The Ego and Its Own

Socrates was a 'fool' to concede to the Athenians the right to condemn him; his failure to escape was a 'weakness', a product of his 'delusion' that he was a member of a community rather than an individual, and of his failure to understand that the Athenians were his 'enemies', that he himself and no one else could be his only judge (p. 191).

Alcibiades, in contrast—who, amongst other infamies, fled Athens to avoid trial when he was suspected of complicity in the mutilation of the Hermae—is praised as an 'intriguer of genius' (p. 191), an egoist who undermined the state precisely by breaking with the ancient prejudice that individuals were free only if, and to the extent that, they were members of a free community.

Take the example of the 'avaricious man' who sacrifices everything else in order 'to gather treasures' (p. 70); his actions are clearly self-interested (he acts only to enrich himself), but it is an egoism that Stirner rejects as 'a one-sided, unopened, narrow egoism' (p. 70), because with the subordination of everything to a single end, that end begins to 'inspire, enthuse, fanaticize' us, it 'becomes our - master' (p. 58). In short, this one-sided, 'self-sacrificing' egoism is rejected because it violates our 'ownness'; the avaricious man, Stirner suggests, rather than being self-determining, is 'dragged along' (p. 56) by his appetites.

Stirnerian self-mastery thus has both external and internal dimensions, demanding not only that we avoid subordinating ourselves to others, but also that we avoid submitting to our own appetites or ends.

Stirner accepts the claim that if any idea or desire 'plants itself firmly in me, and becomes indissoluble', then I have 'become its prisoner and servant, a possessed man' (p. 127). This attack on the Christian 'fixedity' of ideas does not entail that the egoist can no longer allow herself to have ideas, but rather that she must never allow an idea to make her 'a tool of its realization' (p. 302).

The egoist must exercise 'power' not only over 'the exactions and violences of the world', but also exercise this 'power over my nature' and avoid becoming the 'slave of my appetites' (p. 295). Stirner thus encourages the individual to cultivate and extend an ideal of emotional detachment towards both her passions and her ideas.

In contrast to Stirner's rejection of civil disobedience is his notorious endorsement of crime. Stirner denies that crime is peculiarly concerned with direct relations between individuals; rather, it mediates the relation between an individual and the sacred (in the form of legality).

The criminal is punished not by individuals for actions which have harmed them, but by the state for actions which have undermined some fixed idea (without the legal recognition of the sanctity of marriage, for example, infidelity is not a 'crime' whatever its effects on individuals). Crime will accordingly disappear with the epoch of egoism, when actions are judged by their effect on individual interests (not their effect on the sacred).

Meanwhile, Stirner defends the individual act of crime as an assertion of individual autonomy against its chief usurper, weakening the 'cement' (respect for law) which holds the state together. In more generalized form—and drawing a distinction between 'revolution' (which seeks to erect a new social order) and 'insurrection' (which represents the opposition of individuals to any order)—Stirner even suggests that crime has a unique insurrectionary potential which might eventually destroy the state.

Socrates was a 'fool' to concede to the Athenians the right to condemn him; his failure to escape was a 'weakness', a product of his 'delusion' that he was a member of a community rather than an individual, and of his failure to understand that the Athenians were his 'enemies', that he himself and no one else could be his only judge (p. 191).

Alcibiades, in contrast—who, amongst other infamies, fled Athens to avoid trial when he was suspected of complicity in the mutilation of the Hermae—is praised as an 'intriguer of genius' (p. 191), an egoist who undermined the state precisely by breaking with the ancient prejudice that individuals were free only if, and to the extent that, they were members of a free community.

Individuals have also been held to have obligations generated by their membership of communities that they neither create nor choose to belong to, communities bound by 'natural ligatures' (p. 276) such as 'blood', locality, language, class, and common disposition.

Stirner's predictable response to the resulting conflict between such obligations and 'ownness' is to reject the value of community in all its forms. The sentimental blandishments of German nationhood, for example, are ridiculed as 'general, abstract, an empty, lifeless, concept' (p. 205); patriotism, he insists, is incompatible with egoism (p. 32).

Similarly, because of the potential conflict between family obligations and personal interests, Stirner insists that individuals should act autonomously and follow their own good, rather than succumbing out of 'weakness' to either the will of another family member or the sacred in the form of 'family honour'; 'the forming of family ties', claims Stirner, 'binds a man' (p. 102).

Stirner makes no attempt to distinguish between feeling 'at home' and being subjugated. 'Belonging' can of course connote being a part of as well as being the rightful possession of; 'bonds' can similarly suggest solidarity as well as that which shackles; 'ties' can provide security as well as bind.

Stirner, however, never seriously considers the possibility that these communities might fulfil, still less that they can empower, individuals. It seems that belonging to a 'natural' community is equivalent to being owned by another, and 'the individual', writes Stirner, 'is the irreconcilable enemy of . . . every tie, every fetter' (p. 192).

I have no need to take up each thing that wants to throw its cause on us and show that it is occupied only with itself, not with us, only with its good, not with ours. Look at the rest for yourselves. Do truth, freedom, humanity, justice, desire anything else than that you grow enthusiastic and serve them?

What is not supposed to be my concern! First and foremost, the Good Cause, then God's cause, the cause of mankind, of truth, of freedom, of humanity, of justice; further, the cause of my people, my prince, my fatherland; finally, even the cause of Mind, and a thousand other causes. Only my cause is never to be my concern. "Shame on the egoist who thinks only of himself!

What is not supposed to be my concern! First and foremost, the Good Cause, then God's cause, the cause of mankind, of truth, of freedom, of humanity, of justice; further, the cause of my people, my prince, my fatherland; finally, even the cause of Mind, and a thousand other causes. Only my cause is never to be my concern. "Shame on the egoist who thinks only of himself!

