JARS: "Nietzsche-Rand Symposium"

In the next issue of the Journal of Ayn Rand Studies, there will be a symposium of sorts discussing the relation between Rand and Nietzsche. During the sixties and seventies, Rand was often accused of being indebted to Nietzsche. One critic went so far as to describe Rand's philosophy as little more than a mixture of Nietzsche and Adam Smith. The motivation behind the linkage of these two literary philosophers is twofold: first, to undermine Rand's claim to originality by suggesting that Rand got all her individualistic notions straight from Nietzsche; and second, to undermine Rand's credibility by associating her with a philosopher who at one time was linked to Hitler and the Nazis.

My own position is that Rand's mature thought is not in any significant way influenced by Nietzsche. Not only is her ideal of man very different from Nietzsche's, but so is her individualism. Nietzsche believed that great men are forged in the crucible of brutal myths (e.g., the myth of eternal recurrence) and harsh adversity ("what doesn't kill us outright makes us stronger"). Rand believed that rational thinking, when zealously followed, lead to the complete integration of emotion and thought, which formed for her the bedrock of human greatness. Nietzsche identified freedom with the battle for freedom; Rand with the attainment of free market individualism. Nietzsche believed in the inevitability of conflict; Rand argued that no conflict was even possible between rational men. Nietzsche equated skepticism with honesty and regarded convictions with immense suspicion; Rand equated even the mildest forms of skepticism with a concerted attempt to undermine man's cognitive faculty. Nietzsche contended that nearly everything men believed were lies, but that some of these lies were psychologically or socially useful; Rand insisted that all lies are bad and that no good can come from believing something that is not true.

This brief sketch should demonstrate that, regardless of the few superficial resemblances between Nietzsche's philosophy and Rand's, they are nevertheless very different philosophers. For those that may still have a few doubts on this score, consider the following. Rand evinces no real understanding or insight into Nietzsche's thought, despite having read at least three of his books. She says of Nietzsche that he advocated sacrificing "others to oneself." Of course, Nietzsche's view on egoism, altruism, and self-sacrifice are actually far more complicated and ambiguous. Consider the following quote from Nietzsche's Anti-Christ:

When the exceptional human being treats the mediocre more tenderly than himself and his peers, this is not mere politeness of the heart—it is simply his duty

Rand's other major complaint against Nietzsche is that he disowned reason in his book The Birth of Tragedy. If Rand had bothered to read the preface of that book, she might have realized that the work is not representative of Nietzsche's mature thought, that he turned against the sort of romantic Wagnerism expressed in its pages and became much more sympathetic to science and even "reason."

Now if Rand didn't even understand Nietzsche, how on earth could she have been influenced by him? Perhaps a case could be made that she was influenced by what she read into Nietzsche; but she was hardly influenced by what Nietzsche actually wrote and meant.

JARS: "Nyquist Contra Rand, Part II" by F. Seddon

Those who wish to read Fred Seddon's reply to my response to his original review of my book are advised to locate a copy of the Fall 2007 edition of the Journal of Ayn Rand Studies and read it for themselves. I will not attempt to summarize it here. I merely wish to respond to one of Seddon's objections. As with his original review of my book, Seddon demonstrates a wanton blindness to the subtleties of my position vis-a-vis Rand and Objectivism. "[Nyquist] thinks Rand and the Objectivists limit logic to deductive logic," Seddon pontificates, "and the triumphantly claims that some modern sciences have proven that 'Most practical knowledge ... is based on generalizations drawn from experience,' that is, on induction." Seddon falls into just the sort of special pleading and word twisting that is more befitting an ambulance chasing lawyer than a philosopher. Instead of trying to understand my point, he only wishes to distort it for his own purposes, so he can evade facing up to the issues I raise. That is what he does with the phrase "generalizations drawn from experience," which he equates not merely with induction, but, by implication, with just the sort of induction advocated by Rand, Peikoff, and Kelley! Never mind that induction, except in a very loose sense of the word that surely would be opposed by Rand and Peikoff, has little to do with generalizations. Induction is a reasoning or inference from the particular to universal. The confusion arises because often the word general is used instead of universal, but it is a mistake to confound the terms general and generalization. The so-called problem of induction would not arise for a mere generalization, because no generalization can be refuted by a single observation. If I say that swans are generally white, that is very different from saying that all swans are white. The observation of a black or a purple swan won't refute the notion that swans are generally white, because generalizations are not universal. They allow for exceptions. But once you grant exceptions, you're no longer in the realm of inductive "logic." Can anyone imagine, for example, Rand or Peikoff advocating the view the laws of nature are only "generally" true, that, in other words, there exist exceptions to them? And so Seddon is merely conflating the term generalization with the term universal and thus basing his whole argument on an ambiguity of language.

