The only sin is selfishness. So said the good
Doctor. When she first expressed this opinion I was young enough
initially to be puzzled and then to be impressed at what I took to be
her profundity.
It was only later, in my
middle-age, when she was long gone from us, that I began to suspect that
the opposite is just as true. Arguably there is a sense in which
selfishness is the only true virtue, and therefore that as opposites are
given to cancelling each other out selfishness is finally neutral,
indeed valueless, outside a supporting moral context. In later years
still my maturity, if you will, or my old age, if you wish I have with
some reluctance again come to respect the Doctor's point of view, and to
agree with her, tentatively at least, that selfishness is the root of
most evil, if not all.
Of course I always knew
what she meant. That it is when we put our own interests before those of
others that we are most likely to do wrong, and that there is a
commonality of guilt whether the crime is that of a child stealing coins
from his mother's purse or an Emperor ordering genocide. With either
act, and all those in between, we say: Our gratification matters more to
us than whatever distress or anguish may be caused to you and yours by
our actions. In other words, that our desire outranks your suffering.
My middle-years objection was that only by acting on our desires, by attempting to bring about what pleases us because it feels agreeable, are we able to create wealth, comfort, happiness and what the good Doctor would have termed in that vague, generalising way of hers 'progress'.
Eventually, though, I came to admit to myself that, while my objection might be true, it is insufficiently all-embracing to cancel out the Doctor's assertion entirely, and that while it may sometimes be a virtue, selfishness by its nature is more often a sin, or a direct cause of sin.
We never like to think of ourselves as being wrong, just misunderstood. We never like to think that we are sinning, merely that we are making hard decisions, and acting upon them. Providence is the name of the mystical, divinely inhuman Court before which we wish our actions to be judged, and which we hope will agree with us in our estimation both of our own worth and the culpability or otherwise of our behaviour.
I suspect the good Doctor (you see, I judge her too in naming her so) did not believe in Providence. I was never entirely sure what she did believe in, though I was always quite convinced that she believed in something. Perhaps, despite all she said about selfishness, she believed in herself and nothing else. Perhaps she believed in this Progress that she talked about, or perhaps in some strange way, as a foreigner, she believed in us, in the people she lived with and cared for, in a way that we did not believe in ourselves. -- Inversions, Ian Banks