In Praise of Selfishness

Selfishness is a perfectly acceptable human trait that nobody wants to own up to.

In the unlikely event that they do, their words will be served with a tasty side dish of guilt, as I discovered when I interviewed child-free women for my book, ‘I’d Rather Get a Cat and Save the Planet’.

“I’ll admit that I’m selfish, because I like my life the way it is,” these women would tell me, one by one, in the sort of embarrassed, hushed voices they might have used to share details of a grubby fling they’d once had with Nigel Farage.

If you accuse someone else of being selfish, watch their heckles rise and their minds whir, as they think of a) examples that prove their innocent selflessness, or b) similar charges to hurl back at you.

They’ll probably find lots of examples for both, because we all come with a certain amount of built-in light and shade. We all make occasional decisions that are in our own interest over others’, and we all make occasional decisions that put others first.

(That’s why a casual, “yes, you’re right — I am selfish,” is often the best response. It’ll save time, too… since your accuser will be flummoxed and a bit speechless, you can move the conversation on to address some of their many personal failings instead, which is much more fun.)

But I’ll come out and say it: I like people who tip the balance into selfishness.

It can be refreshing to spend time with a selfish person, because they’re more likely to show up as wholly themselves.

(“Just be yourself” is common self-help advice, but the people offering it can forget that just be yourself involves actually being yourself, warts and all.)

Selfish people are better able to articulate what they honestly think and feel, so they know what they do and don’t like. They haven’t drowned their personalities in the murky sea of other people’s wants and expectations.

Frankly, spending time with a selfish person can also be a huge boost to your own fragile ego, since it’ll be easier for you to believe that you’re a bit nicer than them. Who honestly wants to spend time with an angelic soul who makes you feel like the most unlikable human on the planet? It’s a horrible blend of dull and irritating.

I’d like “be more selfish” become more of a mantra for the modern age, particularly when it comes to business.

For example, “focus on the customer, not yourself” is common advice for freelancers like me, but following it means sounding like all those other people who do the same job.

Let’s face it, most people know what a copywriter can do for them; they know a plumber will fix that leaky tap, and they understand that an accountant will help them pay the right amount of tax.

That’s why I’d rather hang my hat on some interesting quirks about the actual person I’ll be working with — they collect taxidermy, they once featured in the Guinness Book of World Records for having the longest nose, or they love watching old editions of Top of the Pops, for example — than have them ramble on incessantly about my ‘customer pain points’.

Continuing in the luxurious spirit of selfishness, my favourite piece of advice when teaching writing courses is to forget about readers, and just write for yourself.

Why? You’ll never please everybody, and trying to will make everything you say sound like magnolia wallpaper.

But if your writing makes you feel happy and heard, then you’ll have accomplished something rather wonderful, no matter what anybody else thinks of it… and that’s what’ll keep you going, especially on those days when it feels like nobody’s noticed you and never will.

(However, as Rachel Carson once wisely said, “if you write what you yourself sincerely think and feel and are interested in, the chances are very high that you will interest other people as well.”)

There’s an old episode of Friends — though I suppose they’re all ancient now — in which Joey insists there’s no such thing as a truly unselfish act. But I happen to believe that there’s no such thing as a truly selfish act.

I don’t think selfishness is absolute in anyone; everything we do has consequences that are good, bad, and ugly, and ultimately, it’s just a question of how you balance your personal scales.

That means it is possible to make selfish decisions — like choosing to have or not have kids based on how you like your life, or maybe not going to that thing you know you’ll hate, or cutting a toxic person out of your life — and be a kind person who cares about others.

So, go forth and be more selfish.

(You can call it ‘self-care’, if that makes you feel better. Whatever you call it, you’ll probably become a more interesting person to be around… which is a good result for others, too.)