Yet this is not the least of it. If Seddon had been attentive to the full context of the passage quoted, particularly what had been written earlier about unconscious knowledge, he should have understood that little if any reasoning takes place when people form the generalizations that make up what I called practical knowledge; that such generalizations are often made intuitively, without conscious direction, from the innermost reaches of the mind's unconscious database. This, in and of itself, makes the whole issue of induction irrelevant. Rand's reason, even when applied to the homely generalizations of everyday life, could be as inductivist as Seddon or anyone else pleases; that still would not allow Rand's empirically unsubstantiated claim that "Reason is man's only means of grasping reality and of acquiring knowledge" to pass muster. If people can gain knowledge intuitively, without direct conscious thinking at all, then the Randian view that only "reason" leads to knowledge becomes unacceptable.

In the greater scheme of things, these technical arguments about the role of reason and "induction" in the Randian epistemology are of little relevance and are only brought up by Seddon to throw sand in our eyes. The real point at issue, which I have raised again and again and which Seddon sedulously evades, is the issue of evidence. Rand made any number of statements about matters of fact concerning human nature, human cognition, and social interaction. Many of these statements are highly controversial, such as man is a being of self-made soul or man's emotional and cognitive mechanisms are blank at birth. Yet Rand provided no evidence for these controversial statements of fact. None whatever! And neither does Seddon. There may be a very good reason for this. Perhaps the lack of evidence stems from the fact that these assertions are not true!

JARS: "Rand and Empirical Responsibility"

The following is my response to Fred Seddon's review of my book Ayn Rand Contra Human Nature. The point of this response was not merely to reply to Seddon's criticisms, but, just as critically, to restate my argument against Rand, which is become even stronger because of new evidence gathered by the sciences of human nature. This essay originally appeared in Fall 2006 edition of The Journal of Ayn Rand Studies, Vol. 8, No. 1, pp. 111-119. Please refer to the JARS issue for a full bibliography.

Rand and Empirical Responsibility

by Greg Nyquist

After going through Fred Seddon’s review of my book, Ayn Rand
Contra Human Nature, I find myself not so much disagreeing
with his points as regarding them as irrelevant. His review more or
less evades what I consider the main point at issue—namely, whether
Rand is right about human nature. If I attempt to answer Seddon’s
specific criticisms, I will merely be caviling about matters I regard as
trivial. However critical I may be of Rand’s Objectivist system, I do
not regard her as a trivial philosopher. Some of the key points of her
philosophy, if true, would entail a major transvaluation of moral,
social, political, and aesthetic values. Rand considered herself a
radical. Let us not underestimate what this means. She challenged
the view of human nature advanced by most of the great thinkers and
poets of human civilization. If she is right and all the thinkers and
poets wrong, the value of most of the great works of mankind’s
literary and philosophical giants, of the dramas of Sophocles and
Shakespeare, the political writings of Machiavelli and Burke, the
novels of Flaubert and Tolstoy, will in some degree be diminished.
Rand’s dislike of Shakespeare, for example, is no mere personal
idiosyncrasy, something that can be brushed aside as inconsequential.
It derives from her vision of human nature. “I refused to believe that
Lear and Macbeth represent what man really is,” she told Barbara
Branden (1986, 45).

With so much at stake, we need to be very careful in how we go
about determining whether Rand’s vision of man accords with reality.
We don’t want to make a mistake and wind up living in ignorance of
the truth about human nature. This is one of those questions that we
need to get right. Those who fail to understand human nature either
expect too much or too little from other people. Political theories
based on false expectations of other people can be dangerous if those
in power are foolish enough to implement them.

Before any attempt can be made to determine whether Rand’s
theory of man accords with reality, we need to get our epistemological
house in order. How should we go about determining whether
Rand’s view of human nature is true? In my book, I suggested that
the best way to settle questions about matters of fact was to consult
the relevant facts. Seddon, however, will have none of this. He
charges me with the great philosophical crime of positivism. But I
have not, nor have I ever been, a positivist. Seddon has merely
imported positivist meanings into some of my words and phrases
where no such meaning was ever intended. All I was trying to suggest
in my book is that controversial assertions about matters of fact, if
they are to be taken seriously, need to be backed with compelling
evidence. I only emphasized the empirical side of knowledge because
that’s precisely where many philosophers, including Rand, fall short.
If I had been criticizing a philosopher who piled fact on top of fact
without rhyme or reason, I would have emphasized the role that
intelligence plays in interpreting and giving meaning to facts. Would
Seddon have then seen fit to accuse me of being a rationalist?

When assessing a controversial assertion about some matter of
fact, the first order of business for the critic is to examine the
evidence presented on behalf of the assertion. In the case of Rand’s
assertions about human nature, this is not so very difficult. Rand
presented no evidence to back up her theory of human nature, so no
evidence needs to be examined. Typical in this respect is her essay
“The Objectivist Ethics.” If you go through this essay, you will find
several bold assertions about human nature. “Man is born with an
emotional mechanism, just as he is born with a cognitive mechanism,”
contended Rand; “but, at birth, both are ‘tabula rasa.’” “Emotions are
the automatic results of man’s value judgments integrated by the
subconscious.” “Emotions are not tools of cognition” (Rand 1964,
28, 27, 29). These are very interesting assertions. It would be nice if
Rand had provided evidence for these assertions so we could evaluate
whether they are true or at least plausible. But Rand gives us nothing.
Not even the tiniest shred or sliver of evidence.

