Objectivism & History, Part 11

Heresy. Heresy is a concept generally related to religion. It refers to views that flout doctrinal orthodoxy. Such ideas are often considered dangerous, evil, and thoroughly wicked. They must be denounced and perhaps even put down by force. In Objectivism, the notion of heresy finds a secular equivalent in the view that most of the ideas opposed by Randian orthodoxy are evil. Since ideas determine the course of history, ideas leading to bad or evil outcomes are considered especially “horrendous.”

This view is used, among other things, to justify Rand’s anger. “Ayn Rand not infrequently became angry at me over some philosophical statement I made that seemed to ally me with one of the intellectual movements she was fighting,” confessed Leonard Peikoff in his short memoir “My Thirty Years with Ayn Rand.” ”Since her [Rand’s] mind immediately integrated a remark to the fundamentals it presupposes, she would project at once, almost automatically, the full, horrendous meaning of what I had uttered, and then she would be shocked at me.”

This “justification” of Rand’s anger is important, because Rand’s anger is a weapon Rand used to keep her disciples in line. That it was taken to absurd lengths can be heard in question and answer periods in which Rand participated. Anyone who ventured to submit any question in the least challenging would go out of his way to insist he did not advocate any of the philosophical implications of the challenge. Even then, Rand would sometimes go ballistic and attack the questioner. Ludwig von Mises and his wife were shocked at Rand’s conduct toward questioners when they attended a lecture in the early sixties.

That this notion of denouncing people, not merely for their views, but especially for the implications of their views, is highly mischievous can easily be established by simply examining some of the implications of the Objectivist philosophy of history. If the terrible evil of history finds its roots, not in the psychology of evil men, but in ideas, then why should evil ideas be tolerated? Why shouldn’t they be put down by force?

In his essay “Philosophy and Psychology in History,” Peikoff wrote:

Millions, billions of men may be oblivious to the mind, they may be ignorant of philosophy, they may be contemptuous of abstractions. But, knowingly or not, they are shaped ultimately by the abstractions of a small handful. It is far to weak, therefore, to say the pen is mightier than the sword. The pen, and only a very few pens, create all the swords and the swordsmen, and set the cause of their battles and the final outcome.

Now if the pen is so very mighty, shouldn’t it be regulated? If somebody is hatching “horrendous” philosophical premises and letting them loose against an unsuspecting world, shouldn’t that person be stopped? While Objectivism strongly opposes state supported censorship, the implications of their philosophy of history could easily be used to support such censorship. And indeed, that has always been the main argument for censoring thought. Since some thoughts are heretical and heresy is “dangerous,” the authorities have to put it down by force.

The sociologist Vilfredo Pareto took a different view of the matter. He believed that men were motivated by psychological states, not by ideas. Ideas merely rationalized those psychological states. From this point of view, Pareto concluded that all censorship was futile, because it attacked rationalizations, rather than what was being rationalized. If one rationalization were suppressed by the state, that was of little consequence, because there were many more that could be brought forward to rationalize the very same human sentiments and interests defended in the suppressed rationalization.

Objectivism & History, Part 10

History, Objectivism, and Sarah Palin. In the last week we have seen the meteoric rise of Alaska governor Sarah Palin within the GOP and among conservatives. If she can survive the next two months with her reputation intact, she could eventually become the most powerful figure in the Republican Party. She would, in that case, either be McCain’s heir apparent (assuming McCain wins in November) or the frontrunner for the Republican nomination in 2012. How are Objectivists going to view this woman? On the one hand, she is precisely the strong, tough, savvy, good-looking type of female celebrated in Rand’s novels. On the other hand, she may be the most religious candidate on a Presidential ticket this side of William Jennings Bryan. Her emergence is bound to stir up some conflicted feelings within the Objectivist fold—as can be gathered by a cursory glance at the Objectivst blogosphere.
Back in February, we find one neo-Objectivist noting: “Aside from [Palin’s] obvious vice of religion, [she] has all the makings of a splendid vice president. Don't you think?” After McCain selected her late in August, several commentators made it clear they regarded Palin’s selection as an “excellent choice.” Other Objectivist posters are more conflicted. A poster calling himself “Myrhaf” begins by praising Palin’s convention speech and attacking Obama’s inept and dishonest criticism of McCain’s running mate. He almost sounds enthusiastic, until he remembers Palin’s religiosity, which brings him back to earth. He has seen Palin’s controversial speech given before an Assembly of God congregation, and is disturbed by Palin’s “insane mystical ideas.” I came away with a different impression from Palin’s performance in front of her hometown church. Rather than disturbed, I was reassured: because if you look beyond some of Palin’s sentimentalized Pentecostal rhetoric, you will find a surprisingly strong statement in support of the separation of church and state. She in effect told the congregation that, because she was governor, she could not take part in their work to win hearts and minds for Christ. That was the congregation’s job. Her job was to run the state. This suggests that Palin’s religiosity should not be regarded as a threat or a danger. Examining Palin’s record as public official only serves to affirm this judgment. Very little of what she has done publicly has any real connection to her religious convictions. What, after all, does opening Alaska to more energy development have to do with Pentecostal theology? Or lowering taxes? Or suing the Federal government over the decision to make the polar bear an endangered species? Human beings are not determined by their religious beliefs. A person can be religious and still be rational in other domains of experience.

Myrhaf concludes with the following observation: “Palin said in her speech that she would challenge the status quo, but she can't do it. She will fail because she has no intellectual ammunition.” Now this statement relates directly to the subject I’ve been discussing in recent weeks: the Objectivist philosophy of history. “Intellectual ammunition” is important to the Objectivist because he believe that “ideas” determines what happens. Yet it should be clear from Palin’s career that this isn’t altogether true; that what is important is not what people say or pretend to believe, but what they actually do. Although Palin is hardly perfect and, like any politician, has committed mistakes and blunders throughout her political career, she still, despite her obvious flaws, has done a decent job as governor of Alaska. In just a week’s time, she has excited the Republican base more than any candidate since Ronald Reagan. What does “intellectual ammunition” have to do with any of the things she has accomplished? It’s not intellectual ammunition that gets a politician elected or allows them to get things done in government. Politics is about coalition building and out-maneuvering your opponent. So-called “intellectual ammunition” has little to do with it. A politician does not gather support by winning debates or changing people’s mind. In 2000, polls suggested that Bush “won” his debates with Al Gore. Yet Bush clearly did not make a better case for his position in those debates. Not at all: he won because he came off as more "personable." So much for intellectual ammunition!

The Objectivist philosophy of history causes Rand’s followers to misread political and social reality. They end up placing to much stress on what politicians say and not enough on what they do. Even worse, because they have no appreciation or understanding for the institutional constraints that politicians must act under, they are incapable of realistically assessing individual politicians or grasping who should be supported and who should be opposed.

Objectivism & History, Part 9

The force of logic Sometimes the most curious doctrines in Objectivism are not those that are explicitly formulated but rather those that are merely hinted at or presupposed by explicit convictions. One such presupposition is the very odd view that neither people nor societies can long hold contradictory beliefs. Consider this passage from Rand’s “For the New Intellectual”:

From her start, America was torn by the clash of her political system with the altruist morality. Capitalism and altruism are incompatible; they are philosophical opposites; they cannot co-exist in the same man or in the same society.

Rand believed that people cannot long hold beliefs that contradict their fundamental premises. Such contradictions will eventually be resolved in favor of the more “fundamental” belief. So if an individual believes in altruism and capitalism, his belief in altruism will undermine his belief in capitalism because (1) altruism and capitalism contradict each other and (2) altruism is more “fundamental” than capitalism.

