Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 4

Nothing is self-evident. Central to the Objectivist metaphysics is the notion that there are certain premises or “axioms” that are “self-evident.” This notion of self-evidence is at the very root of Rand’s foundationalism and must be challenged before we go any further.

Rand once claimed that, “ Nothing is self-evident except the material of sensory perception.” However, the Objectivist “axioms” are also regarded as self-evident, even though it is not clear in what sense these axioms can be regarded as “material of sensory perception” (or even what “material of sensory perception” is supposed to mean!). In dealing with the Objectivist metaphysics, “we must speak by the card, or equivocation will undo us.”

David Kelley defined an axiom as “a self-evident principle that is implicit in all knowledge.” How is an axiom “self-evident”? What does this self-evidence rest on? Objectivists resort to a rather strained argument that convinces only those who wish to be convinced. “An axiom is a proposition that defeats its opponents by the fact that they have to accept it and use it in the process of any attempt to deny it,” explained Rand [emphasis added]. In other words, according to Rand, an axiom is true and self-evident because you cannot refute it without assuming its validity. However, is this notion of how an axiom is true and self-evident also self-evident? And if it is not, how can Rand claim that her axioms are self-evident?

Here’s one problem: Rand claims that every one of her axioms are assumed in the attempt to deny them. How does she know this? Is she familiar with all the potential arguments that can be essayed against them? Of course not: she can’t be familiar with every attempt to deny them. Therefore her assertion is based on a kind of inference—namely, an inductive inference. Now whatever Rand or anyone else thinks of induction, such inferences can hardly be reckoned as self-evident. Therefore, her very belief that her axioms can only be denied by assuming them does not carry with it the stamp of self-evidence, which her axioms require to pass muster.

There’s another problem as well. It seems that Rand did not really understand extreme skepticism, that she may very well have been guilty of confusing the necessary presuppositions of her own philosophy with those of the skeptic. As Santayana noted,

The sceptic is not committed to the implications of other men’s language; nor can he be convicted out of his own mouth by the names he is obliged to bestow on the details of his momentary vision. There may be long vistas in it ; there may be many figures of men and beasts, many legends and apocalypses depicted on his canvas ; there may even be a shadowy frame about it, or the suggestion of a gigantic ghostly some thing on the hither side of it which he may call himself. All this wealth of objects is not inconsistent with solipsism, although the implication of the conventional terms in which those objects are described may render it difficult for the solipsist always to remember his solitude. Yet when he reflects, he perceives it; and all his heroic efforts are concentrated on not asserting and not implying anything, but simply noticing what he finds. Scepticism is not concerned to abolish ideas ; it can relish the variety and order of a pictured world, or of any number of them in succession, without any of the qualms and exclusions proper to dogmatism. Its case is simply not to credit these ideas, not to posit any of these fancied worlds, nor this ghostly mind imagined as viewing them. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, 15-16]

In short, Rand seems to have forgotten that denying existence means denying that the images of sense relate to an external, substantive world of fact, existing in time and space. Positing a world from the data of sense can never be “self-evident.” The only thing that is “evident” to the self is the passing rush of datum across the mind’s sentience. Yet none of these datum, taken by themselves, can be evidence of anything until we assume they are signs of outward things existing in reality. And that assumption, although true, is hardly “self-evident.”

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 3

Objectivism’s revolt against representationalism. David Kelley describes representationalism as follows:

[Representationalism] is the view that we are directly aware only of internal sense contents, from which we must infer external objects. (And this view is adopted because the representationalist shares with the traditional realist the assumption that direct awareness must be diaphanous [i.e., awareness must be passive and transparent, and there must exist no difference between the physical object in reality and how it appears in consciousness]. Every argument for representationalism reduces in one way or another to the core argument: Direct awareness is diaphanous; the perception of physical objects is not diaphanous; therefore perception is not direct.)