At other points in the essay, Rand introduces moral ideals that
depend on the validity of certain facts. Again she fails to provide
evidence for those facts. Consider some of her remarks about the
virtue of rationality. “Rationality means the . . . acceptance of reason
as one’s only source of knowledge, one’s only judge of values and
one’s only guide to action.” And not only that, but rationality also
“means . . . that all one’s convictions, values, goals, desires and actions
must be based on, derived from, chosen and validated by a process of
thought—as precise and scrupulous a process of thought, directed by
as ruthlessly strict an application of logic, as one’s fullest capacity
permits” (1964, 25–26). This implies not merely that reason is man’s
only source of knowledge; it also gives logic a critical role in the
reasoning process, suggesting that any form of thought that does not
use logic is invalid or cognitively dubious.

Rand’s failure to provide evidence supporting her view of human
nature would not, in itself, indicate that she is wrong. Before any kind
of judgment can be made on the veracity of Rand’s views, the relevant
evidence must be examined. Does there exist any compelling evidence
that stands witness against Rand’s theories?

As a matter of fact, such evidence does exist. Neither the “tabula
rasa” view of human nature advocated by Rand, nor her theory that
emotions are derived from value judgments, would be taken very
seriously by cognitive scientists, neuroscientists, or evolutionary
psychologists working today (Pinker 1997, 31–36, 363–424; Pinker
2002, 38–41; Damasio 1994, 127–64). Even her insistence that
emotions have no legitimate role in cognition would be rejected by
those researchers acquainted with the relevant evidence. “The action
of biological drives, body states, and emotions may be an indispens-
able foundation for rationality,” suggested the neuroscientist Antonio
Damasio (1994, 200), whose research provides compelling evidence
for the role of emotion in the reasoning process (165–222). The
cognitive scientists George Lakoff and Mark Johnson are much less
tentative than Damasio on this issue. “The idea of a pure reason that
can function in the moral domain independent of emotion is
empirically untenable,” they insist (1999, 439).

The most surprising evidence to emerge from these new sciences
of human nature challenges Rand’s contention that reason “is man’s
only means of grasping reality and of acquiring knowledge” ([1971]
1975, 84). If “reason” includes the conscious application of logic (as
Rand would have it), this statement is simply not true. Indeed,
cognitive scientists at the University of Iowa have found that certain
facts of reality can be grasped unconsciously, before any process of
consciously deliberated reason even has a chance to occur.
Yet this is not the least of it. By studying how people actually
think, cognitive scientists have found that thinking based on formal
logic is, for most practical purposes, not terribly useful. The cognitive
scientist Paul E. Johnson, after extensive analysis of how experts in
medicine, engineering, and other skilled professions think when
solving problems related to their specialties, made the following
observation:

I’m continually struck by the fact that the experts in our
studies very seldom engage in formal logical thinking. Most
of what they do is plausible-inferential thinking based on the
recognition of similarities. That kind of thinking calls for a
great deal of experience, as we say, a large data base. If
anybody’s going to be logical in a task, it’s the neophyte,
who’s desperate for some way to generate answers, but the
expert finds logical thinking a pain in the neck and far too
slow. So the medical specialist, for instance, doesn’t do
hypothetical-deductive, step-by-step diagnosis, the way he
was taught in medical school. Instead, by means of his
wealth of experience he recognizes some symptom or
syndrome, he quickly gets an idea, he suspects a possibility,
and he starts right in looking for data that will confirm or
disconfirm his guess. (Hunt 1982, 139–40)

I have quoted this lengthy passage because it goes to the very
heart of my critique of Objectivism. Most practical knowledge (i.e.,
the sort of knowledge used to confront and solve the problems that
we face in everyday life) is based on generalizations drawn from
experience. By making logic one of the essential foundations of
human cognition, Rand, by implication, invalidates the practical
knowledge of everyday life, which depends on logically invalid forms
of reasoning. Most of what we know about human nature, for
example, exists as generalizations from experience. Rand’s tabula rasa
view of human nature, however, rejects any type of generalization that
threatens her over-romanticized conception of man.

As an illustration of this, consider the human tendency toward
self-deception. Literally hundreds of experiments in social psychology
have shown that most people think better of themselves than is
warranted by the facts. “Indeed, most people claim they are above
average in any positive trait you name,” notes the cognitive scientist
Steven Pinker (1997, 422). In other words, most people are incapable
of judging themselves objectively. Worse, they don’t even realize this.
They regard their self-estimations as fair and objective (Pinker 2002,
265).

If most people are and always have been like this, it poses a
serious problem to Rand’s virtue of pride, which requires at the very
least that people be honest about themselves. If there exists a
biological predisposition toward self-deception—and the evidence
strongly suggests that such a predisposition does in fact exist (45–51,
263–66)—then making a virtue of pride may not be such a great idea.
Perhaps it would be far wiser to encourage most people to be humble
as a countermeasure to their tendency toward self-deception and false
pride.

