What Happens to Selfish People?
Let’s talk about selfishness. Not in a finger-wagging way—more like, why does it seem that the more self-centred someone is, the less joy they actually have in life?
Ever noticed that? The people who are always grabbing for more—more stuff, more praise, more attention—don’t exactly radiate peace or happiness. They might look like they’re winning on the outside, but on the inside? Often, not so much.
So, what’s going on there?
Does Being Self-serving Steal Our Joy?
It kind of makes sense that real happiness comes from being in a good place inside, right? If you’re content with your life, at peace with who you are, you tend to feel calm and grounded. But if you’re always chasing something you don’t have—whether it’s admiration, money, control—it creates this constant state of restlessness. You’re always hungry, and the hunger never quite goes away.
Now, when someone finds joy in helping others—really being there for people—that in itself becomes rewarding. You feel useful. You feel connected. But when someone’s joy comes from stirring the pot, putting others down, or hoarding stuff they don’t need? That kind of pleasure is short-lived. Eventually, it curdles into frustration.
So, yes—being inconsiderate and self-indulgent goes hand in hand with joylessness.
But What If I’m Happy Being Selfish?
Fair question. It can feel good to do whatever you want without caring what anyone else thinks. Instant gratification is called that for a reason.
But here’s where the teachings of Emanuel Swedenborg offer some food for thought. He suggested that the deeper, lasting kind of happiness—the soul-deep kind—comes not from getting what you want, but from being honest, kind, and actively contributing to something beyond yourself.
It’s not about being a doormat. It’s about not making your own comfort the center of the universe.
Swedenborg would say that selfishness leads to a kind of fake happiness. It looks shiny, but it doesn’t go deep. And underneath, there’s often loneliness, comparison, and the exhausting need to prove yourself.
Isn’t Everyone Selfish, Though?
True—none of us are angels 100% of the time. But there’s a difference between occasionally slipping into self-interest and living your whole life around “me first.”
Being self-absorbed means living primarily for yourself—craving pleasure, praise, power, and possessions, and ignoring how your actions affect others. It’s like feeding a fire that’s never full. No matter how much you give it, it always wants more.
Swedenborg saw this as a kind of spiritual illusion. You think you’re chasing happiness, but you’re actually running away from it.
The paradox? Real happiness often sneaks in through the side door—when you’re not trying to grab it, but giving something meaningful away.
What About the Afterlife?
Now, here’s where things get interesting (and a little cosmic).
According to Swedenborg, after we die, we tend to gravitate toward people who are like us in character. Not in a judgmental way—it’s just that we feel most at home with people who share our values, whether those values are selfish or selfless.
Think about it. Even in this life, we naturally gather with people who think and live similarly to us. Kind people often find each other. So do those who love gossip. Or violence. Or service. Or poetry.
So imagine this continuing into the next life.
If you’ve spent your life seeking power or praise, you’ll likely end up among others doing the same. And guess what? That’s not exactly a recipe for a harmonious community. Everyone wants to be the star. No one wants to play support. That kind of environment quickly becomes toxic—rivalry, manipulation, even hostility.
Swedenborg saw that among selfish souls, there’s no real love or respect, not even if they are sexual partners. Just constant power struggles. Everyone trying to get the upper hand. That’s not just a metaphorical hell. That is hell.
Can egoistic People Change?
This is the hopeful bit.
Not everyone who’s self-orientated is doomed to stay that way forever. Life is complicated. Some people have only known hardship, neglect, or survival-mode living. Being self-centered might have been their only defense.
Swedenborg suggested that in the early stages of the afterlife, people can change—if they want to. If their self-centredness hasn’t completely hardened into something cruel or sadistic, there’s room for growth.
But here’s the catch: change requires insight. You have to see your behavior for what it is, and want something different. That kind of self-honesty is painful. It’s like suddenly seeing your messy room under bright light—you cringe, and instinctively want to turn it off.
And some people do. They see the truth about themselves, and instead of facing it, they run. They retreat into the shadows of self-deception. Why? Because staying in the light—facing who you really are—is just too uncomfortable.
What If We Don’t Want to Change?
Swedenborg said that God (or the Divine, or the Lord—choose the language that works for you) doesn’t punish anyone by throwing them into hell. There’s no eternal damnation from a judgmental deity with a gavel.
What happens instead is something much subtler—and more tragic.
We choose where we belong, based on what we love most. If we cling to selfishness, that’s the world we’re drawn into. Not because God sends us there, but because that’s where we feel “at home.” Even if it’s not joyful, it’s familiar.
The sad thing is, self-serving people might think they’re happy, but it’s a limited happiness. It doesn’t grow or deepen. It doesn’t connect. It’s brittle. And when surrounded by others just like them, that fake happiness starts to feel pretty empty.
Is Hell Just… Self-Exclusion?
Here’s something interesting: the Roman Catholic Church once described hell not as a punishment, but as “definitive self-exclusion from communion with God and the blessed.” That’s pretty close to what Swedenborg describes, too.
In other words, it’s not that God locks us out of heaven. We walk away from it, because the joy, light, and kindness there just don’t feel good to us. We prefer the dark. We prefer the delusion. And so we stay there.
It’s tragic, but also fair. Love can’t be forced. Real joy can’t be imposed. We have to choose it.
So What’s the Takeaway?
It all comes down to what we value most. If our lives are built on trying to win, dominate, and indulge ourselves, then eventually we’ll end up in a space (this life or the next) where that’s all anyone else wants too. And it’s exhausting.
But if we start now—even in small ways—choosing kindness, generosity, and community, we’re building the kind of world we’ll want to live in, both now and later.
Happiness doesn’t come from chasing it. It comes from showing up for others, being real, and letting love lead.
And selfishness? It might give you a quick hit of pleasure, but in the long run, it’s like junk food for the soul. Tastes good for a moment, but it leaves you hungry, tired, and alone.
Copyright 2025 Stephen Russell-Lacy
Author of The Great Questions of Life