Kelley is guilty here of overstating his case. What he says about every argument for representationalism may be true of Descartes and Locke; but it’s hardly true of the American critical realists, of philosophers such as Arthur Lovejoy and George Santayana. Representationalism, to such philosophers, is merely an obvious corollary to the basic notions of realism. If both consciousness and matter exist, the perception of matter by consciousness must be achieved through some kind of medium, since a physical object cannot literally enter into consciousness. And since through experience we know that people have percepts, concepts, ideas and other mental datum that are obviously not identical with whatever material objects they may be associated with, representationalism, for the realist, becomes de rigueur. Objectivism, despite its rejection of representationalism, is, implicitly, a representationalist philosophy. Nearly every philosophy is at least implicitly representationalist. The only exception would be a philosophy that preached the solipsism of the present moment. As long as the philosopher believes that one idea or concept can serve as a symbol or a sign for something other than that idea or concept, he is, at least implicitly, a representationalist. Rand believes in concepts that are not identical to their object in reality. Therefore, she is a representationalist. Most idealists believe in time, that is, in a past and a future, and in a memory that can know the past. But what is memory but a representation of what is not present in consciousness? Therefore, idealists are representationalists as well, at least in terms of the past.


Why does Objectivism reject representationalism? According to Rand's chief disciples, representationalism (allegedly) holds that individuals can only know their representations—that is, the sense data perceived by the mind. The objects in reality that this sense data “represents” are “unknowable” (as Kant argued) and at best can only be inferred. In short, representationalism cuts the mind off from reality, leaving the mind only with the representations.

Now this is a caricature of representationalism inspired by the confusions of Immanuel Kant. Philosophers such as Kant believed that knowledge should be certain, and so they were driven to ask the question: If I know things only by representations, are not the representations the only things I know?

George Santayana answered this question as follows:

This challenge is fundamental, and so long as the assumptions which it makes are not challenged in turn, it drives critics of knowledge inexorably to scepticism of a dogmatic sort, I mean to the assertion that the very notion of knowledge is absurd…. Plato and many other philosophers … have identified science with certitude, and consequently entirely condemned what I call knowledge (which is a form of animal faith) or relegated it to an inferior position, as something merely necessary for life…. Knowledge is no such thing…. Knowledge ... is belief: belief in a world of events, and especially of those parts of it which are near the self, tempting or threatening it. This belief is native to animals, and precedes all deliberate use of intuitions as signs or descriptions of things... Furthermore, knowledge is true belief. It is such an enlightening of the self by intuitions arising there, that what the self imagines and asserts of the collateral thing, with which it wrestles in action, is actually true of that thing. Truth in such presumptions or conceptions does not imply adequacy, nor a pictorial identity between the essence in intuition [i.e, the representation] and the constitution of the object. Discourse is a language, not a mirror. The images in sense are parts of discourse, not parts of nature : they are the babble of our innocent organs under the stimulus of things ; but these spontaneous images, like the sounds of the voice, may acquire the function of names ; they may become signs, if discourse is intelligent and can recapitulate its phases, for the things sought or encountered in the world. The truth which discourse can achieve is truth in its own terms, appropriate description: it is no incorporation or reproduction of the object in the mind. The mind notices and intends ; it cannot incorporate or reproduce anything not an intention or an intuition…. Therefore any degree of inadequacy and originality is tolerable in discourse, or even requisite, when the constitution of the objects which the animal encounters is out of scale with his organs, or quite heterogeneous from his possible images. A sensation or a theory, no matter how arbitrary its terms (and all language is perfectly arbitrary), will be true of the object, if it expresses some true relation in which that object stands to the self, so that these terms are not misleading as signs, however poetical they may be as sounds or as pictures. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, 170-180]