Rand, of course, would never have accepted the notion that
human nature somehow renders pride unattainable for most people.
We know that Rand did not believe in human nature in the traditional
sense of the term; that she believed, instead, that man was a blank
slate who could shape “his soul in the image of his moral ideal, in the
image of . . . the rational being he is born able to create” (1961, 160).
Instead of providing empirical evidence for this rather extraordinary
view, she based it on a logical argument. Free will, she argues, is
“axiomatic” because the opposite view, determinism, is self-contradic-
tory. But if people have free will, they cannot have biological
predispositions or tendencies, Rand concluded, because this would
violate their freedom of choice (169).

The problem with this argument is that it goes in the face of a
growing body of scientific evidence that shows that genes account for
about half of the variation in most psychological traits (Pinker 2002,
48). The tabula rasa view of human nature does not accord with the
best scientific opinion. Nor does it accord with human experience, as
we find it represented in literature. Yet Rand, on the basis of a mere
“logical” rationalization, would turn her back on the empirical
evidence provided by scientific research and by ordinary human
experience.

In my book, I sought to challenge not merely Rand’s vision of
human nature, but also the method of logical rationalization used to
defend it. At one point in his review, Seddon (2003, 366) wonders
“what [I] would have Rand do if not use logic?” I have no problem
with Rand using logic to settle logical problems. I do, however, have
a problem when Rand attempts to settle matters of fact without doing
the necessary empirical research. That is not a very reliable method
of settling controversial issues regarding matters of fact. It is not the
method used by scientists, who seek to supplement their logical
reasonings with a copious fund of empirical research; nor is it the
method primarily used in everyday life, where logically invalid
inferences drawn from accumulated experiences are used much of
time.

The problem with Rand is that she was not an empirically
responsible philosopher. She makes all kinds of controversial
assertions about matters of fact without backing them up with the
relevant empirical evidence. How does Seddon respond to this
criticism? By accusing me (1) of positivism and (2) of equating
sensory observation with knowledge (368–69). But even if I were
guilty of these philosophical sins, that would not get Rand off the
hook. All I have done in my book is compare some of Rand’s most
controversial assertions about matters of fact with the relevant
evidence compiled by cognitive scientists, evolutionary psychologists,
neuroscientists, social psychologists, and sociobiologists. Excellent
research is being done in these fields—research that is helping us
develop an understanding of the human mind based on empirical
science rather than on mere philosophical speculation. Rand’s views
of human nature and cognition don’t altogether square with this
research. Indeed, other than Rand’s insistence on unit economy, most
of her epistemology is either irrelevant and trivial or exaggerated and
untrue. Much the same could be said of her view of human nature,
particularly her tabula rasa view of human psychology. The latest
scientific evidence simply does not support the Randian view on these
issues.

Although Rand’s theories of morality and politics are largely
untouched by recent scientific developments, there are still problems
to be noted. In my book, I argued that her social and political ideals
were unrealizable, and could be dismissed on those grounds alone.
Seddon objects to this line of inquiry, accusing me of “an unwilling-
ness to even consider” normative political theory and of “totally”
misunderstanding “the logic of the social sciences versus the natural
sciences” (371). But the misunderstanding is on Seddon’s part, who
fails to grasp how easily normative political theory degenerates into
advocacy theory and special pleading. Political partisanship, when
combined with the human tendency to self-deception, constitutes an
immense threat to descriptive theory (Hunt 1982, 128–30; Burnham
1963, 287–305). For those of us who prefer truth to ideology and
science to rationalization, one of the techniques to help us avoid the
pitfalls of special pleading and rank partisanship is to zealously
separate descriptive social science from normative theory. But note:
this separation is not motivated by any sort of unwillingness to
“consider” normative social science. We simply don’t want to give
way to the all-too-human temptation to allow our political and social
prejudices from contaminating our scientific work.

Near the end of his review, Seddon expresses puzzlement that I
should consider Rand an important and perhaps even great thinker,
despite regarding her philosophy as a mistake. But here context is
everything. Her philosophy is only a mistake if we assume that Rand
was trying to provide apt description of human nature and the human
condition. On these issues, Objectivism is a failure. It would,
however, be unfair to dismiss Rand and her philosophy on these
grounds alone. If we examine the history of philosophy, it becomes
increasingly evident that most philosophers, as Nietzsche (1968, 202)
pointed out, are “advocates who resent the name.” Philosophy, if we
define it by the example of the great philosophers, is primarily
concerned with providing rationalizations for the idols of human
sentiment. So if, as I contended in my book, Objectivism is largely a
rationalization of Rand’s peculiar vision of man and society, that does
not necessarily make Rand a bad philosopher. After all, isn’t she
merely following in the footsteps of Plato, Hegel, Marx and other
great philosophers, who also rationalized preconceived notions? All
I am seeking to accomplish in my book is to refute Rand’s pretensions
as a realist, as a purveyor of truth and wisdom. She is none of these
things. But as philosophical rationalizer, as casuist par excellence, she
may, for all I know, deserve very high marks.