Here we find Rand once again misrepresenting human nature. There is no evidence that the majority of human beings have any great concern for whether they hold contradictory beliefs. As human experience repeatedly testifies, most human beings have a weak grasp of logic and are blissfully ignorant of the many contradictions floating about in their brains. The sociologist Vilfredo Pareto dedicated a 250,000 word volume to analyzing what he called “non-logical” action, which is to say, action based on contradictory or non-logical notions. “Pareto not only shows that non-logical conduct is predominant,” noted James Burnham; “his crucial point is that the conduct which has a bearing on social and political structure, on what he calls the ‘social equilibrium,’ is above all non-logical. What happens to society, whether it progresses or decays, is free or despotic, happy or miserable, poor or prosperous, is only to the slightest degree influenced by the deliberate, rational purposes held by human beings.” Pareto, therefore, comes to almost the exact opposite conclusion from Rand. Human beings, he notes, are frequently destitute of logic. And he gives hundreds of examples of non-logical actions in his treatise Mind and Society.

But even if Pareto turned out to be wrong on this issue, Rand and her disciples would still not be in the clear; for they would still have to reckon with the evidence of cognitive science, which pretty much settles the issue. Cognitive scientists have conducted a great many experiments examining the degree to which human beings are logical, and they have found that nearly all human beings not only lack any natural facility for logic, but that, in the normal business of life, they make frequent use of illogical inferences to get things done. As Morton Hunt puts it:

[F]ormal logic is not a good description of how our minds usually work. Logic tells us how we should reason when we are trying to reason logically, but it does not tell us how to think about reality as we encounter it most of the time.…

Logic enables us to judge the validity of our own deductive reasoning, but much of the time we need to reason non-deductively — either inductively, or in terms of likelihoods, or of causes and effects, none of which fits within the rules of formal logic. The archetype of everyday realistic reasoning might be something like this: This object (or situation) reminds me a lot of another that I experienced before, so probably I can expect much to be true of this one that was true of that one. Such reasoning is natural and utilitarian — but logically invalid....

If there still remain doubts on this score, simply attend more closely to the beliefs of other human beings. If one observes the human animal, one will find an astonishing mixture of contradictory notions and clashing ideas. I have recently been listening David McCullough’s The Great Bridge, in which one finds a biographical portrait John Augustus Roebling, the engineer who designed and built the Brooklyn Bridge. Although Roebling was a man of science and a great engineer, this did not prevent him from wallowing in non-logical and empirically dubious activities. In his youth, he studied philosophy under the exquisitely preposterous Hegel. In later years, he dabbled in spiritualism and hydropathy. Hegel’s arch-enemy, the philosopher Arthur Schopenhauer advocated quietism and asceticism, but he didn’t practice what he preached. He declared he was incapable of practicing his philosophy, even though he insisted that his philosophy was right. I’ve talked to several Obama supporters in the last few months who don’t seem to agree with many of Obama’s positions. Yet when this is pointed out to them, they are unphazed. They simply don’t care whether a contradiction exists between the policies the favor and the candidate they support.

Examples of this sort could be multiplied many many times. Some people—perhaps even most people—don’t really care too much about either logic or consistency, particularly about matters that are remote to their particular sphere of practical action. Rand and her disciples seem to admit of this non-logical aspect of human belief when they talk of people with “mixed” premises. But they don’t seem to realize that the very fact that people can hold mixed premises contradicts Rand’s conviction that capitalism and altruism cannot exist the same person because the two are contradictory.

Yet this is not the only contradiction involved in insisting that contradictions in the human psyche will tend to be resolved in favor of the more “fundamental” belief. Rand and Peikoff both contend that epistemological ideas are more fundamental than ethical and political ideas. This, however, is a problematic position. What if an individual were to embrace epistemological convictions that deny the importance or “validity” of logic? If an individual doesn’t believe in logic, wouldn’t this mean that there would exist no force or tendency in his mind to resolve contradictions between his ethical and political beliefs? After all, why should such contradictions matter to someone who doesn’t give a fig for logic? Moreover, since Rand did not belief that people had innate tendencies, she can hardly presuppose the existence of an innate tendency to resolve contradictions in favor of the more fundamental view. Since people have free will, they should be able to hold as many contradictory beliefs as they damn please? The Objectivist supposition that contradictory beliefs tend toward a resolution in favor of the more fundamental premise can therefore be dismissed as a mere prejudice, without basis in either logic or fact.

Anvilicious!

TV Tropes, the site dedicated to popular culture cliches, takes a hilarious look at the various cliches populating "Atlas Shrugged". Particularly good are "Nice Job Breaking It, Hero", the "Author Filibuster", and the spot-on neologism for Rand's writing style, "Anvilicious."

Anvilicious: A portmanteau of anvil and either delicious or malicious, depending on the usage, anvilicious describes a writer's and/or director's use of an artistic element, be it line of dialogue, visual motif, or plot point, to so obviously or unsubtly convey a particular message that they may as well etch it onto an anvil and drop it on your head. Frequently, the element becomes anvilicious through unnecessary repetition, but true masters can achieve anviliciousness with a single stroke

.

(Hat tip to The Atheist Experience)

Objectivism & History, Part 8

Kant contra Rand There appear to be many orthodox Objectivists still in denial about Kant’s influence on history. Despite never having read Kant or the philosophers Kant influenced, they are nevertheless certain that Kant’s influence is precisely as Rand limned it. This prejudice can easily be refuted by quoting any non-controversial account of Kant. Take, as an example, what Karl Popper writes about Kant in the Open Society:

Kant, in his Critique of Pure Reason, asserted under the influence of Hume that pure speculation or reason, whenever it ventures into a field in which it cannot possibly be checked by experience, is liable to get involved in contradictions or ‘antinomies’ and to produce what he unambiguously described as ‘mere fancies’; ‘nonsense’; ‘illusions’; ‘a sterile dogmatism’; and ‘a superficial pretension to the knowledge of everything’. He tried to show that to every metaphysical assertion or thesis, concerning for example the beginning of the world in time, or the existence of God, there can be contrasted a counter-assertion or antithesis; and both, he held, may proceed from the same assumptions, and can be proved with an equal degree of ‘evidence’. In other words, when leaving the field of experience, our speculation can have no scientific status, since to every argument there must be an equally valid counter-argument. Kant’s intention was to stop once and forever the ‘accursed fertility’ of the scribblers on metaphysics.

Popper’s summation of Kant’s Critique is in line with the mainstream view. Kant’s attack on “pure reason” was not meant as an attack on knowledge as such, but only on speculative knowledge, i.e., claims of knowledge about matters of fact that aren’t backed by evidence. As Thomas Henry Huxley put it:

The aim of the Kritik der reinen Verunft is essentially the same as that of the Treatise of Human Nature, by which, indeed, Kant was led to develop that “critical philosophy” with which his name and fame are indissolubly bound up: and, if the details of Kant’s criticism differ from those of Hume, they coincide with them in their main result, which is the limitation of all knowledge of reality to the world of phenomena revealed to us by experience.

Kant’s basic position can be summed up from the famous aphorism from the preface of the second edition of The Critique of Pure Reason: “Concepts without percepts are empty; percepts without concepts are blind.” Whatever errors and mistakes Kant may have committed in explicating and developing this seminal insight, the principle itself remains sound. Nor would even Rand necessarily have disagreed with it, even if she might have quibbled about the terms in which the principle is expressed.

An anonymous commentator in an earlier post insisted “that Kant's philosophy and Objectivism are diametrically opposed.” This is a bit of exaggeration. Even in the field of ethics, where the differences between Kant and Rand are the most striking, there are still similarities (e.g., they are both absolutists, and they both believe in “autonomy”). So would Rand have necessarily disagreed with Kant’s view that “when leaving the field of experience, our speculation can have no scientific status”?

Orthodox Objectivists (including Rand herself) have always been vague on this point. While Rand and her disciples will occasionally stress the importance of keeping one’s concepts in touch with reality and avoiding what they call “floating abstractions,” if we judge Objectivists by how they act rather than on what they say it becomes clear that they really are quite attached to the type of speculative reason that Kant (and Hume) criticizes. Rarely do Rand or Peikoff provide detailed, convincing evidence for their numerous controversial assertions. If they deign to advance any kind of argument at all, it is nearly always of a wantonly speculative and, ipso facto verbalistic nature. Rand’s entire theory of human nature is merely a speculative leap from her equally speculative defense of free will! One can hardly get more rationalistic and non-empirical than that!