Rand and her disciples take an entirely different approach to the question If I know things only by representations, are not the representations the only things I know? They simply evade it. Objectivism claims that human beings have direct awareness through perception of external objects. For an Objectivist, direct means: without conceptual processing. This, however, merely evades the problem by redefining the term direct. What is at issue is whether perception uses representations: and all the evidence available to us suggests very strongly that perception is every bit as symbolic and representative as is conception. The very fact that a percept is not identical to its object establishes that the percept is a representation. Visual perception clearly brings forth, within the mind, a field of images. If there exist any doubt on this subject, one merely has to observe that the lens and cornea of the human eye actually invert or turn the image displayed on the retina upside down. The brain then proceeds to turn the image field right side up for viewing in the field of consciousness. Hence what we “see” “directly” in consciousness are images, not the physical objects. After all, the mind, when it flips the image field right-side up, does not flip right side up the real world. It flips over a field of representations. Moreover, if individuals are told to wear special glasses that reverse the field of vision, so that the image is displayed on the retina right-side up, while they at first perceive the world as upside down, if the wear the glasses long enough, the brain automatically reorientates the field of vision right-side up. So visual perception can hardly be seen as “direct.” Consciousness, before it can become aware of material objects, must translate the data read by the senses into a language that the consciousness can read and interpret. The point of perception is not to duplicate or mirror physical objects, but, as Santayana put it, to express “some true relation in which that object stands to the self.” Representationalism, far from rendering knowledge impossible, provides the explanation of how it is that one mode of existence (i.e., consciousness) can become cognizant of a very different mode (i.e., the physical world). Those who equate representationalism with “knowing only our representations” are guilty of making a false demand of knowledge. They demand that knowledge be certain and direct. Knowledge is no such thing. Knowledge attempts to make us aware of objects existing outside of consciousness. It is transitive and symbolic and conjectural right from the very start. Whether described as “perceptual” or “conceptual,” knowledge is indirect, mediated by symbols, which help reduce physical objects to a scale amenable to human intelligence. No logical proof or foundationalist rationalization can validate this indirect, symbolic knowledge. It involves a conjectural leap. We must take nature by the hand, and assume the symbols which arise in consciousness represent objects or events in a physical world. Once we take this leap, we will find our faith justified, not by logic, but by praxis. It is the practical necessities of life, the urgent biological needs of the human organism, that force us to take this conjectural leapand become tacit and practical realists, despite whatever foundationalist or idealist misgivings we may entertain.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 2

Basic presuppositions of realism. Realism is the view that physical objects exist independently of being perceived (that is to say, physical objects exist whether they are perceived or not). What is presupposed in such a view?

1. That physical objects exist.
2. That there exists something that perceives these physical objects.
3. That the independence of physical objects does not imply complete separation from the perceiver, that there exists some kind of connection between the object and the perceiver of the object.

From these three presupposition we can flesh out the realist position. Realism believes in a physical existence and a sentient perceiver, in other words, matter and consciousness. The belief that the universe is made up primarily of matter and consciousness is known as psychophysical dualism. Most Objectivists reject this dualism, identifying it with the mind-body dichotomy of Plato. Only Harry Binswanger has suggested that Objectivism is consistent with psychophysical dualism:

What's called dualism is the bogey of philosophy. Since Descartes is wrong in regard to the primacy of consciousness, people smear him that anything he ever said is wrong. And one thing that he said was there's a mind and a body. Now that's right….

Dualism is a dangerous term because of its being used for a strawman. But if you mean: Do we believe there are really two existents? Yes! The mind exists and the brain exists—and neither is the other. As I said, shape exists and color exists—and neither is the other. There are many cases of two attributes of the same entity, neither of which can be reduced to the other…. So, yes, I'm a dualist. Or as Leonard [Peikoff] says in OPAR, because the term dualism is not one we have to fight to save and it's so associated with Descartes, the proper word for it is: Objectivism, not dualism. We have our own distinct view here. But if you had to put it in the historical classification, yeah, we're not monists. We believe that both consciousness and matter exist and neither is reducible to the other.

Depiste this rather tepid acknowledgement of dualism, some Objectivists were shocked by Binswanger’s allegiance with so “dangerous” a term. Yet realism implies psychophysical dualism, so that if you are a logically consistent realist, you must, ipso facto, be a psychophysical dualist.