Although I have little use, personally, for the rationalizing type of
philosophy, I am not so prejudiced as to contend that there is no
merit in it at all. There are, to be sure, some very serious disadvan-
tages to rationalizing a misconceived vision of the world. But there
are some advantages as well that must be weighed in the balance.
When Seddon (2003, 371), for example, suggests that Rand’s “laissez-
faire capitalism is more of a goal to be aimed at than anything that
may actually be,” he has stumbled upon what could prove a rich vein
of analysis. Extend this line of thinking to all of Rand’s thought, and
suddenly Objectivism is transformed into a kind of Sorelian myth.
Rand’s ideals of man and society, as descriptions of truth, may fall
considerably short of the mark, but as myths that inspire individuals
to reach the summit of their potential, there may be real utility in
them.

JARS: "A Beauty Contest for Dichotomies: Browne's Terminological Revolutions"

Roderick T. Long, responding to Gregory Browne's article "The 'Grotesque' Dichotomies Still Unbeautified," contributes a rather technical article that will strike some readers as pedantic and other as niggling. In any case, despite the subtle clarity of much of Long's analysis, to my mind he altogether misses what should be the main point of the whole exercise. At stake in any debate over the analytic-synthetic dichotomy (and that's what the debate really is all about) is the question of what is the best way to determine matters of fact: deductions from first principles (i.e., from "axioms" and the like); or experimental reasonings based on scientifically controlled observations and criticisms from qualified experts (i.e., the scientific method). I contend that the scientific method is far and away the best method of determining matters of fact, and that, when stripped of all the pedantic excesses that Kant placed around it, this is what the analytic-synthetic is striving to assert. And so any attack on this dichotomy, particularly one that goes all the way down to its core truth about the cognitive superiority of "empirical science," is motivated by a desire to give speculative philosophy the same cognitive standing as scientifically tested knowledge and common sense knowledge derived from observation and experience. The Objectivist attack against the analytic-synthetic dichotomy is simply a roundabout way of rationalizing Rand's deplorable empirical irresponsibility. Rand wanted to believe in a theory of human nature that fails to accord with the facts. Since she could not defend her theory on the basis evidence, she chose instead to defend it with the appearance of logic. The argument for the Objectivist version of free will is essentially an argument for Rand's theory of human nature. Bear in mind: she provided no other argument for her view of man--none whatsoever! Her argument is presented as if it were a kind of logical validation on par with empirical evidence. But since this sort of procedure for determining matters of fact is challenged by the analytic-synthetic dichotomy, Rand had Peikoff write his notorious article against it.

Curiously, Browne himself, as noted by Long, complained that Rand and Peikoff have an "excessive aversion" to more geometrico reasoning (i.e., to determining matters of fact through logical or pseudo-logical constructions, rather than through observations, research, and the scientific method). I don't know where he finds this "excessive aversion." If we judge Peikoff and Rand, not merely on what they say, but how they go about their business, it becomes clear that more geometrico reasoning is one of their favorite methods of defending Objectivist dogma.

JARS: "The 'Grotesque' Dichotomies Still Unbeautified"

Gregory Browne, in this essay, replies to criticism of his book Necessary Factual Truth, a work which attempts to combine Misesian apriorism with Randian scholasticism. Rand, argues Browne, essentially pursues the same rationalistic method as the Austrian economist Ludwig von Mises. She can do so "because Objectivists believe that all facts except those resulting from human free will choices are ... 'necessary' and that no truths [can be considered] 'non-factual' [i.e., the analytical-synthetic dichotomy is wrong]." This allows Rand to "do ethics the way she does" while harmonizing Rand's economics "with the Austrian economics of Ludwig von Mises."

As an exegesis of the Peikoff/Rand view of the analytical-synthetic dichotomy, Long's analysis is on target. Objectivists reject this dichotomy because they want to justify the rationalistic methodology whereby matters of fact are determined through the manipulation of logical structures. Despite Rand's and Peikoff's lip-service to empiricism and the scientific method, in their actual philosophical works, they tend toward a kind of scholastic rationalism. Hence the axioms, the definition-mongering, the claim that concept formation is at least in some respects analogous to algebra, and the headlong plunge into the dubious quicksands of Aristotelean essentialism.

Having not read Browne's book, I cannot say how convincing (or unconvincing) his defense of necessary factual truths. However, I would be surprised if any convincing arguments could be brought on behalf of the notion of necessary truth. The best that has been said on this issue was provided by George Santayana: "Tradition is rich in maxims called necessary truths, such as 2+2=4, that space and time are infinitely divisible, that everything has a cause, and that God, or the most real of beings, necessarily exists. Many such propositions may be necessary, by virtue of the definitions given to their terms; many may be true, in that the facts of nature confirm them; and some may be both necessary logically and true materially, but even then the necessity will come from one quarter and the truth from another."

