Are you a good person? The question itself feels like a trap. We live in a world of baffling contradictions, where a figure like Mother Teresa can be seen as a saint by millions and a monster by others. This forces us to ask a more fundamental question: do "good" and "evil" even exist as fixed points on a moral map? Or are they just stories we tell ourselves? To untangle this, we must look at the very fabric of human nature, guided by the insights of philosophy and psychology.

The Seeds of Virtue: Are We Born Good?

Some of the most hopeful philosophical traditions have argued that kindness is our factory setting. We are born with an instinct for harmony, empathy, and peace. It is the world—our upbringing, our society, our institutions—that chips away at this innate goodness, leaving us scarred and capable of causing harm.

The philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau was convinced that society corrupted humanity. He imagined early humans as "noble savages," living in simple harmony with nature. They had what they needed: food and shelter. There was no need for the cunning and conflict that define modern life. Then came society, and with it, the destructive desires for wealth, power, and status. These ambitions breed envy, aggression, and war. According to this view, people aren't born evil; they are conditioned to be. Think of children who naturally share their toys until they are taught otherwise. Imagine giving a group of children one large cake; a fight for the best piece is almost inevitable. But if each child is given their own slice, the conflict disappears. The problem wasn't the children's nature, but the conditions that forced them into competition.

This idea is echoed by the ancient Chinese philosopher Mencius, who believed that every person possesses the "seeds of virtue." We instinctively feel for those who suffer. If you saw a child about to walk into traffic, your immediate impulse would be to save them, a stranger’s life sparking an undeniable reflex of compassion. Mencius argued that just as a flower's growth depends on the soil it's in, a person's kindness depends on their environment. But the seed is always there.

Perhaps the most profound example of this is Viktor Frankl, who endured a Nazi concentration camp. Surrounded by unimaginable cruelty, hunger, and death, it would have been understandable for him to become embittered. Yet, Frankl not only held onto his own humanity but actively helped other prisoners find meaning in their suffering. This suggests that the seeds of virtue can survive—and even blossom—in the most toxic soil imaginable. If evil is a wound inflicted by the outside world, then kindness is our inner capacity to heal it.

The War of All Against All: Are We Naturally Selfish?

On the other side of the debate are thinkers who saw a darker, more dangerous core in human nature. They argued that we are born as cruel egoists, driven by a lust for power, and that only the cage of law and culture can restrain our inner tyrants.

Thomas Hobbes famously argued that the natural state of humanity is a "war of all against all." He was convinced that without a strong state and strict rules, society would dissolve into chaos. He saw greed, rivalry, and a desperate will to survive at any cost as our primary motivators. In such a state, anyone is willing to harm another for their own benefit. Think of the panic during a crisis, when people hoard essential goods, their concern for others evaporating in the face of fear. From this perspective, a driver who stops for a pedestrian does so not out of kindness, but out of a fear of punishment. Selfishness isn't necessarily evil; it's a raw, amoral survival instinct.

Sigmund Freud, though a psychologist, offered ideas that resonated deeply with this philosophical view. He saw human nature as a constant battleground between our conscious morality and our unconscious instincts—especially aggression. Deep within us is the "Id," a source of primitive desires we try to suppress. The inexplicable anger that erupts during a sports game or the way we lash out at a loved one after a hard day at work reveals how these instincts can overwhelm our reason. According to Freud, culture and education can put a leash on our aggression, but they can never destroy it.

The Science of Our Better Angels (and Our Demons)

Psychology reframes the debate. To a psychologist, "good" and "evil" are not personality traits but social constructs. They only exist in the space between people. You cannot be kind or evil in a vacuum.

Humanistic psychology, pioneered by figures like Carl Rogers, aligns with the more optimistic philosophers. Rogers believed that every person has a fundamental drive toward "self-actualization"—to realize their best and most positive potential. From this standpoint, we always act from what we perceive to be good motives; every choice you've made was the best one you saw available at that moment.