To the extent that there is real difference between Rand and Kant on this issue “pure” reason, it is Kant, not Rand, that is on the side of science, truth and realism. The world is weary of philosophers who seek to determine matters of fact with logical, rhetorical, or moral constructions. The sort of “reason” that Objectivists actually practice (as opposed to vague, amorphous “reason” they theorize about and provide genuflect-like homage to) is merely a futile exercise in generating concepts without percepts. Kant and Hume were right to criticize such an approach. To the extent that this aspect of their philosophy has been influential, it has been influential for the better. Objectivism, on the other hand, would, if it exercised any influence at all on this issue, would constitute a step backwards for the human intellect.

Objectivism & History, Part 7

Who is this guy Mansel? Among academics, one of the most controversial aspects of orthodox Objectivism is its interpretation of modern philosophy. Rand’s views on Hume, Kant, Hegel, William James, Dewey, Russell, et al. As Gary Merrill puts it:

These sorts of things [i.e., Rand’s sweeping, unsubstantiated generalizations] would not be so bad, though they are bad, were it not for the fact that she so frequently gets things wrong. There is the business above concerning Russell [i.e., of Russell allegedly “kinda” knowing the meaning of the concept of number]. There is the claim (p. 59) that “modern philosophers declare that axioms are a matter of arbitrary choice.” (no substantiation or reference is provided). There is the claim (p. 52) that “It is Aristotle who identified the fact that only concretes exist”. (Any of you Aristotle scholars want to wade in here with a brief account of particulars vs. concretes?) And none of this comes with even a hint of specific attribution that would allow a reader to evaluate it. The closest she gets is along the lines of (p. 60) “For example, see the works of Kant and Hegel.” Now that really narrows it down!

Rand’s interpretation of Kant is perhaps the most controversial of all. Again, to quote Merrill:

Rand mentions Kant repeatedly (he seems to be the guy she loves to hate), but there is absolutely nothing that is specific. She never quotes Kant directly, but when she apparently feels a need to justify her view of Kant she instead quotes from a book published in 1873 by Henry Mansel whom she describes as “a Kantian”. Again, I am not an expert on Kant, but who is this guy Mansel? I can find him mentioned in none of the histories of philosophy I have, and he is not mentioned in the fairly extensive bibliography on Kant in Lewis Beck’s 18th-Century Philosophy. So direct reference to Kant is replaced by reference to “a Kantian” (and a very obscure one at that). Why do this? Why not show how Kant himself held the position that is being attacked? There is no justification for this sort of thing. Again, poor scholarship. (I do not, by the way, believe that even the quote from Mansel supports Rand’s view of Kant. But I will not argue that point now.)

Even neo-Objectivists such as George Walsh and Fred Seddon have challenged Rand’s take on Kant. And one would be hard pressed to find any Kantian scholars of note who would agree with Rand’s assessment. There seems to be little room for doubt on this question: Rand got Kant wrong. What affect does this have on the Randian philosophy of history?

An important component of the Objectivist philosophy of history is Rand’s take on modern philosophy. Kant and the moderns have to be bad for the whole Randian eschatology to make any of sense. So if Rand is wrong about Kant and other modern philosophers, this provides us one additional reason to reject the Objectivist philosophy of history as mere a tissue of distortions and arrogant ignorance.

Yet this is not all. Even if Rand’s interpretation of Kant and other modern philosophers turned out to be correct, her philosophy of history would still have serious problems. Because even if Rand’s interpretation were correct, the fact that nearly everyone else has interpreted Kant differently it itself would constitute an insurmountable objection. Central to the Objectivist philosophy of history is the notion that Kant’s philosophy as interpreted by Rand exercised a pernicious influence on Western Civilization. But if most philosophers and intellectuals did not interpret Kant the way Rand did, then it would impossible for Kant to have the kind of influence that Objectivists ascribe to him.

The same line of reasoning can be extended to any of other controversial interpretations of philosophy offered by Rand and her orthodox disciples. If Rand is wrong in her interpretation, then the philosopher in question could not possibly have exercised the influence Rand ascribes to him; and if Rand is right in her interpretation and nearly everyone else wrong, then the philosopher’s influence differs from his actual philosophy. Either way, it demonstrates the poverty of the Objectivist philosophy of history. If an individual is in fact influenced by a specific philosopher, it is not the philosophy per se which exercises the influence, but the individual’s interpretation of that philosophy. If individuals routinely misinterpret a philosophy, it will be the prevailing misinterpretations, not the actual intended philosophy, that is critical in assessing questions of influence.

Objectivism & History, Part 6

Heterogeneity of human nature. Rand, as this blog has pointed out on countless occasions, rejected the traditional view of human nature. In his lecture “Philosophy and Psychology in History,” Peikoff encapsulates Objectivism’s two main arguments against human nature in two sentences:

1. “A given individual might have any kind of psychology in any era, because men have free will.”

2. “You cannot say that any specific psychology emanates from human nature as such, because not everyone has the same psychology.”

I’ve discussed the first argument, the argument from free will, before. Rand believed free will extended all the way to a person’s character, so that, ultimately, the individual could choose his own personality. Therefore, the traditional view of human nature, which insists on the reality of innate tendencies of character which manifest themselves throughout human history, is rejected on the grounds that such a view violates the “axiomatic” principle of free will. (Other rationalizations are also brought forth against it, such as the view that innate tendencies cannot exist because that would be tantamount to asserting the existence of “innate ideas.”)

The second argument assumes that human nature is homogeneous: that is to say, any trait that can properly be ascribed to the concept of human nature must be applicable to all human beings. If trait is applicable to only some human beings, it cannot be considered a part of human nature.

This argument, when applied to the interpretation of history, leads to yet another argument that could easily be used to rationalize the Objectivist philosophy of history. It goes as follows: History cannot be explained by human nature, because human nature is uniform; and so if human nature were the primary cause of history, historical change would become inexplicable.

What is wrong with these arguments? The main error stems from the assumption that human nature is homogeneous. On this issue, the Objectivist epistemology and its classical theory of concepts has led Rand and her disciples astray. As I argued in an earlier post, human nature is a family resemblance concept:

Among the many lessons that can be drawn from the Cognitive Revolution, perhaps the most important has to do with the inevitable conflict between Objectivist methodology on the one hand and the understanding of human nature on the other. Human nature is a family resemblance concept which is partially based on tacit, intuitive knowledge. Consequently, no detailed ... understanding of human nature can be achieved through the sort of "reason" based essentialism advocated by Rand. The Objectivist definition of man as a "rational animal" provides no real insight into human nature and could [never] be used as a reliable guide in predicting how people are likely to behave in a given situation.

Once the heterogeneity of human nature is established, we can proceed to easily demonstrate the degree to which history may in fact be explained on the basis of innate tendencies. To say that human nature is heterogeneous is tantamount to suggesting that human beings can be classified into various types. From common experience, we know that traits of character are not evenly distributed. Some people are more aggressive, more courageous, more intelligent, more sensitive than others. At least some (if not all) of these differences are influenced by genetic factors. It is fairly well established, for instance, that introversion-extroversion are strongly influenced by genetics. There is no evidence that people “choose” their personalities? How could they? That very choice would itself be an expression of personality—which is a roundabout way of saying that choice presupposes character.

It is from this very heterogeneity of human character that we can explain social change. All change in society is primarily brought about by various elites—by leaders in the various fields of human activities. Carlyle was right on this issue. “Universal history, the history of what man has accomplished in this world, is at bottom the history of the Great Men who have worked here,” the dyspeptic historian wrote. “They were the leaders of men, these great ones; the modellers, patterns, and in a wide sense creators, of whatsoever the general mass of men contrive to do or attain.” But an important emendation must be added to Carlyle’s theory. Whether a “great man” exercises an influence on history depends on institutional factors: it depends, more specifically, on what is called the “circulation of elites.” The primary determining cause in social change is a corresponding change in the character traits of those who make up the ruling elite. If individuals of one character type replace, within the elites, individuals of a different type, this have an immense influence on the society at large. For example, some character types are drawn to militaristic values. If such individuals dominate within the ruling elite of a society, that society will inevitably become militaristic.