In other words, nature (or, for theistically inclined, God) determines what is true, not logic! Here's the problem with logic: There are an infinite number of logical (i.e., necessary) truths only a small fraction of which are exemplified in reality. So how is anyone is supposed to distinguish between the factually true necessary truths and the factually untrue necessary truths? Answer: the best way to determine between the two is by consulting the relevant facts! Evidence, particularly scientific evidence, is the best way of determining factual truth (though not the only way).

What gives the sort of apriori or scholastic rationalism advocated by Rand and Mises the aura of plausibility is that in some circumstances, matters of facts are so complicated that they cannot be determined by the usual logico-experimental methods of science. This is where logical speculation, as long is it is controlled by a strong sense of the elemental facts, can prove useful. Hence the need for the sort of economic reasoning advocated by Mises and Frank Knight, among others. However, we must be aware of the important limitations of this method. Knight calls deductive economic reasoning "the method of successive approximations" and insists that "without empirical correction to real situations" economists are likely to run into trouble.

JARS: "Ayn Rand as Literary Mentor"

Kirsti Minsaas provides a short review of Erika Holzer's Ayn Rand: My Fiction Writing Teacher. In the course of her review, Minsaas indulges in a short discussion of Holzer's and Rand's "shared interest in larger-than-life heroes." Minsaas, as far as I can tell, shares Holzer's perspective about the "objective" need for "romantic heroes," and even goes so far as to describe the type of hero projected in Rand's novels as "sophisticated." So here we have three women--Rand, Holzer, and Minsaas--all expressing sympathy for "larger-than-life" heroes of the Randian variety. Could it be that Randian heroism is a product of peculiar sort of female sentimentalism? I personally don't see anything heroic in Rand's heroes. They are not even gentlemen, as no gentlemen would go around raping women (even when the women want it), dynamiting newly completed housing projects, engaging in piracy and petulant economic sabotage, and spouting self-righteous ideological rhetoric. The Randian hero is an ideologue par excellence, which is another way of saying that he is a man without any real sense of honor.

Minsaas' review also touches upon an even less agreeable subject: Rand's "sense of life" construct, which constitutes one of Rand's very worst theories. Great literature seeks to illuminate the perplexities of the human condition. In the pursuit of this end, literature must sometimes grapple with the tragic side of existence--that is to say, it must cover such things as sickness, pain, infidelity, death, and evil. Rand's excessively secular and rationalist view of life caused her to shrink from such subjects, because her philosophy had no answers to the problems they raised. So she created an elaborate rationalization in order to dismiss novels that raised just the sort of difficult issues which demonstrate the poverty of her philosophy. She argued that the very fact that an author chooses a tragical subject is proof positive that he considers the subject of paramount importance. If an author like Tolstoy writes a novella about death (e.g., The Death of Ivan Illyich), this proves that Tolstoy believes that death is the most significant thing of all, more significant, even then life, which, Rand would argue, proves that Tolstoy has a "malevolent sense of life." But here Rand, as usual, misses the point altogether. The The Death of Ivan Illyich is not a glorification of death, but merely a mediation about death, giving Tolstoy's thoughts about the subject. Whether death is "metaphysically significant" or not, it's clearly an important subject; so why shouldn't a novelist, especially one as great as Tolstoy, provide his take on it? By dismissing the lion's share of great literature as "malevolent," Rand merely encourages her followers to remain ignorant of the some of the best that has been said and thought about the great issues confronting human beings.

JARS: "Putting Humans First?"

David Graham and Nathan Nobis review Tibor Machan's treatise Putting Human's First: Why We Are Nature's Favorite, which is neo-Objectivist attack on the animal right's crowd. The review is somewhat critical. The authors are not impressed by Machan's arguments and they go so far as to accuse Machan of taking an ambiguous stance. At one point in his treatise, Machan writes:

"Should there ... be laws against certain kinds of cruelty to animals? This is not something I am willing to address fully here. Suffice it to say that, for my part, I would not necessarily take exception if someone were to rescue an animal being treated with cruelty, even if this amounted to invading someone's private property. If one spotted a neighbor torturing a cat, albeit on his own private property, one could well be morally remiss in failing to invade the place and rescue the animal."

This is a curious statement coming from someone arguing against animal rights from an Objectivist standpoint. It suggests that Machan feels a certain ambivalence about the subject. It further suggests conceptual poverty of Objectivist views on morality, politics, and justice. In the real world, things aren't so simple as the Objectivist would like them to be. Normal decent human beings are appalled by anyone who receives pleasure from torturing animals. To frame the whole issue in terms of human beings, who are the only creatures entitled to rights and may do anything with their property, and animals who have no rights and are the merely the property which human beings can do anything with, clearly misses the full reality of the issue.

The illustrate the inadequacy of the Objectivist view, take the recent case of two brothers who were sentenced ten years for torturing a puppy. From an Objectivist standpoint, this sentence is an act of injustice. Animals have no rights and while it may be immoral to torture them it should not be illegal. Yet this viewpoint lacks basic common sense. The fact is that any individual who is so destitute of common humanity that he takes pleasure in torturing animals poses a threat to society. Such an individual simply cannot be trusted. Who is to say that in the future he won't take pleasure in torturing human beings as well? Hence there is a kind of justice, or at least a kind of wisdom, in removing him from society.