Our biology seems to support this. Kindness feels good because our brain's reward system releases dopamine when we help others, biologically programming us to be good. Our brains also contain "mirror neurons" that allow us to feel what others are feeling, forming the basis of empathy. When you see a friend who is upset and feel an urge to hug them, that’s your biology at work. That hug releases oxytocin, a neurotransmitter that reduces stress and strengthens social bonds. It’s a mechanism that connects us, making kindness beneficial not only for the receiver but for the giver as well.

However, psychology also acknowledges our darker potential. Aggression, too, is a part of our nature. Modern psychology identifies a "dark triad" of personality traits—narcissism, Machiavellianism, and psychopathy—that reflect a capacity for cruelty and manipulation. Biologists like Richard Dawkins argue that we are selfish at a genetic level, with our genes single-mindedly focused on their own survival. Even acts of altruism can be a disguise for selfish motives.

Stress is a key that unlocks this darker side. Under pressure, our brain's emotional centers can hijack our rational thought, making us impulsive and aggressive. Stress doesn't create aggression, but it lowers our threshold for it. The frustration you feel when someone is breathing too loudly nearby is rarely about the noise itself; it's about the accumulated stress from work, a bad night’s sleep, or personal problems. Aggression, unpleasantly, is a highly effective stress-reducer, which explains the phenomenon of displaced aggression: you have a bad day at work, you yell at your partner, who then scolds the child, who then kicks the cat. The more danger and stress we feel, the more selfish and aggressive we become, especially toward those we perceive as "strangers" or outsiders.

A Blank Slate or a Tangled Web? The Final Verdict

So, are we angels corrupted by the world, or beasts tamed by society? Perhaps the answer is neither. Human nature may be inherently neutral. We are not born good or evil; we are born with the potential for both.

The philosopher John Locke proposed that the human mind is a tabula rasa, a "blank slate." Everything we become is written on us by experience. A child raised with love and compassion has every chance of becoming good. But modern science suggests we aren't a perfectly blank slate; we arrive with predispositions toward empathy, fear, and joy.

Ultimately, morality might be a matter of conscious choice, as Immanuel Kant suggested. He argued that an action is only truly good if it is freely chosen. If we were programmed to be kind, our goodness would be meaningless. The real value lies in choosing compassion when selfishness is easier, in choosing integrity when no one is watching.

We are, it seems, the most empathetic and the most dangerous species on Earth. We can save, love, and support, and we can torture, hate, and destroy. Human nature is not a simple verdict of "good" or "evil," but a complex and often contradictory mix of light and shadow. We are not defined by our instincts, but by which instincts we choose to cultivate. The choice, it seems, remains ours.

References

• Hobbes, T. (1651). Leviathan.
  This foundational work of political philosophy argues that the natural state of humanity, without a governing power, is one of perpetual conflict or a "war of all against all." Hobbes posits that human beings are driven by self-interest and a fear of death, which leads them to form societies and submit to an absolute sovereign to escape the chaos of their natural condition. This directly supports the article's discussion of the view that humans are inherently selfish and require strict rules to maintain order (specifically, see Part 1, Chapter 13, "Of the Natural Condition of Mankind as Concerning Their Felicity and Misery").
• Rogers, C. R. (1961). On Becoming a Person: A Therapist's View of Psychotherapy.
  This book is a cornerstone of humanistic psychology. Rogers introduces his core theory that individuals have an innate "actualizing tendency" to grow and develop their potential in positive, constructive ways. He argues that with conditions of empathy, congruence, and unconditional positive regard, people will naturally move toward becoming more fully functioning and compassionate. This provides the academic basis for the article's section on the psychological and philosophical view that humans are inherently good (see chapters on "A Therapist's View of the Good Life" and "The Characteristics of a Helping Relationship").
• Dawkins, R. (1976). The Selfish Gene.
  In this landmark book on evolution, Dawkins reframes the unit of natural selection as the gene, rather than the individual or species. He argues that living organisms, including humans, are essentially "survival machines" for their genes, which are inherently "selfish." Behaviors that appear altruistic are often explained as strategies that ultimately benefit the survival and propagation of an individual's own genes. This work is a primary source for the article's exploration of the biological and evolutionary arguments for inherent selfishness and aggression.