Read Online How I Met Your Mother and Philosophy by Lorenzo von Matterhorn - Free Book Online

supposed. Consider an example dear to the hearts of all philosophers—saving a drowning ex-girlfriend from a lake. From an egoist standpoint, why should you dive in and get your best suit muddy? After all, ex-girlfriends are certainly not friends. If you just stand there on the bank and watch, some philosophers will hold you morally responsible for your ex’s death, since they regard acts of omission as morally equivalent to acts of commission: failing to jump in the lake to save her is just the same as shooting her in the face.
    In any case, if ethical egoism requires that you refuse to help, then it does go against common-sense views about what you ought to do. This might provide some ammunition for those who think it is not well-motivated. Also, you may feel that Barney is not really so hard-hearted as to stand by and watch anyone drown.
    Fortunately, the egoist has a rejoinder. If he amends his egoism slightly, he can maintain that you ought to help the drowning ex. It may be that there are certain moral rules that the egoist is constrained to abide by in pursuing his egoism, for example that you should not kill the innocent (or even allow them to die). The existence of these rules need not threaten your egoism, for it is still the case that the only goal that the egoist seeks is his own good. Following the rules is not a goal; it is just something that it is not morally possible to avoid doing.
    We can draw a comparison here with the game of chess. There are many reasons for playing chess: for a diverting pastime, for the intellectual benefits it can bring, or for the exquisite pleasure of watching your opponent squirm as you ram your passed pawn down her throat. However, once you’re playing there is but one goal—checkmate. Of course there are lots of rules of chess. You can’t achieve checkmate just by picking up your queen and placing it next to your opponent’s king, if that move is not a legal move in the actual position. This does not mean that the chess player has some other goal than checkmate,for instance checkmating in accordance with the rules. Checkmating when in breach of the rules is not checkmating at all, for then you are no longer playing chess. Similarly, the egoist will insist that obeying the rules and acting against his self interest does not mean that he is no longer an egoist. A concession has been made: what makes an action right is no longer determined wholly by self-interest, since you must also refer to the rules. However, your ultimate aim is still just to maximize your own good.
    An egoism amended along these lines to incorporate some moral absolutes, and which expands the ego to include friends, is actually more in keeping with common sense than other ethical theories which insist that you should treat everyone the same, whether they are complete strangers, friends, or even yourself. Barney is a stickler for rules: as Ted puts it, “I’m sick of all the rules. There’s too many of them: the Hot-Crazy Scale, the Lemon Law, the Platinum Rule. If everyone in the world followed every one of your rules, the human race would cease to exist” (“The Platinum Rule”). So Ted’s not a fan; but there’s every reason to think that Barney would find this version of ethical egoism appealing.
    And the Moral of the Story Is . . .?
    Our look at egoism has taught us something important about Barney. When we first meet him, he can come across as a bit of a jerk, entertaining when viewed from a distance, but hardly someone we would choose as a close friend. Early on, Ted admits that he had no idea why he hung out with him (“Sweet Taste of Liberty”). However, as the series progresses, he quickly develops into its breakout character. We end up sympathizing with him and liking him at least as much as any of the others (something the writers evidently grew to realize, as his story becomes ever more central).
    Our burgeoning affection towards Barney