Realism also believes that consciousness is capable of perceiving matter. This is a more difficult proposition to elucidate, particularly for foundationalists like Rand, who wish to provide a veneer of logic for their chief assertions. In the main, there are two groups of theories: (1) direct realism, which posits that we perceive physical objects without mediation, so that physical objects exist precisely as we see them; (2) indirect realism, which posits that we perceive all objects through the medium of ideas, that, in effect, there exists a dualism between physical objects and how they are represented in consciousness. Most theories of realism, including Rand’s, are convoluted attempts to combine direct and indirect realism. They are all involved in what the realist philosopher Arthur Lovejoy called “the revolt against dualism.” None of these confused realists are comfortable admitting that reality is perceived through the medium of ideas, because this insight inevitably stresses the provisional, conjectural nature of knowledge.

So to sum up: the hypothesis of realism, when fleshed out, involves belief in two dualisms:

1. Psychophysical dualism (i.e., the belief that matter and consciousness exist).
2. Epistemological dualism (i.e., the belief that mind perceives material objects through the veil of ideas—i.e., representationalism).

Is there any reasons for believing that realism, along with these two dualisms, is true? I will turn to this subject in the next post.

Epic Fail - Update

The awesome $5m movie of Rand's epic Atlas Shrugged has wrapped. Below, fitness equipment entrepreneur and first time movie producer John Aglialaro provides us with an alleged "teaser":

Atlas Shrugged teaser from The Atlas Society on Vimeo.

Dust Up At Ground Zero

I haven't been paying much attention to the latest burgeoning Objecto-schism regarding the proposed mosque near - well, four blocks away from - Ground Zero in New York. Leonard Peikoff wants it stopped, despite the legitimacy, in Objectivism, of the owners property rights to build whatever they want on the land they own. This has created some consternation even in Orthodox Objectivist circles, where Peikoff's every word is usually slavishly adhered to. BenSix in comments helpfully supplies this article on the palaver. The upshot is that the application of Randian property rights turns out in practice to be as unclear to Randians as it is to anyone else. The subtext is quite possibly Palace politics in Orthodox Objectivism, as the weathervanes swirl in the vacuum increasingly surrounding the frail Peikoff.

Objectivism & “Metaphysics,” Part 1

Preliminaries. What on earth is all this nonsense that goes under the name “metaphysics”? Rand defined metaphysics as “the study of existence as such or, in Aristotle’s words, of ‘being qua being.’” Well, that sure narrows it down! More insightful is George Santayana’s take on the subject:

Metaphysics, in the proper sense of the word, is dialectical physics, or an attempt to determine matters of fact by means of logical or moral or rhetorical constructions. It arises by a confusion of those Realms of Being which it is my special care to distinguish. It is neither physical speculation nor pure logic nor honest literature, but (as in the treatise of Aristotle first called by that name) a hybrid of the three, materialising ideal entities, turning harmonies into forces, and dissolving natural things into terms of discourse. Speculations about the natural world, such as those of the Ionian philosophers, are not metaphysics, but simply cosmology or natural philosophy. [Scepticism and Animal Faith, vii]

I have tended to follow Santayana’s usage of the word, regarding metaphysics as, in the main, empirically irresponsible speculation. Even when used to defend postulates that are basically sound, metaphysics remains, in the words of F. H. Bradley, “the finding of bad reasons for what we believe upon instinct.”



There is, however, one other usage of the word that should be noted. Karl Popper applied the word metaphysics to any claims or conjectures that are not empirically testable. Popper’s usage, while entirely blameless, is not one I normally honor.

Now following Santayana’s usage, I inevitably open myself up to complaints, often introduced in an angry tone, that, I too, have a metaphysics; that indeed, “having a metaphysics” is inevitable, since everyone has a “basic view of the world,” that is to say, a “metaphysics.” However, following Santayana, I don’t choose to call my so-called “basic view” of the universe metaphysical. It is merely, as Santayana calls it, cosmology or natural philosophy. And I entirely reject any attempt to determine matters of fact by means of logical or moral or rhetorical constructions. Such devices, I hold, cannot lead to truth, but only encourage rationalization and empty speculation.