What determines which individuals dominate within the ruling elite? All sorts of factors—although philosophy rarely plays a part. If a society is attacked by its neighbors, for example, this alone will draw militaristic types into the elite. Institutions play an important role in the selection of elites. Democratic institutions tend to favor so-called “politicians”—i.e., individuals with supple spines who will not scruple to say whatever is needed to get elected. For this reason, democratic political institutions often deselect from the ruling elites just those individuals with strong back bones who refuse to bend the knee to his majesty demos.

The course of history itself is largely determined by the competition between various nations, some of which may have ruling elites of differing compositions. If, by way of example, China were to become the world’s leading power in the 21st century, the course of history could be very different than if America remains the leading power. China’s ruling elite has, for many centuries, been opposed to freedom and obsessed with saving face—a lethal combination. Philosophy has little to do with this. On the contary, the philosophy of China’s ruling elites, whether drawn from Confucius or Karl Marx, is merely an expression of the type of people that have ruled that nation throughout its history.

Objectivism & History, Part 5

W. G. Sumner contra Peikoff. The ideas of philosophy, claims Objectivism, determine the course of history. Very well. But where do these ideas come from? What is their cause?

Peikoff, in his lecture “Philosophy and Psychology in History,” argues that history is ultimately determined by “mankind’s most abstract minds.”

Millions, billions of men may be oblivious to the mind, they may be ignorant of philosophy, they may even be contemptuous of abstractions. But, knowingly or not, they are shaped ultimately by the abstractions of a small handful of individuals.

This curious position leaves unanswered the question: who (or what) shapes the handful of individuals who shapes everyone else? According to Peikoff, Kant unleashed “the power of philosophy” against the West in the last two centuries. Why did Kant do such a thing? What were his motives? What enabled him to develop and propagate his philosophical system? And why did he choose his particular positions, rather than some other? It couldn’t have happened for no reason at all. At bottom, Kant had to be motivated by something. Ideas aren’t formed in a vacuum. So how did Kant for his system? Why did he arise when he did? Why does any philosopher arise when they do? What explains the “emergence” of their philosophies?

According to Peikoff, these are not valid questions.

You cannot have an infinite regress. Suppose I were to say: “Philosophy derives from factor X; if a man has X, he becomes an original philosopher, and if not, not.” That answer would not satisfy you—it would prompt the question: “Where did X come from?” The point is: you have to start somewhere. The basic cause in this kind of series must be a primary.

Why so? Here we have a palpable rationalization put forth to avoid any questions which might expose the poverty of Peikoff’s view. Because once we start asking the question, Why did the philosopher choose to develop these particular ideas, rather than some other? we will immediately led to recognize the fact that ideas are not primaries, that they are developed for specific purposes, and it is these purposes that, this context, are (if anything is) “primary.”

The fundamental implication behind both the Objectivist view of human nature and its concomitant theory of history is the denial that men’s volition is ultimately affected by motivation. For the Objectivist, volition ultimately comes down to choice to think or not. This choice, by implication, is entirely unmotivated.

Beginning students often have a problem with this issue, asking “But what makes a person think or evade?” … Why he chooses one or the other on this level cannot be further explained. That is what it means to say that man has choice and is not determined. A volitional choice is a fundamental beneath which you cannot go.

In other words, what motivates an individual to choose or develop one idea over another is unknowable. Peikoff has here blocked the path of inquiry using that great bête noire of Objectivism, phyrric skepticism. This is a doctrine that you have to an Objectivist true-believer to swallow whole, because when mixed with just a little bit of good sense, it just won’t go down.

Human beings are not blank slates upon which “ mankind’s most abstract minds” may write whatever they wish. We know from the scientific study of human nature that many needs and proclivities of human beings are influenced by genetics. As sociologist William G. Sumner put it:



There are four great motives of human action… These are hunger, sex passion, vanity, and fear (of ghosts and spirits). Under each of these motives there are interests. Life consists in satisfying interests, for “life,” in a society, is a career of action and effort expended on both the material and social environment. However great the errors and misconceptions may be which are included in the efforts, the purpose always is advantage and expediency. The efforts fall into parallel lines, because conditions and the interests are the same…. The result is mass phenomenon; currents of similarity, concurrence, mutual contribution; and these produce folkways. The folkways are unconscious, spontaneous, uncoordinated. It is never known who led to devising them, although we must believe that talent exerted its leadership at all times. There are folkways in stage coach times, which were fitted to that mode of travel. Street cars have produced ways which are suited to that mode of transportation in cities. The telephone has produced ways which have not been invented and imposed by anybody, but which are devised to satisfy conveniently the interests which are at stake in the use of that instrument.

People have wants and needs and they seek to satisfy them, often resorting to nothing more intellectually rigorous than trial and error and the imitation of others. At a much later stage of civilization, conscious intelligence may be applied to some of these problems. But even so, the wants and needs remain primary. As Sumner says, life consists of conveniently satisfying interests. Hence arises the “folkways” or “mores.”

[A]ll the life of human beings, in all ages and stages of culture, is primarily controlled by a vast mass of folkways, handed down from the earliest existence of the race, having the nature of the ways of other animals, only the topmost layers of which are subject to change and control, and have been somewhat modified by human philosophy, ethics, and religion, or by other acts of intelligent reflection.

So what, then, is the role of “ mankind’s most abstract minds” in all of this? Sumner states his position very clearly:

Of course the view which has been stated is antagonistic to the view that philosophy and ethics furnish creative and determining forces in society and history. That view comes down to us from the Greek philosophy and it has now prevailed so long that all current discussion [circa 1900] conforms to it. Philosophy and ethics are pursued as independent disciplines, and the results are brought to the science of society and to statesmanship and legislation as authoritative dicta… It can be seen also that philosophy and ethics are products of the folkways. They are taken out of the mores, but are never original or creative; they are secondary and derived. They often interfere in the second stage of sequence,—act, thought, act. Then they produce harm, but some ground is furnished for the claim that they are creative or at least regulative. In fact, the real process in great bodies of men is not one of deductions from any great principle of philosophy or ethics. It is one of minute efforts to live well under existing conditions, which efforts are repeated indefinitely by great numbers, getting strength from habit and from the fellowship of united action. The resultant folkways become coercive…. Then they seem true and right, and arise into mores as the norm of welfare. Thence are produced faiths, ideas, doctrines, religions, and philosophies, according to the stage of civilization and the fashions of reflection and generalization.

Understanding Objectivist Jargon pt 15: "Objective"

The latest in our ever-popular series translating Objectivist jargon into ordinary usage:

"Objective" = subjective

The Objectivist jargon substitutes unusual or specialised word meanings for standard ones.These specialised meanings can even be the exact opposite of the usual ones (see for example "sacrifice"). The Objectivist meanings are then either insisted upon, or inserted alongside the standard meanings and equivocated between. Thus on examination much Randian argument, especially in epistemology, consists literally of double-talk.

A key example of this is the usual meaning of the word "objective", which is redefined to include the contents of consciousness ie that which is usually called subjective. In this classic passage from "Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand", we observe exactly how Leonard Peikoff engineers this rhetorical switcheroo:

"People often speak of “objective reality.” In this usage, which is harmless, “objective” means “independent of consciousness.” The actual purpose of the concept, however, is to be found not in metaphysics, but in epistemology. Strictly speaking, existents are not objective; they simply are. It is minds, and specifically conceptual processes [including their products], that are objective (emphasis DB) — or nonobjective." - Leonard Peikoff, OPAR p117

Objectivism & History, Part 4

Philosophy versus psychology. If we examine the theoretic rationalization constructed around the Objectivist philosophy of history, one thing immediately becomes apparent: the Objectivist theory of history is merely an extension of Rand’s theory of human nature. “Ayn Rand’s theory of man leads to a distinctive interpretation of history,” notes Peikoff [OPAR, 451] In his lecture on "Philosophy and Psychology in History," Peikoff begins by trying to make the best case he can for the "psychological interpretaion" of history. "It is obvious that most people have no articulate. coherent philosophy," he admits. "It is even questionable, some observers claim, whether most people have a philosophy at all. But it is obvious that everyone does have a psychology.

