here… would you like me to throw away your cup?”

He stared at me for a moment, his eyes wide. His jaw dropped and his lips spread wide into an open grin of amazed delight as he handed me his cup. He continued to stare at me, smiling, as I exited the train and disposed of his coffee cup on my way to work.

Something so small. So simple. And I fed off of the energy of this insignificant act the whole day.

Clearly such actions are of some benefit to me, no matter how abstract. This is not pure altruism. The act does not result in a net detrimental effect upon me. Just the opposite, in fact. Warm fuzzies are a real benefit and reward for what appear of the surface to be selfless actions. The real ethical question, and the thing that always bothered me in my ethics class was this:

Who really gives a damn, and why?

There are those who would argue that no act is purely good unless it is purely without benefit to the actor. Well why the hell not? What is wrong with benefit? Does it mean that we as humans would never perform a good deed without promise of a reward? If warm fuzzies count as a reward, then there is really no way of knowing. If this is the case, if there is no such thing as a good act without reward, if we have built into our psyche an automatic compensatory system, then I say its all for the further good that internal incentive is there to motivate us in the absence of external rewards. I say go forth, perform random acts of senseless kindness, reap the benefits, enjoy the high, and be merry.

Better warm fuzzies than cold pricklies.