I have no need to take up each thing that wants to throw its cause on us and show that it is occupied only with itself, not with us, only with its good, not with ours. Look at the rest for yourselves. Do truth, freedom, humanity, justice, desire anything else than that you grow enthusiastic and serve them?

The young are of age when they twitter like the old; they are driven through school to learn the old song, and, when they have this by heart, they are declared of age.

Take the example of the 'avaricious man' who sacrifices everything else in order 'to gather treasures' (p. 70); his actions are clearly self-interested (he acts only to enrich himself), but it is an egoism that Stirner rejects as 'a one-sided, unopened, narrow egoism' (p. 70), because with the subordination of everything to a single end, that end begins to 'inspire, enthuse, fanaticize' us, it 'becomes our - master' (p. 58). In short, this one-sided, 'self-sacrificing' egoism is rejected because it violates our 'ownness'; the avaricious man, Stirner suggests, rather than being self-determining, is 'dragged along' (p. 56) by his appetites.

Stirnerian self-mastery thus has both external and internal dimensions, demanding not only that we avoid subordinating ourselves to others, but also that we avoid submitting to our own appetites or ends.

Stirner accepts the claim that if any idea or desire 'plants itself firmly in me, and becomes indissoluble', then I have 'become its prisoner and servant, a possessed man' (p. 127). This attack on the Christian 'fixedity' of ideas does not entail that the egoist can no longer allow herself to have ideas, but rather that she must never allow an idea to make her 'a tool of its realization' (p. 302).

The egoist must exercise 'power' not only over 'the exactions and violences of the world', but also exercise this 'power over my nature' and avoid becoming the 'slave of my appetites' (p. 295). Stirner thus encourages the individual to cultivate and extend an ideal of emotional detachment towards both her passions and her ideas.

In contrast to Stirner's rejection of civil disobedience is his notorious endorsement of crime. Stirner denies that crime is peculiarly concerned with direct relations between individuals; rather, it mediates the relation between an individual and the sacred (in the form of legality).

The criminal is punished not by individuals for actions which have harmed them, but by the state for actions which have undermined some fixed idea (without the legal recognition of the sanctity of marriage, for example, infidelity is not a 'crime' whatever its effects on individuals). Crime will accordingly disappear with the epoch of egoism, when actions are judged by their effect on individual interests (not their effect on the sacred).

Meanwhile, Stirner defends the individual act of crime as an assertion of individual autonomy against its chief usurper, weakening the 'cement' (respect for law) which holds the state together. In more generalized form—and drawing a distinction between 'revolution' (which seeks to erect a new social order) and 'insurrection' (which represents the opposition of individuals to any order)—Stirner even suggests that crime has a unique insurrectionary potential which might eventually destroy the state.

Socrates was a 'fool' to concede to the Athenians the right to condemn him; his failure to escape was a 'weakness', a product of his 'delusion' that he was a member of a community rather than an individual, and of his failure to understand that the Athenians were his 'enemies', that he himself and no one else could be his only judge (p. 191).

Alcibiades, in contrast—who, amongst other infamies, fled Athens to avoid trial when he was suspected of complicity in the mutilation of the Hermae—is praised as an 'intriguer of genius' (p. 191), an egoist who undermined the state precisely by breaking with the ancient prejudice that individuals were free only if, and to the extent that, they were members of a free community.

Individuals have also been held to have obligations generated by their membership of communities that they neither create nor choose to belong to, communities bound by 'natural ligatures' (p. 276) such as 'blood', locality, language, class, and common disposition.

Stirner's predictable response to the resulting conflict between such obligations and 'ownness' is to reject the value of community in all its forms. The sentimental blandishments of German nationhood, for example, are ridiculed as 'general, abstract, an empty, lifeless, concept' (p. 205); patriotism, he insists, is incompatible with egoism (p. 32).

Similarly, because of the potential conflict between family obligations and personal interests, Stirner insists that individuals should act autonomously and follow their own good, rather than succumbing out of 'weakness' to either the will of another family member or the sacred in the form of 'family honour'; 'the forming of family ties', claims Stirner, 'binds a man' (p. 102).

Stirner makes no attempt to distinguish between feeling 'at home' and being subjugated. 'Belonging' can of course connote being a part of as well as being the rightful possession of; 'bonds' can similarly suggest solidarity as well as that which shackles; 'ties' can provide security as well as bind.

Stirner, however, never seriously considers the possibility that these communities might fulfil, still less that they can empower, individuals. It seems that belonging to a 'natural' community is equivalent to being owned by another, and 'the individual', writes Stirner, 'is the irreconcilable enemy of . . . every tie, every fetter' (p. 192).

Socrates was a 'fool' to concede to the Athenians the right to condemn him; his failure to escape was a 'weakness', a product of his 'delusion' that he was a member of a community rather than an individual, and of his failure to understand that the Athenians were his 'enemies', that he himself and no one else could be his only judge (p. 191).

Alcibiades, in contrast—who, amongst other infamies, fled Athens to avoid trial when he was suspected of complicity in the mutilation of the Hermae—is praised as an 'intriguer of genius' (p. 191), an egoist who undermined the state precisely by breaking with the ancient prejudice that individuals were free only if, and to the extent that, they were members of a free community.

I have no need to take up each thing that wants to throw its cause on us and show that it is occupied only with itself, not with us, only with its good, not with ours. Look at the rest for yourselves. Do truth, freedom, humanity, justice, desire anything else than that you grow enthusiastic and serve them?