So does this mean that psychology determines history? No, not at all. The “psychological interpretation” of history, Peikoff insists, is a plausible but mistaken theory. What is wrong with it? Let us examine the reasons Peikoff gives for rejecting the psychological interpretation:

The first thing to ask is: what is the source of psychological factors? Where do they come from? What is their cause? … Let me give you the answer… All the psychological factors … reduce to one element, however complex the terminology. They reduce to emotions… And the source of emotions is: ideas…

This is the basic answer to the psychological interpretation of history. That theory comes down to the view that emotions are the key factor in history. But emotions on a scale that shapes a culture are a consequence of philosophy.

In other words, the Objectivist philosophy of history is the application of Rand’s theory of emotions to history. If Rand’s theory of emotions is wrong, then her theory of history must be wrong as well. So this leads to the obvious question: Is Rand’s theory of emotions right? Well, it just so happens that ARCHNBlog has already answered this question. That post concluded as follows:

[The Objectivist] view of emotions … has been refuted by research done in cognitive science, neuroscience, and evolutionary psychology. These sciences have discovered that animals (including human beings) have "primary emotions," which are "innate" and "preorganized" and which depend on limbic system circuitry in the brain. They have discovered that emotions are critical in thinking, so that the notion that "man can live exclusively by reason," when accompanied by the additional notion that "emotions are not tools of cognition," misrepresents what actually happens in cognition. Human beings are not blank slates. Their emotions are not programmed into their “subconscious” by their conscious minds. That view is no more credible than would be an astrological view of emotions. On naturalistic assumptions, emotions are and must be the product of evolution. They are tools of survival, forged in the evolutionary furnace.

Objectivism & History, Part 3

Metaphysical presuppositions 2. Objectivism rejects what Peikoff labels eclectic theories of history—i.e., those theories that assume the existence of multiple factors affecting the course of history. Objectivism insists that philosophy is the decisive factor in shaping the actions and events of history. As Peikoff explains near the end of Ominous Parallels:

The complexity of human society does not make it unintelligible, not even when it is a society torn by contradictions and in the process of collapse—unless one views the collapse without the benefit of philosophy. Such a procedure means: viewing the symptoms of a disease without knowing that they are symptoms, or that they have a unifying cause.

The metaphysical implications of this view is that reality is so constituted that it is explicable by an ultimate cause. Indeed, this is one of the more controversial implications behind the Objectivist view of knowledge as hierarchical. Reality conveniently allows itself to be explicable within a hierarchy of concepts, with the widest concepts explaining all the lower concepts in the hierarchy. Objectivism tries to evade these metaphysical implications by insisting that this hierarchy is purely epistemological. But in the form it takes in the Objectivist philosophy of history, it is unclear that the metaphysical implications can be carelessly swept under the epistemological rug. Peikoff assumes that as long as you view the complexity of human society with “the benefit of philosophy,” it must be intelligible. Every symptom, Peikoff assumes, has an identifiable unitary cause. This assumption cannot be made on epistemological grounds alone. Unless one assumes that reality itself in fundamentally intelligible, Peikoff’s epistemological assumptions are entirely gratuitous.

The trouble with these unstated metaphysical implications is that they are not fully consistent with realism, that is to say, with the belief in an external substantive world existing in its own plane, with a movement, origin, and destiny of its own, apart from what we may think or fail to think of it. Peikoff’s argument for a single cause of history implies that reality must be intelligible—as if reality exists or was created for our personal cognitive convenience. That is not an assumption the truculent and uncompromising realist can ever make. “A really naked spirit [i.e., a mind without a priori presuppositions] cannot assume that the world is thoroughly intelligible,” wrote one such truculent realist, George Santayana. “There may be surds, there may be hard facts, there may be dark abysses before which intelligence must be silent, for fear of going mad.” At most, the intrepid realist can only assume that reality is partially intelligible, that it is say, that we can know what is necessary for our survival and genetic reproduction. Whether the rest of reality is intelligible can only be discovered empirically; it cannot be assumed a priori.

Objectivism & History, Part 2

Metaphysical presuppositions 1. In the Epilgue to Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand, we find the following curious assertion:

Philosophy is not the only cause of the course of the centuries. It is the ultimate cause, the cause of all the other causes. If there is to be an explanation of so vast a sum as human history, which involves all men in all fields, only the science dealing with the widest abstractions can provide it. The reason is that only the widest abstractions can integrate all those fields.

One of goals of philosophical criticism is to investigate the various implications of a given theory. Often the deviser of the theory is not aware of these implications and may not even endorse them. But they are there nonetheless. Now this passage contains one very odd metaphysical implications which, to further complicate matters, is expressed as a conditional. Peikoff writes “If there is to be an explanation of so vast a sum…” This suggests the possibility that there may not be an explanation. It also produces a dichotomy which gives but two choices: (1) Philosophy is the “ultimate” explanation of history; (2) or there is no explanation of history. Since most people (and all Objectivists) would be loathe to accept (2), the first solution wins by default.

There is another way of approaching this subject that allows us to escape the false dichotomy introduced, via implication, by Peikoff. Consider, as a point of contrast, what Herr Nietzsche has to say on the subject of “wide abstractions”:

The other idiosyncrasy of the philosophers is no less dangerous; it consists in confusing the last and the first. They place that which comes at the end—unfortunately! for it ought not to come at all!—namely, the “highest concepts,” which means the most general, the emptiest concepts, the last smoke of evaporating reality, in the beginning, as the beginning…. Moral: whatever is of the first rank must be causa sui… That which is last, thinnest, emptiest is put first, as the cause...

Now Nietzche’s target in this passage is, of course, the wretched ontological argument for God (with a few digs at the cosmological argument thrown in for good measure); yet the extent to which it can be applied to the Objectivist philosophy of history is quite extraordinary—a demonstration of the close kinship between theology and metaphysics. Philosophy, asserts Peikoff, because it deals with the widest abstractions, must be the “ultimate” cause (where ultimate cause = causa sui). Yet is this really true? Do wider concepts really have more explanatory power? Do they really tell us more about reality? Existence is one of the widest concepts of all. What does it explain? Nothing. It is merely descriptive of some entity, object or quality.

The main problem with wide abstractions is that they miss details that are often of great importance to understanding something as complex as history. This is why Nietzsche ridicules “high” or “general” concepts for being “empty” and “the last smoke of evaporating reality.” By including everything, a wide abstraction ends up including nothing. This provides ample room for equivocation, so that the resourceful metaphysician may deduce anything he damn pleases from his general concepts.

Note the equivocation in the Peikoff’s argument. Peikoff does not deny that there are other causes to history: economic, political, sociological, what have you. He merely denies that they are “primaries.” Philosophy, by virtue of the fact that it deals with “wider” abstractions than politics, economics, subsumes (or, if you prefer, “integrates”) these narrower fields, and is therefore the “ultimate” cause of history.

It is wonderful what can be done, polemically, with this equivocation. If the critic complains that Peikoff denies the role that economics or politics or sociology play in history, the Objectivist apologist can claim: “No, Peikoff does not deny a role to these other things.” But when the critic attempts to find out what the role of these other elements actually is, he finds them conveniently subsumed under philosophy as the “ultimate” cause. With the right hand Peikoff giveth; with the left he taketh back.

Hoisted from Comments: Greg Nyquist Quote of the Day

"Now when pointing this out, I am not criticizing Rand. I disagree with the object of Rand's religious-like emotions. But I regard Rand's incorporation of such emotions as a positive thing, something she can be praised for. Indeed, it is an important source of whatever merit Rand has a philosopher. If Rand is still read and appreciated 100 years from now as a philosopher (rather than just as a novelist), it will not be for her technical philosoph[y] (which was always rather shoddy and has become increasingly dated), but for her ability to project a philosophy that has a vision of things. This is something that only a handful of philosophers have managed to pull off, so it's no mean feat. Now I don't happen to agree with Rand's vision: I think it's in many respects profoundly mistaken. But it's only her ability to project a vision that makes her worth the trouble of criticizing." - Greg Nyquist, in comments, Objectivism and Religion Pt 18

Objectivism & History, Part 1

”Philosophy” of history. Leonard Peikoff begins his lecture “Philosophy and Psychology in History” as follows:

My subject today is the philosophy of history. The philosophy of history asks: why did men act as they did in the past? What is the cause and the meaning of the key developments of previous cultures and centuries, up to an including our own? What is the fundamental factor, the prime mover, shaping the course of human history?

