Utilitopia

Many who read my introduction to Utilitopia will have noticed that it’s fairly individualistic in tone and makes no mention of class. I decided to make this the first proper post on the blog, to reassure any leftist readers, and to clarify my position.

The term individualism is used in many different ways, often with conflicting meanings. In modern political discourse, it’s frequently associated with neoliberalism and free-market capitalism. In this context, it refers to the idea that people should pursue their own self-interest and rely solely on themselves. In its most extreme form, this is expressed in the Objectivist philosophy of Ayn Rand. One of her books is titled The Virtue of Selfishness, and she openly despised altruism.

I’m not entirely opposed to this kind of economic individualism. I believe there’s a place for both individual initiative and collective responsibility. Utilitarianism is a consequentialist philosophy, if self-interest leads to greater overall wellbeing, I support it. Adam Smith famously described an “invisible hand” that guides businesspeople to serve the public good by pursuing their own goals.

At the same time, I believe state involvement in the market is often necessary and beneficial. Public investment in infrastructure, education, healthcare, and a robust welfare state helps ensure that everyone can live a decent life, whatever their circumstances. Progressive taxation and intervention to curb negative externalities are vital to preventing excessive inequality and providing services that the market alone cannot be relied upon to deliver fairly.

But this is not the only type of individualism. The form I support without reservation is moral individualism: the belief that individuals matter in themselves. They have rights, values, and preferences that should not be subordinated to the will of the groups they belong to. The nation, the state, or even “the people” are not of fundamental importance, individuals are.

I believe individuals are best equipped to determine their own values, cultural preferences, and religious beliefs, if they choose to hold any. I’m a strong believer in Mill’s harm principle: people should be free to do as they please, so long as they do not harm others.

My defence of LGBT rights, for instance, is not based primarily on biology, though that argument is sometimes useful. But to say “they can’t help it” implies that tolerance is conditional on a lack of choice. A stronger defence is to say: we all own our own bodies, and we are free to do as we wish with them.

I reconcile my strong belief in rights and individual freedom with utilitarianism in two key ways. First, rights and the ability to pursue your own conception of the good life are themselves aspects of wellbeing, and should be promoted alongside physical and material wellbeing. I don’t accept a crude form of utilitarianism that only counts pleasure or wealth. (I’ll expand on this in a future post.)

Second, respect for individual freedom is conducive to social progress. Many good ideas begin as unpopular ones. Free speech protects those ideas from being crushed by majority opinion. Universal suffrage, freedom of the press, and religious liberty were once radical demands. Scientific progress was held back for centuries by religious repression, until the Enlightenment created space for dissent and independent thought.

I’m not blind to the existence of class, but for me, it isn’t as central as it is for many on the left. When people say the working class is treated unfairly under neoliberalism, I agree. I support trade unions and left-wing parties in their fight for better wages, safer working conditions, and stronger labour protections. These movements helped secure the five-day workweek, paid holidays, minimum wages, and more.

But in line with my moral individualism, I see classes as simply aggregates of individuals—and it’s the individuals who truly matter. Class can be a useful analytical tool and a basis for collective action, especially when large groups face shared injustices. But I don’t view the working class as inherently virtuous, nor the rich as inherently wicked. What matters is how individuals are treated, what opportunities they have, and whether the system promotes wellbeing, not which class someone belongs to.

In future posts, I’ll explore what a society looks like when it takes individual freedom seriously, without abandoning fairness or compassion. Because for me, a better world starts not with the collective, but with the person.