Is all good work “selfless service”?
In recent times, social media has been flooded with posts glorifying individuals for doing commendable work in their respective professions. Teachers, doctors, engineers, artisans, and labourers are frequently projected as symbols of “selfless service.” While dedication and sincerity certainly deserve appreciation, equating all professional work with selflessness is neither accurate nor honest.
Good work and selfless service are not the same.
I have been serving as a teacher in the education department for the past 27 years. During this long journey, I have worked at Middle School Bonakote (housed in a rented building), Girls High School Kaloosa, High School Mantrigam, High School Bagh, Middle School Khibar (Drass, Kargil), NM Higher Secondary School, GMS Onagam, and High School Laharwalpora. In Kargil, I walked nearly 1.5 kilometres uphill every day to reach the school. Currently, I am posted at IHS Laharwalpora, on the banks of Wullar in Bandipora.
At High School Mantrigam, with nearly 1,100 enrolled students, teachers remained occupied throughout the day with hardly any break. The work was demanding, exhausting, and required commitment—but we were paid for it. Today, I continue to perform my duties sincerely, and once again, I receive a salary. There is dignity in this work, but honesty demands that it be called what it is: professional service.
For nearly two decades, I also taught students at home and elsewhere before and after school hours. Some paid fees; others did not. Can this be termed selfless service? Not entirely. The moment money enters the equation, it becomes a professional engagement. There is nothing immoral in this—professionalism must be respected—but it should not be mislabelled as selflessness.
This distinction applies across professions. A doctor who treats patients, an engineer who supervises construction, or a teacher who imparts knowledge provides valuable service to society. However, when these services are rendered against payment, they fall within the domain of profession or business, not selfless service. Just as a grocery store owner, butcher, baker, motor mechanic, or stationery shopkeeper earns through honest labour, professionals too sell their expertise—and rightly so.
True selfless service is rare. It is service rendered without expectation of money, recognition, comfort, publicity, or personal gain. If a teacher teaches students of his institution free of cost before or after duty hours; if a doctor treats patients free after official duty; if an officer attends people’s files without seeking favour—that is selflessness. How many among us truly practise it?
Recently, I learned about a senior doctor, the Head of his Department at a premier tertiary hospital, who attends his duties even during holidays and does not avail off days, focusing solely on patient care. Such dedication, beyond obligation, indeed deserves appreciation and gratitude. In contrast, another HOD drawing a handsome salary charges ₹500 per patient for a routine check-up. There is nothing illegal or unusual about this—but it remains a business transaction, not selfless service.
Similarly, a teacher drawing a good salary and charging hefty tuition fees, or an engineer overseeing construction for payment, is engaged in professional activity—not altruism. Some argue that even social work carries hidden motives. I openly admit that whatever social work I engage in gives me inner satisfaction, peace of mind, and hope for reward in the hereafter. By that measure, even my social service cannot claim to be completely selfless.
Conclusion
Words matter. When we casually label every paid duty as “selfless service,” we dilute the meaning of both service and selflessness. Let us honour professionals for their competence, dedication, and integrity—and reserve our highest moral praise for those rare individuals who serve without expectation, without advertisement, and without return.
Selfless service does not seek applause; it quietly fulfils a moral obligation. Recognising this distinction is not cynicism—it is intellectual honesty. Actually, just honesty. Mathematical.
Javid Jawad, award winning teacher.