Note the phrase philosophy of history. Peikoff eschews more modest phrases such as study of history or historical sociology or sociocultural evolution. The study of the factors shaping human history, Peikoff implies, can only be discovered through philosophy. Detailed knowledge of sociology, psychology, politics, economics is, presumably, not necessary. Philosophical knowledge holds the key to understanding history.

Here we touch upon the main epistemological error of the Objectivist philosophy of history, an error stemming from the tendency in Randian thought to place to much emphasis on the cognitive value of wide abstractions. People lacking detailed knowledge like to assume that one can get by merely by manipulating broad essentials. But no great insight into human nature or the human condition can be discovered through this method. History, which is a product of the actions (though not necessarily the intentions) of many human beings, often acting contrary to one another, cannot be discovered through the logical or rhetorical manipulation of broad essentials. Detailed knowledge is necessary before we can even begin making educated guesses. The reasoning-by-broad-essentials method advocated by Peikoff (see the final chapter of OPAR) can only lead to rationalization. Since many different conclusions can be inferred from broad essentials, each individual inference is entirely arbitrary. In such a case, the only governing mechanism for determining a specific inference is ideology and wishful thinking. The Objectivist philosophy of history is mere rationalization. It has no cognitive worth other than providing insight into the psychology and motives of Rand and her orthodox followers.

What, precisely, are Objectivists rationalizing in their philosophy of history? The purpose of their theory is twofold: (1) To harmonize the facts of history with Rand's view of human nature; and (2) To explain why Objectivism will triumph in the end. Let’s examine these two goals of rationalization more closely:

1. Human nature and history. Unlike most theories of human nature, which focus on proclivities of behavior observable in the human species, Rand isolated one factor, which she greatly exaggerated—namely, free will. Because human beings have free will, Rand argued, this means that man can shape “his soul in the image of his moral ideal, in the image of … the rational being he is born able to create.” But what about those inherent tendencies that make up traditional theories of human nature, such as those encapsulated in the myth of original sin? Rand denied that any such tendencies exist: “Do not hide behind the cowardly evasion that man is born with free will, but with a ‘tendency’ to evil. A free will saddled with a tendency is like a game with loaded dice. It forces man to struggle through the effort of playing, to bear responsibility and pay for the game, but the decision is weighted in favor of a tendency that he had no power to escape. If the tendency is of his choice, he cannot possess it at birth; if it is not of his choice, his will is not free.” [FNI, 168-169]

The essential point in this passage is Rand’s insistence about the innateness of tendencies. Rand does not deny that tendencies exist; she simply insists that if man has free will, his tendencies must be of his choice. That, in short, is what Rand means by free will: that we choose our tendencies. If men display a tendency to evil (and, historically, some men have displayed such a tendency), that tendency arises from their own free choice.

Although Rand denied that any innate tendencies toward evil existed in human nature, she made statements implying the existence of innate tendencies toward goodness. Consider what she says in her Playboy Interview: 


In any historical period when men were free, it has always been the most rational philosophy that won. It is from this perspective that I would say, yes, Objectivism will win. But there is no guarantee, no predetermined necessity about it.

What this statement implies is that when people are free, they will make the morally proper choice—i.e., they will choose “the most rational philosophy,” which, according to Objectivism, would also be the most moral philosophy. And this view is entirely consistent with Rand’s insistence that men have no evil tendencies: because in the absence of such tendencies, why would anyone, let alone the majority, choose the more evil option?

Yet this immediately raises the problem. Since historically, many men have chosen (perhaps most) philosophies that Rand would have regarded as irrational (and hence evil), how are we to explain this? If men can freely choose their tendencies, why have so many men throughout history chosen evil tendencies? This is the first question that Objectivist philosophy of history sets out to answer.

2. Objectivist eschatology. The other main goal of the Objectivist philosophy of history is to explain why Rand’s philosophy will win in the end. Thus speaketh Leonard Peikoff:

On the basis of the theory of history I have put forth today, therefore, it is proper to have hope for the future. I do think that Objectivism will triumph ultimately and shape the world’s course… ‘Ultimately,’ however, can be a long time [perhaps forever?]…. But if we spread the right ideas now, we each will have a share in bringing about that shining future…” [“Philosophy and Psychology in History”]

Is not this wonderful? Objectivism will triumph in the end! Of course, there is no guarantee, no predetermined necessity about it. But “ultimately” it will happen!

Note as well how it will happen: by spreading the “right” ideas—which means, practically speaking, by spreading the ideas approved of by ARI. Every one of us can help bring about a “shining future.” It’s really all very simple. It doesn’t require getting involved in politics or making a breakthrough in science or engineering or anything that requires a high degree of intellect and energy and loads of work: no, it is not difficult at all: you merely have to spread the ideas of orthodox Objectivism. The Objectivist who runs about debating and denouncing those who disagree with orthodox Objectivism is therefore helping to bring about a shining future! How blessed are they that walketh in the paths of Rand and Peikoff!

Objectivism & Religion, Part 18

Conclusion. In Reason in Religion, the naturalist philosopher George Santayana sought to show how religion could be the “embodiment of reason.” At the conclusion of the work, he presented a view of religion that is both eminently fair and nuanced, distinguishing with great sensitivity the good from the bad:

The preceding analysis of religion, although it is illustrated mainly by Christianity, may enable us in a general way to distinguish the rational goal of all religious life. In no sphere is the contrast clearer between wisdom and folly; in none, perhaps, has there been so much of both. It was a prodigious delusion to imagine that work could be done by magic; and the desperate appeal which human weakness has made to prayer, to castigations, to miscellaneous fantastic acts, in the hope of thereby bending nature to greater sympathy with human necessities, is a pathetic spectacle.…

No less useless and retarding has been the effort to give religion the function of science. Mythology, in excogitating hidden dramatic causes for natural phenomena, or in attributing events to the human values which they might prevent or secure, has profoundly perverted and confused the intellect; it has delayed and embarrassed the discovery of natural forces, at the same time fostering presumptions which, on being exploded, tended to plunge men, by revulsion, into an artificial despair….

Through the dense cloud of false thought and bad habit in which religion thus wrapped the world, some rays broke through from the beginning; for mythology and magic expressed life and sought to express its conditions. Human needs and human ideals went forth in these forms to solicit and to conquer the world; and since these imaginative methods, for their very ineptitude, rode somewhat lightly over particular issues and envisaged rather distant goods, it was possible through them to give aspiration and reflection greater scope than the meaner exigencies of life would have permitted. Where custom ruled morals and a narrow empiricism bounded the field of knowledge, it was partly a blessing that imagination should be given an illegitimate sway. Without misunderstanding, there might have been no understanding at all; without confidence in supernatural support, the heart might never have uttered its own oracles. So that in close association with superstition and fable we find piety and spirituality entering the world.

Rational religion has these two phases: piety, or loyalty to necessary conditions, and spirituality, or devotion to ideal ends. These simple sanctities make the core of all the others. Piety drinks at the deep, elemental sources of power and order: it studies nature, honours the past, appropriates and continues its mission. Spirituality uses the strength thus acquired, remodelling all it receives, and looking to the future and the ideal. True religion is entirely human and political, as was that of the ancient Hebrews, Romans, and Greeks. Supernatural machinery is either symbolic of natural conditions and moral aims or else is worthless.

