It reminds me of the position of the character Callicles in Plato's dialogue: Gorgias. It also reminds me of Nietzsche's concept of will to power.
Maybe this SEP entry will be useful:
Callicles’ version of the immoralist challenge turns out to involve
four main components, which I will discuss in order: [1] a critique of
conventional justice [nomos], [2] a positive account of ‘justice
according to nature’ [phusis], [3] a theory of the virtues, and [4] a
hedonistic conception of the good.
[2] and [3] seem to match your first point, and both [1] and [4] with your second point.
[1] Callicles locates the origins of the convention in a conspiracy of the
weak: “the people who institute our laws are the weak and the many…
they assign praise and blame with themselves and their own advantage
in mind” (483b). This diagnosis of ordinary moral language as a mask
for self-interest is reminiscent of Thrasymachus; but there is also a
contrast, for Thrasymachus presented the laws as adapted to serve the
strong, i.e., the rulers. Callicles is perhaps more narrowly focussed
on democratic societies, which he depicts as involving the tyranny of
the weak many over exceptional individuals. The many “mold the best
and the most powerful among us … and with charms and incantations we
subdue them into slavery, telling them that one is supposed to get no
more than his fair share” (483e–484a). This rhetorically powerful
critique of justice inaugurates a durable philosophical tradition:
Nietzsche, Foucault, and their successors in various projects of
genealogy and ‘unmasking’ are all Callicles’ heirs.
[2] For all its ranting sound, Callicles has a straightforward and
logically valid argument here: (1) observation of nature can disclose
the content of ‘natural justice’; (2) nature is to be observed in the
realms where moral conventions have no hold, viz among states and
among animals; (3) such observation discloses the domination and
exploitation of the weak by the strong; (4) therefore, it is natural
justice for the strong to rule over and have more than the weak.
[3] Callicles’ theory of the virtues: As with Thrasymachus, Socrates’
response is to press Callicles regarding the deeper commitments on
which his views depend. He first prods Callicles to articulate the
conception of the ‘superior’ which his account of natural justice
involves. Callicles has said that nature reveals that it is just for
the ‘superior’, ‘better’ or ‘stronger’ to have more: but who are they
(488b–c)? In practice, as Socrates points out, ‘the many’, whom
Callicles has condemned as weak, are in fact stronger: they are able,
as Callicles himself has complained, to suppress the gifted few. So,
like Thrasymachus when faced with the fact that rulers sometimes make
mistakes in the pursuit of self-interest, Callicles now has to
distinguish the ‘strength’ he admires from actual political power.
(This leaves it unclear whether and why we should still see the
invasions of Darius and Xerxes as examples of the ‘strong’ exercising
the ‘justice of nature’; since both their expeditions were notorious
failures, the examples are rather perplexing anyway.)
Callicles goes on to articulate (with some help from Socrates) a
conception of ‘superiority’ in terms of a pair of very traditional
sounding virtues: intelligence [phronêsis], particularly about the
affairs of the city, and courage [andreia], which makes men “competent
to accomplish whatever they have in mind, without slackening off
because of softness of spirit” (491a–b). These are the familiar
‘functional’ virtues of the Homeric warrior, and the claim that such a
man should be rewarded with a ‘greater share’ is no sophistic novelty
but a restatement of the Homeric warrior ethic: the best fighter in
the battle of the day deserves the best cut of the meat at night. At
the same time, Callicles is interestingly reluctant to describe his
‘superior’ man as possessing the virtue of justice [dikaiosunê], which
we might have expected him to redefine as conformity to the justice of
nature. Instead, he seems to dispense with any conception of justice
as a virtue; and he explicitly rejects the fourth traditional virtue
which Plato will take as canonical in the Republic, sôphrosunê,
temperance or moderation.
[4] It is not made clear to us what pleasures Callicles himself had in
mind—perhaps he himself is hazy on that point. All he says is that the
superior man must “allow his own appetites to get as large as possible
and not restrain them. And when they are as large as possible, he
ought to be competent to devote himself to them by virtue of his
courage and intelligence, and to fill him with whatever he may have an
appetite for at the time” (491e–492a). This seems to leave the content
of those appetites entirely a matter of subjective preference. And
Callicles eventually allows himself, without much resistance, to be
committed by Socrates to a simple and extreme form of hedonism: all
pleasures are good and pleasure is the good (495a–e). Their arguments
over this thesis stand at the start of a fascinating and complex Greek
debate over the nature and value of pleasure, which is here understood
as the ‘filling’ or ‘replenishment’ of some painful lack (e.g., the
pleasure of drinking is a replenishment in relation to the pain of
thirst). However, it is difficult to be sure how much this discussion
tells us about Callicles, since it is Socrates who elaborates the
conception of pleasure as replenishment on which it depends. Even the
strength of Callicles’ commitment to the hedonistic equation of
pleasure and the good is uncertain. At 499b, having been refuted by
Socrates, he casually allows that some pleasures are better than
others; and as noted above, hedonism was introduced in the first place
not as a thesis he was keen to propound, but as the answer to a
question he could not avoid—viz, the stronger should ‘have more’ of
what? Callicles’ philosophical enthusiasm is not, it seems, for
pleasure itself but for the intensity, self-assertion and extravagance
that accompany its pursuit on a grand scale: he endorses hedonism so
as to repudiate the restraints of temperance, rather than the other
way around. One way to understand this rather oddly structured
position is, again, as inspired by the Homeric tradition. Callicles’
somewhat murky ideal, the superior man, is imagined as having the
arrogant grandeur of the larger-than-life Homeric heroes; but what
this new breed of hero is supposed to fight for and be rewarded by
remains cloudy to his imagination.