What, then, is my “basic view of the universe”? In the broad essentials, it is not so different from Rand’s. It involves the fundamental assumptions involved in living. I presuppose, for instance, the existence of time, including a past that is gone and a future that is to come; the existence of a physical universe made up of gross objects in space; and the existence of consciousness, which perceives existence through the veil of ideas. Unlike Rand, I don’t believe these basic presuppositions can be defended or validated via axioms or logical argumentation. All these fundamental presuppositions may conceivably be illusory—that is to say, the arguments against them cannot be decisively refuted. They are presuppositions which nature has bred in us (probably via evolution) and which have proved their worth, not by logic, but through centuries of practice. They neither require nor are amenable to logical justification.

Rand takes a very different approach. She is an extreme foundationalist who believes that man’s fundamental presuppositions requires explicit logical justification; that in the absence of this justification, people will lose their ability to think for themselves and will become incapable of supporting a free society. Is there any evidence to support this contention? None that is convincing. The belief that all human contentions and presuppositions require explicit philosophical justification constitutes a false demand. Few people understand, let alone care, about such arcana. Rand’s foundationalism only serves to encourage rationalization, verbalism, essentialism, and other modes of empty speculation, and is often symptomatic of a dogmatic turn of mind that has trouble accepting the provisional and conjectural nature of knowledge. Rather than being an ally of realism, foundationalism tends to undermine it, as it forces the philosopher to adopt premises that are at odds with realism.

But more on this anon.

Defending the Impossible

Over at amazon.com, there's a bit of a philosophical duel going on between myself and Rand apologist Paul Beaird. While it hardly reaches the exalted rank of Lincoln-Douglass or Wilberforce-Huxley, it will give Rand watchers a chance to witness an intelligent advocate of Rand trying to defend three impossible positions, namely: (1) that Rand logically derived an ought from an is, a value from a fact; (2) that there exists no equivocation between "man's life" and "man's survival qua man"; and (3) that Hume denied the possibility of any connection between fact and value. Since these positions are indefensible, Mr. Beaird spends most of his time try to divert attention through various debating tricks, particular the old the best defense is a good offense trick. Instead of defending Rand, he attacks what he imagines are my failings, with predictable results.

Empirical responsibility is not exactly one of Mr. Beaird's virtues. He twice insists that "Rand's use of observable facts and the relationships between them [which facts and relationships are those? can he state any?] to demonstrate the natural foundation of the concept 'value' is so well-known by now that, for you to still insist Hume had not been refuted reveals an uncomprehending mind..." Of course, no evidence is brought forth to back this extraordinary claim. Rand critic Michael Huemer expresses a very different point of view:

Objectivists seem to find "The Objectivist Ethics" completely convincing. But hardly anyone else finds it at all convincing. This is not a trivial observation—one often finds that people who do not accept a whole philosophical system nevertheless find certain parts of it plausible. And one often finds that people who are not ultimately persuaded by an argument nevertheless see some plausibility in it. But neither of these things is true of the argument of “The Objectivist Ethics”—hardly anyone finds that argument even slightly plausible, unless they also buy into virtually all of Ayn Rand’s views. This is not true of most of her other views: one would not be surprised to find a non-Objectivist who nevertheless thinks Rand’s political views are reasonable, or her epistemological views, or her aesthetic theories. The explanation is simple: the theory of “The Objectivist Ethics” is simultaneously the most distinctive and the least plausible, worst defended of all of Rand’s major ideas. (Here is a nicer way to say that: all of Rand’s other major theories are more plausible and better defended than that one.)

Now who is right? Is Rand's argument in "The Objectivist Ethics" so "well known by now" that only an "uncomprehending mind" would fail to understand that Rand had "refuted" Hume? Or is the argument only accepted by Objectivists, who are committed to accepting everything by Rand, in defiance of fact and logic? Huemer's contention is by far the more plausible. I can't think of a single non-Objectivist who accepts Rand's argument. And most people have never heard of it at all, and would not be able to make heads or tails of it if it were explained to them.

In my exchange with Mr. Beaird, I have made repeated calls for Beaird or any other Objectivist to back their talk and produce this marvelous refutation of Hume. Of course, no such proof will ever be produced. Ironically, however, the aforementioned Michael Huemer has attempted to state the Objectivist argument in logical form. I have linked to it before, but its worth the occasional perusal. Huemer finds all of Rand's premises to be dubious for one reason or another. Nor is Huemer able to complete the chain of reasoning all the way to Rand's "man qua man." That, of course, is impossible, since it involves a palpable equivocation ("'man qua man' and 'rational' [are] fudge words" is Huemer's verdict).