Now my primary argument against the hostility toward religion manifested in Objectivism and other brands of uncompromising or intolerant atheism is that it clouds the understanding. Disbelief in God becomes bigotry against all forms of theism and most adherents of religion. It introduces into the intellect a pernicious astigmatism which causes the individual to see far more of the bad than the good side of religion. Religion, when seen through this astigmatism, becomes a kind of bogeyman. A form of unbelief that began in rationality terminates in a kind of prejudice and dogmatism that is contrary to the scientific spirit. Atheism soon becomes a kind of obverse religion. In its zeal, it adopts some of the most extreme views found in the rubbish heap of outmoded scientific theories, such as physicalism, determinism, and a dogmatic form of Darwinism that would turn natural selection into the sole principle behind the evolution of human life.

While Rand and her apologists managed to avoid the absurdities of the materialistic atheists, this did not prevent them from stumbling into other absurdities, the worst of which is Rand’s ideal man, who experiences “no inner conflicts” and whose “consciousness is in perfect harmony.” The ideal man was the object of Rand’s religious worship. Her fictional heroes were her gods, the principle objects of whatever piety existed in her.

Although she disliked religion, Rand nonetheless appreciated religious emotion. She recognized its importance. Yet one must question the objects to which she addressed these emotions. Consider Santayana’s view of the rational elements of religion. He identifies piety, which he describes as “ loyalty to necessary conditions,” as one of the two phases of rational religion. Santayana’s piety, then, his religious emotions, are focused on the sources of his being: on nature, the past, his innate talents and abilities, and his “mission” in life—the goals to which his organism are naturally directed. In short, Santayana’s piety is focused on things that are real. Rand’s piety, on the other hand, is focused on a figment: on her ideal man as portrayed in such extravagant works of fiction as The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged.

By remaining friendly to religion, Santayana was able to recognize those aspects of religion that could enrich his naturalist philosophy. In the essay “Ultimate Religion,” Santayana outlined his basic method, which involved, as he put it, an “examination of conscience” in which he found “a sort of secret or private philosophy perhaps more philosophical than [my public philosophy]: and while I set up no gods, not even Spinoza’s infinite Deus sive Natura, I do consider on what subjects and to what end we might consult those gods, if we found that they existed: and surely the aspiration that would prompt us, in that case, to worship gods, would be our truest heart-bond and our ultimate religion.”

In other words, theology, for Santayana, becomes a Socratic exercise in determining what we really value. If a God or gods did exist, what kind of ideals would they represent? What kind of ideals would they wish us to pursue? Those theists who look to theology to provide matters of fact about an existing God or gods, and those atheists who are hell-bent on denying the factual claims of dogmatic theists, have both missed the point. Theology is not about facts, it is about ideals and plumbing the depths of the human heart. But it requires a true naturalist who harbors no animus against religion or religious believers to understand and appreciate the extent to which religion, when surveyed rationally and without rancor, can enrich one’s existence and deepen one’s philosophy.

The Madness of King Leonard

Leonard Peikoff weighs in with a truly bizarre post-9/11 performance on Bill O'Reilly's show.

Binswanger:"The Universe Is All About Me"

Objectivism's fondness for egoism and introspection leads naturally, if unwittingly, into solipsism and subjectivism. For an example of this tendency, here we have Harry Binswanger from his July 08 Monthly Enticement (a free email essay to draw paying customers to his subscriber-only list):

Binswanger: Since the theme here is anti-selfishness, I'll close in my own, selfish voice. Ayn Rand showed me that it *is* all about me. "When I die," she said, quoting an Ancient Greek philosopher, "the universe goes out of existence." And though that is false, "from the outside,"it is absolutely true "from the inside." When my life ends, there's nothing *for me*. The universe is all about me. So you'll forgive me if I'm not only addicted to oil, but to money, values, life, and, at root, addicted to existence.

Objective "Immoralist" of the Week

One of the most unusual teachings of Ayn Rand's confused ethics is that to risk one's life for a stranger is profoundly "immoral" - a symptom of a "lack of self esteem", a "lack of respect for others" and ultimately a product of the corrupting influence of altruistic premises on society as a whole.

In that spirit, the ARCHNblog presents an occasional series of such "immoralists." Today: 

Woman Drags Young Boy To Safety During Frenzied Dog Attack.

Perhaps worse still by Objectivist lights is the media which, in a symptom of the perverse corruption of their underlying philosophical premises, consistently treat such "immoral" people as heroic.

Now it seems obvious that Objectivists, who are also compelled by their philosophy not to withhold judgement in the face of immorality, should strongly protest against such moral travesties and their media enablers. Where are the press releases, the stern letters to the editor etc?

Objectivism & Religion, Part 17

Abortion. Rand and her followers tend to be unapologetic defenders of abortion, including abortion right up to the moment of birth. Objectivists are not only uncompromising on this issue, they also give it a high priority as a cause to champion. According to the Objectivist site abortionisprolife.com, “Any one who advocates the outlawing of abortion (especially in the first few months of pregnancy)—like Steve Forbes—is an enemy of individual rights in principle, and thus an enemy of capitalism.” Since many advocates of the free market are opposed to abortion, the uncompromsing stance of Objectivism on this issue serves merely to prevent Rand’s followers from making alliances with other pro-market forces.

The issue of abortion rests on whether the fetus is regarded as a human being. Peikoff recognizes this in his article celebrating the Roe vs. Wade decision. “[A]bortion-rights advocates [should not] keep hiding behind the phrase ‘a woman's right to choose.’” Peikoff wrote. “Does she have the right to choose murder? That's what abortion would be, if the fetus were a person.” Objectivists are certain that a fetus is not a human life. How do they know this? Because, as Rand argued, a fetus is only a “potential” human life. But why is it only a potential life? To say that a fetus is only a potential, rather than an actual life, is merely to repeat that it is not an actual life in other words. It is, in short, to assume the point at issue. If we are to be strictly honest about his issue, we have to admit that it is not obvious whether a fetus should be regarded as a human life or not. At the stage of conception, it is only a few cells—and how can a few cells consitute a human life? Quickly, however, in the matter of a few weeks, it develops into something more interesting and substantial, gradually taking on human form and characteristics. Perhaps the most reasonable position would be to regard a fetus as an emerging life. Granted, this would mean that we couldn’t quite determine when a fetus becomes a human life. Abortion would thus remain what it is for most people: morally problematic. That, indeed, appears to be the attitude of the majority of Americans who, while regarding abortion as immoral, nevertheless believe it should remain legal in the first (and possibly second) trimester(s). Where many Americans differ decisively from Objectivism is in their view that late term abortions (i.e., partial-birth abortion) should in most instances be illegal.

Objectivists in their own way are every bit as unhinged and extreme on the issue of abortion as are those “pro-lifers” who would charge those who have abortions with first degree murder. They are constantly comparing fetuses to tissues, useless body organs, collections of cells, etc. Peikoff goes so far as to describe a fetus as a “cluster of lifeless cells”—a contradictio in adjecto if ever there was one! Such descriptions, besides betraying an imbalance of mind, are in bad taste. Whether we are for or against the criminalization of abortion, surely there is no reason to regard a fetus as only a clump of meaningless cells!

The arbitrary and inconclusive nature of the Objectivist argument for abortion rights can easily be appreciated if we compare it to Objectivist-based arguments against abortion. Yes, such arguments do exist: there are indeed self-proclaimed Objectivists who delight in using Objectivist modes of argumentation to reach the opposite conclusion on the question of abortion. Mark La Vigne argues as follows:


[The Objectivist position on abortion], of all things I have read and understood of objectivism, as advocated by A.R.I., is the single most inconsistent area of the Institute's intellectual endeavors. Human life is human life. "A is A." Mr. Peikoff would lead a reader to believe that an infant developed instantaneously, at the moment of birth, into a "real human being." This defies all known logic. Rather than simply stating the facts, perhaps what is needed is a further demonstration of them:

Mr Peikoff claims that the embryo "exists as part of the woman's body." True or false? False. It is dependent upon the woman's body, but the real test of it as an integral part of her body is whether it can successfully be removed without harm to her, and implanted in another woman without harm to either the surrogate or the embryo. The answer is "yes" in each instance. Can it, at this stage, exist independent of some woman's body, other than by freezing? No. That does not, however, make it part of a woman's body.