JARS: "Essays on Ayn Rand's Fiction"

In this article, Susan L. Brown reviews two collections of essays from ARI, the first collecting essays about Rand's novel Anthem, the second collecting essays about We the Living. Although Ms. Brown's reviews are largely positive in tone, she does see fit to complain of "the failure of its authors to cite the work of other scholars who have dealt with some of the issues involved here, and their dogged persistence in conveying the notion that Ayn Rand ... never really change her mind about anything." I suspect that this latter charge goes to the heart of Rand's psychopathology. When Rand revised We the Living, she claimed that she only made "editorial-line changes." Well, that simply isn't the case. Changes were made in the views expressed in the novel. The 1936 version lacked the ideal-man view of her later novels; it has a somewhat ambivalent attitude toward capitalism; and it contained several passages expressing the Nietzschean view that "character is fate" and that people are born to be what they are.

Rand was clearly embarrassed by these views she held earlier in her development and went out of her way to deny that she had ever held them -- despite the evidence to the contrary. But why should it matter whether she held somewhat different views earlier in her career? There is nothing wrong about changing one's mind. Those of us who are critics of Rand might think she changed for the worse; but her admirers could easily embrace the opposite view. Why, then, should both Rand and her apologists shrink from admitting that she changed her mind? It appears that Rand felt there was something shameful in changing one's mind, as if it were immensely degrading and humiliating. Does this, then, explain her intemperate hostility to the notion that all knowledge is ultimately conjectural and that knowledge is largely the product of trial and error and ceaseless self-criticism? Does it explain her uncompromising dogmatism and her ill-fated, limping theory of "contextual certainty"?

JARS: Degutis' "Deconstructing Postmodern Xenophelia"

The title of Degutis' essay is a mouthful, to be sure, but it is an excellent piece -- quite the best in the entire issue Fall 2006 issue of JARS. Degultis' is a Lithuanian classical liberal who understands all too well the threat posed by leftist sentiments to Western Civilization. He argues that "the agenda [of leftism] is counterproductive, it's 'progressive' goals are retrogressive, and its implementation would result in the destruction of the West." Degultis proceeds with a subtle, nuanced analysis of the main ideas of leftist thought -- an analysis that is devastating precisely because it avoids the sort of self-serving, facile distortions and crude hyperbole that are the stock and trade of the denizens of ARI. The only question one might have about Degutis' essay is, What does it have to do with Rand? It never mentions Rand, nor does it avail itself of any of Rand's singular conceptual devices. So how should we account for its inclusion in JARS? Perhaps it is there because it expresses opposition to the radical left, which Rand also vehemently -- though, unfortunately, not as intelligently -- opposed as well.

Whatever may be the reason, I doubt that Rand herself would have approved of it, because it makes distinctions which would have horrified her objectivist proprieties. Hence, we find Degutis distinguishing between Christian altruism, which confines itself to the sphere of voluntary relations, with secular altruism, which "is open and limitless, subsuming under its cover all the wretched of the earth." I cannot imagine Rand would have been pleased by the suggestion that some forms of altruism may not after all be evil.

JARS: Seddon's "Rand and Rescher on Truth"

Fred Seddon once again reinterprets Rand in light of philosophers Rand wouldn't have approved of. The philosopher this time is Nicholas Rescher, often regarded as kind of "pragmatic idealist." Rescher wrote about what he regarded as the four major theories of truth: correspondence, coherence, intuitionistic and pragmatic. Correspondence means agreement with facts; coherence means logical agreement where the truthfulness of a proposition is judged by its implicit coherence with other (presumably true) propositions; intuitionistic truths are either those given in consciousness (i.e., "primative" datum) or primative inferences from these datum (Seddon equates them with Rand's self-evident truths); and pragmatic means that a theory has acceptable practical consequences. Seddon's thesis is that "Rand's theory of truth incorporates all four aspects of Rescher's"

Commentary: Seddon is rights about Rand, but some of the examples he gives are wrong. For example, placing Rand's self-evident truths under the intutitionistic category (I would argue that they go under the coherence category). Of course, the reason for Seddon's mistake here is that what he describes as the intuitionistic theory is a false theory: primitative datum cannot be regarded as making up a theory of truth, if for no other reason than that no primative datum can ever be regarded as knowledge. A primitative datum, stripped of all the presuppositions of intelligence, would provide us with little more than the solipsism of the present moment. For it is these presuppositions that give meaning to the primitative datum in the first place; which leads to my second criticism: namely, that claims of truth involve elements of both correspondence and coherence, and also of a tacit intuitive component (different from Rescher's primitive-datum intuitive), and finally of a pragmatic (or rather experimental) aspect. Does Rand accept the four components of truth of this revised theory? Up to a point, she does: she obviously supports the correspondence, coherence and pragmatic components (for the reasons Seddon gives, among others); and she also supports, implicitly at least, a tacit-knowledge intuitionist component of sorts (i.e., her "automatic knowledge), though her version of the theory is completely inadequate, as she is holds a very deep prejudice against both tacit knowledge and what is commonly refered to as "intuition." What Rand doesn't accept is that truth claims must inevitably use all four of these elements, especially the intuitionist. She would claim that truth doesn't require the tacit-intuitionist element, that tacit presuppositions and tacit conjectures are not necessary to arrive at truth.