Objectivism & Politics, Part 58

Ayn Rand contra Libertarianism 3. In my last two posts, I have detailed the inadequacy of Rand’s arguments against Libertarianism. Rand’s arguments are so bad that it raises questions as to her real motives in the whole business. If she had a clear, rational case against Libertarianism, wouldn’t she have presented such a case and left it at that? But she does no such thing. Instead, her arguments appear drenched in malice and petty resentment. Libertarians, she inveighs, are a “monstrous, disgusting bunch of people” who stole all their ideas from Objectivism and yet have the gall to consort with anarchists and (horror of horrors!) religious conservatives. Now if Libertarianism really is as bad as Rand would have us believe, why did Rand have to resort to name calling and illogical guilt-by-association arguments? I have several conjectures on this score, as listed below.


Conjecture 1: Logical deduction from Rand’s basic premises. Rand’s admirers would have us believe that her views of Libertarianism are merely deductions from the principles of Objectivism. From Rand’s views of history and psychology, she concluded that bad arguments do more harm than outright opposition. This being the case, Libertarians really are “worse” than Marxists and communists, because their bad arguments cause more harm to freedom and capitalism than outright opposition.

While it may be true that Rand’s hostility toward Libertarians was, in part at least, motivated by this factor, it still doesn’t explain why Rand made so many bad arguments against Libertarians. Indeed, it seems altogether anomalous. If bad arguments are worse than outright opposition, then Rand, if she were consistent, would not compound the fault by issuing bad arguments against Libertarianism. If she opposed Libertarianism because its apologists refused to provide good arguments for capitalism and freedom, she hardly did her own cause any favors by issuing even worse arguments against Libertarianism.

Conjecture 2: Vanity motive. Rand had a very high opinion of her ability to persuade people. She regarded her conviction that capitalism requires a “moral base” (i.e., that capitalism should be defended with moral arguments) as a special insight which would allow her political ideals to triumph. However, Rand struggled to find other prominent supporters of capitalism and freedom who shared this view. When Rand’s essay “Textbook of Americanism” was passed around among the donors and staff members of FEE, the first libertarian think tank, few were impressed with Rand’s arguments. One reader complained of Rand’s “illogical jargon,” while another complained that the “line of logic” which Rand used in the essay was “very weak.” [Burns, Goddess of the Market, 119] In short, even those who sympathized with Rand’s political ideals found her arguments unpersuasive. Imagine how galling that must have been to Rand that even people who shared her political convictions found her arguments unconvincing!

Perhaps, then, it was merely disappointed vanity that set Rand against libertarians. Since they refused to bow down and let her be their intellectual leader, following and agreeing with her every pronouncement, she concluded they had to be her worst enemies.

Conjecture 2: Jealousy. Perhaps Rand simply resented that some defenders of freedom and capitalism had more success or were taken more seriously than she was. In the forties, the most successful book defending freedom was Hayek’s Road to Serfdom. Rand hostility toward Hayek was immediate and vitriolic. She regarded Hayek as “pure poison” and “an example of our most pernicious enemy.” “The man is an ass,” she wrote, “[The Road to Serfdom] had no base, no moral base. This is why my book is needed.” [ibid, 104-105] This final boast suggests that Rand regarded Hayek as a rival, and that jealousy may have played a role in her overwrought denunciations of his book.

Perhaps Rand’s hatred of Libertarians was fueled, at least in part, by jealously of other intellectuals such as Rothbard, Hospers, and Nozick. Perhaps this explains her bitter contention that Libertarians were merely cheap publicity seekers. Maybe she resented that they were getting more attention than she was, or less negative attention, as the case might be.

Or perhaps Rand merely resented that Libertarians were be given credit for ideas that Rand thought she herself was responsible for. Maybe she was jealous that she wasn’t being given all or most of the credit for these ideas.