La Vigne makes a few good points against Peikoff’s arguments, but his points hardly constitute an argument for the pro-life position. It is merely an argument against Peikoff’s bad arguments. Nor does the “A is A” reference help one jot (unless it is inserted for reasons of satire).

A more serious argument (perhaps too serious) along Objectivist lines is presented by G. Stolyarov.

The question then becomes, “When does a potential cease being a mere alternative among many?” Prior to the conception of a child, there is absolutely no guarantee that a particular genetic code will be furnished to serve as the basis for the uniquely adjusted rational faculty of a child-to-be. Therefore it is moral to prevent conception by means of abstinence or contraceptives, and the couple will therefore possess a genuine choice of whether or not to expend a substantial portion of their lives and finances on the upbringing of offspring. However, once conception has occurred, the peculiar genome is already in place, which will result in the inevitable development of a rational creature absent intervention. Granted, the fetus does not yet possess volitional consciousness, but neither does a man who is asleep. Does that grant a serial murderer the right to enter his home, loot his property and kill one whom he mistakenly judges to be “potentially awake”? The fact that that particular man (or child) will, if unhindered, be able to exercise his volitional consciousness, classifies him as a human being.

Although hardly a convincing argument, I must give Stolyarov credit for originality. A fetus is not a “potential” human life because, once conception takes place, there exists a guarantee of a particularly genetic code for a uniquely adjusted rational faculty! Okay, if you say so Mr. Stolyarov! Yet once again I must belabor the obvious: all such verbalist arguments, regardless of which side of the debate they come down on, are utterly futile precisely because no one would ever change their mind after being exposed to them. They seem effective only to those who have already made up their minds and agree with the positions asserted in them.

Objectivism & Religion, Part 16

Religion and the underclass. One of the most witty and clever critics of organized religion is Voltaire, the most popular intellectual of the Enlightenment. At dinner parties Voltaire and his guests would routinely scoff at religion. One day, however, Voltaire’s servants were setting the table when his guests began making derisive remarks about religion. Voltaire immediately rose to his feet and ordered the servants out of the room. He then turned to his guests and admonished them, saying, “If you let these people hear that, they will become savage as lions. It’s all very well for us to say these things among ourselves, but if these people hear us scoffing at their religion, they won’t obey a word I tell them because religion is what makes them good.”

Now while I suspect that Voltaire over-stated the case for the moral effect of religion on the “lower” classes, there is still an element of truth in what he said. In any case, whether Voltaire was right or wrong, the underclass represents a growing problem in the West that secularists have not solved. The British underclass, which, in the last half century, has become completely secularized, presents a chilling example of this, particularly as limned in Dr. Theodore Dalrymple’s series of sobering essays entitled Life at the Bottom. In an essay entitled “Tough Love,” Dalrymple describes the effects of sexual liberation on the underclass:

Today’s disastrous insouciance about so serious a matter as the relationship between the sexes is surely something new in history: even thirty years ago, people showed vastly more circumspection in the formation of liaisons than they do now. The change represents, of course, the fulfillment of the sexual revolution. The prophets of that revolution wished to empty the relationship between the sexes of all moral significance and destroy the customs and institutions that governed it…. [They] believed that if sexual relations could be liberated from artificial social inhibitions and legal restrictions, something beautiful would emerge: a life in which no desire need be frustrated, a life in which human pettiness would melt away like snow in spring…. The grounds for such petty bourgeois emotions as jealousy and envy would vanish: in a world of perfect fulfillment, each person would be as happy as the next.

The program of the sexual revolutionaries has more or less been carried out, especially in the lower reaches of society, but the results have been vastly different from those so foolishly anticipated. The revolution foundered on the rock of an unacknowledged reality: that women are more vulnerable to abuse than men by virtue of biology alone, and that the desire for the exclusive sexual possession of another has remained just as strong as ever. This desire is incompatible, of course, with the equally powerful desire—eternal in the human breast but hitherto controlled by social and legal inhibitions—for complete sexual freedom. Because of these biological and psychological realities, the harvest of the sexual revolution has not been a brave new world of human happiness but rather an enormous increase in violence between the sexes…

[T]he reality of this increase meets angry denial from those with a vested ideological interest… Still, the fact remains that a hospital such as mine has experienced in the last two decades a huge increase in the number of injuries to women, most of them the result of domestic violence…. About one in five of the women aged sixteen to fifty living in my hospital’s area attends the emergency department during the year as a result of injuries sustained during a quarrel with a boyfriend or husband… In the last two years I have treated at least two thousand men who have been violent to their wives, girlfriends, lovers, and concubines. It seems to me that violence on such a vast scale could not easily have been overlooked in the past—including by me.

Dalrymple summarizes the condition of the underclass in the following terms:

Here the whole gamut of folly, wickedness, and misery may be perused at leisure—in conditions, be it remembered, of unprecedented prosperity. Here are abortions procured by abdominal kung fu; children who have children, in numbers unknown before the advent of chemical contraception and sex education; women abandoned by the father of their child a month before or a month after delivery; insensate jealousy, the reverse of the coin of general promiscuity, that results in the most hideous oppression and violence; serial stepfatherhood that leads to sexual and physical abuse of children on a mass scale; and every kind of loosening of the distinction between the sexually permissible and the impermissible.

The connection between this loosening and the misery of my patients is so obvious that it requires considerable intellectual sophistication (and dishonesty) to be able to deny it.

What role, if any, has secularization played in the social disintegration of the British underclass? To answer this question, we turn to French historian Elie Halevy, author of an important history of England during the 19th century. Halevy wanted to explain how Britain, despite profound contradictions, was spared a violent revolution during the 19th century. Halevy maintained that the stability of the British order came about through the stabilizing influence of evangelical religion, particularly Methodism, which enabled Great Britian to establish itself as a country of freedom, “of voluntary obedience, of an organization freely initiated and freely accepted.” The key concept here is “voluntary obedience.” In every society, there exists a class of individuals incapable of governing themselves. “Society cannot exist unless a controlling power upon will and appetite be placed somewhere,” warned Edmund Burke, “and the less of it there is within, the more there must be without. It is ordained in the eternal constitution of things, that men of intemperate minds cannot be free. Their passions forge their fetters.”

How, then, is society to deal with with those individuals of “intemperate mind” who cannot control their appetites. As usual, there is no perfect solution, but of the imperfect remedies at our disposal, voluntary religion of traditional, Christianized is as good as any, and may be better than most. After all, it worked a lot better in 19th Century Britain than secularism has worked in contemporary Great Britain. In 1815, despite difficult economic conditions, Great Britain managed to maintain a commendable degree of order despite lacking a police force, a welfare state, or any kind of bureaucratic government management. Social order in 1815 was maintained voluntarily. Yet, despite this voluntarism, there were far fewer crimes either against persons or property. What would happen today either in the inner cities of the United States or the United Kingdom if there were no police force and extensive judicial system, with its concomitant prisons and jails, probation officers and court psychiatrists?

In the last year, several houses in my neighborhood have been burglarized. A few months ago I forgot to lock my vehicle and several hundred dollars of stuff was immediately filched from it. According to statistics, ninety-nine percent of Americans will be victims of theft at least once in their lives. Eight-seven percent will have property stolen from them three or more times. This level of thievery did not exist 100 years ago, when this country was considerably more religious. While there are other factors involved in this massive demoralization of society other than religion, it would be naive to believe that religion has played no role in it at all. When Marx called religion the opium of the masses, he meant it as an attack. But perhaps Marx was right in a way he would have been loathe to imagine. Perhaps the drug-like qualities of religion are a necessary tool for maintaining a tolerable degree of social order among the underclass. In any case, secularists have not come up with anything better. Nor did Rand have anything to offer on this issue, besides the naive conviction that, since people have free will, everyone can be rational. Poppycock, however, grinds no flour. The fact remains: some people are not capable of being rational. Refuting Kant will not change this fact. What, then, are we to do with these people? Evading the problem will not make it go away.