sounds to me like slime molds are selfish

In a Boulder restaurant with stained glass art corresponding to our chakras and a trio of fermented cabbages, gluten free flax crackers and a beet hummus, I learned something new.

Slime molds are altruistic.

Because sometimes, when things get rough and the world around changes unexpectedly, the individuals that make up the slime mold form themselves into a sporulating structure.  They undergo a metamorphosis allowing them to reproduce, spreading with the hope that the fungal offspring will find a friendlier home.  In the process, the individual organisms that make up the newly formed reproductive system sacrifice their own genetic propagation and, for the benefit of the species, reach beyond themselves to help cultivate the seed of their slimy cousins.

I was confused.

"That doesn't sound like altruism," I said.  "It sounds like what a species does to survive."

His response was something to the tune of, "Well, when you think about it in human terms, it might be a nice metaphor for altruism, a way of thinking outside oneself for the betterment of the whole."

I was confused.

"To be honest, the idea of 'altruism' has always confused me," (perhaps I was a bit righteous) "If each individual is, in truth, part of the whole, what is altruism, but another word for selfishness?" 

The whole idea of altruism presupposes that actions geared toward the individual are the norm or the natural way to be.  The suggestion that altruism exists removes us from the possibility that we are all connected, that the natural state of being is one of fundamental collaboration for the creative evolution of our DNA.

"Sounds to me like slime molds are selfish.  Or altruistically selfish."

If I could look into your face and see myself, how could I not make a reproductive system of myself with the hope that your spores might someday travel to fertile ground?