Conjecture 4: Resentment against excommunicated Objectivists. Many Libertarians were former Objectivists; a few were even close disciples of Rand. Perhaps Rand resented that Libertarian these former Objectivist apostates a safe haven.

Now which, if any, of these conjectures is true (or at least true in parts) I will leave to the reader to decide. Apologists for Rand might insist that conjectures two through four must be wrong, because Rand was incapable of vanity, jealousy, and resentment. This, however, is a rather implausible assertion difficult to find creditable. Vanity, jealousy, and resentment are emotions deep within the warp and woof of human nature. Denying these emotions on the ground that this human nature doesn't exist only encourages thinkers like Rand to ignore and repress what they really do feel, rather than confronting these troublesome emotions and taking effective psychological counter-measures against them. It is precisely those who deny human nature that are most vulnerable to its less pleasant manifestations. Rand’s claim that she didn’t have these disagreeable emotions because, after all, she was a woman of self-made soul, is no more creditable than someone denying that his or her organism produces disagreeable body odors. Ironically, it’s precisely the individual who makes such a claim who winds up stinking. The rest of us, recognizing that are bodies, if left to their own devices, will inevitably produce unpleasant odors, resort to such effective counter-measures as bathing and deodorant.

Note: this will be the last post in the current "Objectivism and Politics" series. Although there exists a great deal more territory that could be covered relating to politics, I think we have touched most of the major issues and can proceed to other areas of Rand's philosophy.

Blogrolling In Our Time

Taking a brief break from all things Randian, a shameless plug for a site my good friend Rafe Champion contributes to, criticalrationalism.net. A treasure trove of all things Popperian run by the estimable Matt Dioguardi. Also Rafe's personal site, The Rathouse, has a more arts and literature bent and is highly recommended.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 57

Ayn Rand contra Libertarianism 2. In my last post I summed up Rand’s allegations against Libertarianism as follows:

Libertarians are bad and evil because:

1. Libertarians are a “monstrous, disgusting bunch of people.”
2. Libertarians are “plagiarists” who stole Rand’s ideas without giving credit.
3. Libertarians are anarchists.
4. Libertarians are anti-intellectual collectivists, worse than Marxists.
5. Libertarians are hippies and scum and intellectual cranks.
6. Libertarians are worse than the New Left, because they want to combine anarchism with capitalism.
7. Libertarians are led by men of various persuasions, including “religious conservatives and anarchists.”
8. Libertarianism is based, in part, on “borrowed ideas.”
9. Libertarians denounce Rand when it fits their purpose.
10. Libertarians would like to have an amoral politics.
11. Libertarianism is a cheap attempt at publicity.

I examined the first five in the previous post; now let’s tackle the final six.




6. Libertarians are worse than the New Left, because they want to combine anarchism with capitalism. As with many of her allegations against Libertarianism, this one is guilty of painting a brush a mile wide. Yes, some Libertarians want to combine libertarianism with anarchism, but not all do.

Does wishing to combine capitalism with anarchism make Libertarians worse than the New Left? Why? Because, according to Rand, it is better to be consistent in a bad cause than inconsistent in a good one. This has it's basis in one of Rand's oddest prejudices—namely, that human beings are the mere pawns of the logical deductions of their most basic premises. Why this is so, Rand never explained. It is a tacit assumption, rarely recognized, let alone questioned.

To impotent ideologues whose ideas are incapable of finding realization in the world of fact, there exists no empirical consequences to serve as a check to their wildest, fact impoverished speculations. Without empirical checks, one's practical sense of things gradually dissolves away. The imagination, guided by wishful thinking, becomes king.

To practical individuals rooted in the world of fact, what is important is the empirical fruits or consequences of a specific ideology. The fact that one ideology is more consistent with its so-called "basic" premises is of little importance. What is important is the actual consequences, as read from the book of fact, of the ideology in question. On this standard, Libertarianism can hardly be considered as "worse than the New Left," even from an Objectivist viewpoint. The bad effects of Libertarianism are limited by the very fact that, beyond providing rationalizations for free trade and deregulation, the effects of Libertarianism have been negligible. The New Left, on the other hand, has been enormously influential in schools, universities, city and state government, and, since President Obama's election, in Federal government. Policies influenced by New Left ideals have led to a serious demoralization of American society that grossly outweighs whatever mischief has resulted from the Libertarian rationalizations put forth on behalf of free trade and deregulation. So the notion that Libertarians are "worse" than the New Left is not terribly plausible from the empirical point of view.