JARS: Peirce's & Rand's Metaphysics

The Fall issue of JARS features a curious article entitled "Some Convergences and Divergences in the Realism of Charles Peirce and Ayn Rand." Peirce is the greatest of all American born philosophers: an extraordinarily subtle and penetrating philosopher whose complex cerebrations often take a visionary turn. Rand, who, along with William James, is the most widely read American philosopher, is also a "vision" philosopher, though her genius manifests itself in the ability to put across a vision and make it live in the hearts of her sympathetic readers rather than in creating a convincing philosophic system. The JARS article, by Marc Champagne, is a bit too subtle to get into here. Summarizing it in my own philosophic language, I would say that the greatest common denominator between Peirce and Rand is they both involved in a revolt against epistemological dualism: that is, neither of them are very comfortable with the notion that our knowledge of the world is mediated through the veil of ideas, or that it is useful to distinguish between essence and existence, between World 1 (physical reality) and World 3 (platonic Ideas or essences) objects. Where they differ, is in their strategies for evading the dualistic implications of realism. Rand's approach is largely verbal: she keeps insisting on the objectivity of concepts (as if such matters could be settled by mere assertion!) and drops hints about the horrors of Cartesian representationalism, particularly as it manifests itself in Kant's confused separation of phenomena and noumena. Peirce, a much more intellectually responsible philosopher, attempts to advance some very sophisticated metaphysical arguments to extricate himself from epistemological dualism. In the end, however, having denied the fundamental difference between reality and an individual's experience of reality, he winds up adopting something very close to idealism: he even goes so far as to suggest that "all is signs"--i.e., only World 3 objects exist.

Why are both these philosophers so down on epistemological dualism? I suspect that it derives from the fact that both Rand and Peirce believe in speculative metaphysics--i.e., they both hold that matters of fact can be determined by logical constructions. But once thoughts are distinguished from the existents in reality, speculative metaphysics, particularly of the rigorously logical variety, becomes a far less plausible undertaking. The world of Ideas (Popper's World 3 and Santayana's realm of essence) is infinite; and therefore, the number of logical combinations (or arguments) is also infinite. But only a small fraction of those infinite combinations will likely ever be found to describe something manifested in the world of matter (Popper's World 1), which means such manifestations are fortutious: there is nothing necessary about them. To find out whether a given logical combination corresponds with reality, one must look to the facts of the matter.

JARS: "Demystifying Emotion"

The Fall 2006 Journal of Ayn Rand Studies commences with an article entitled "Demystifying Emotion: Introducing the Affect Theory of Silvan Tomkins to Objectivists" by Steven Shmurak. The article begins by acknowledging that Rand's view of emotions "fails to make sense o fthe totality of our emotional lives." Shmurak then introduces Tomkins' theory as possible alternative. Although he doesn't say so outright, Shmurak appears to be suggesting that if we were to "update" Rand's theory of emotions by replacing it with Tomkins' that would serve to strengthen the Objectivist position. But this suggestion assumes that the primary aim of Rand's theory is to provide a realistic explanation of human emotions. What if this assumption is false? What if the primary aim of Rand's theory is simply to prove that emotions can be entirely subjected to "reason"? After all, Rand's political, social, and psychological ideals would all be seriously jeopardized if emotions could not be entirely controlled by "reason." Hence my suspicion that Rand's theory of emotion is a little more than a formalized rationalization of a much deeper pathology in Rand--namely, her desire to subject every aspect of human existence to conscious "reasoned" thought, so that nothing is ever left to chance and the human being can be regarded as responsible for everything about himself.

This viewpoint, which Rand clung to with passionate obstinacy, is the fountainhead of nearly everything that is wrong with Rand's philosophy. It amounts to a kind of idealism. Just as ordinary idealists believe that their minds create and populate the natural world, so Rand, in effect, believes that the mind creates the psychological world--man's very self--out of its own ideas (or "basic premises").

Journal of Ayn Rand Studies - Fall 2006

The Fall edition of Chris Sciabarra's "Journal of Ayn Rand Studies" has finally been published. It contains, among other interesting articles, my reply to Seddon's critique of ARCHN, wherein I, in effect, restate the case against Rand. Using evidence compiled by cognitive scientists, neuroscientists, and evolutionary psychologists, I challenge not merely Rand's view of man, but also her epistemology, particularly her overestimation of the role of logic in efficacious thinking. Seddon responds in turn, offering a surprisingly feeble rebutal.

In the next few weeks I will offer brief commentary on some of these articles, particularly as the relate to important issues of Randian criticism.