7. Libertarians are led by men of various persuasions, including “religious conservatives and anarchists.” This is a strange and even troubling allegation for Rand to make, particularly in light of all the virtuous noise she makes on behalf of individualism. Rand is upset that Libertarians (who, after all, are individualists of one stripe or another), are not, as she apparently wants them to be, merely a horde of indistinguishable ideologues, alike in all "essential" respects. There exists a central paradox at the core of Objectivism. On the one hand, Objectivism is supposed to be a philosophy of extreme, uncompromising individualism; yet on the other, it preaches an equally extreme, uncompromising form of “rational” morality, which demands a moral uniformity far more rigid and exacting than found in the worst sort of secular or theocratic totalitarian states. Even worse, Rand extended her totalitarian “rationality” to the psychological and aesthetic spheres. According to the example set by Rand, Objectivists not only had to accept all the same moral injunctions, but they also had to experience the same emotional and aesthetic reactions. And all this was done under the pretense of individualism and excused because it was voluntary!

Would Rand really have felt better about Libertarianism if it were made up of men of a single persuasion? Hardly likely. She was merely searching for any pretext at all that she could give herself for hating Libertarianism, and this was merely one that she ran across. Yet it does reveal something about her psychology that she would object to an ideological movement being made up of individuals of “various persuasions.”

8. Libertarianism is based, in part, on “borrowed ideas.” What movement isn’t based “in part,” on “borrowed ideas”? Even more troubling here, however, is the whole notion of “borrowed ideas”—as if ideas are like private property and can only be “loaned out” to those who don’t “own” the ideas. There are a very few narrowly technical or aesthetic “ideas” that may be patented or copyrighted—e.g., a poem, a software program, an industrial formula. Beyond that, no ideas can be owned or copyrighted. Philosophical and political ideas are not “owned” by their originators (and if they were, they would long ago have fallen out of copyright, since most of our philosophical and political notions were originated long ago). Once a philosopher releases an idea to the world, others may take it up and use it as they see fit. There is no question of borrowing or stealing or plagiarism or any of that kind of nonsense.

9. Libertarians denounce Rand when it fits their purpose. And why shouldn’t they denounce Rand? After all, who start the denunciations, Rand or the Libertarians? Rand despised the Libertarians right from the beginning, so there’s no point at being indignant because some libertarians despised her back. It’s little more than reciprocity.

Even more troubling is Rand's narcissistic assumption under which it is entirely appropriate for her to denounce anyone she likes yet not appropriate for anyone to denounce her in return. Rand allows herself to ignore various rules of fair play and decency, while expecting everyone to abide by these rules in their conduct toward her. Heads Rand wins, tails everyone else loses. Anyone have a problem with this? Or is this what it means to follow one's “rational” self-interest?

10. Libertarians would like to have an amoral politics. This is a rather confusing allegation. What Rand is really saying is: Libertarians do not base their political convictions, or argue on behalf of those convictions, on the basis of my morality. Rand had convinced herself that capitalism, freedom, and individualism could only be nurtured and defended on the basis of a moral system. Yet Rand’s own belief on this issue is based merely on her own say-so. Nearly everything we know from history, sociology, experimental psychology, and cognitive science testifies against it. A moral base, in practical terms, is merely those rationalizations that people put forth to spread a veneer of logic over whatever political ideology suits their economic interests and their sentimental proclivities. Since just about any rationalization will do, the specific rationalization is of little moment. Whether one defends a specific political idea on the basis of “natural” law, “right reason,” “A is A,” “divine” right,” or the thunderbolts of Zeus, it is all the same and hence makes hardly one jot of difference. To charge Libertarians with wanting an “amoral politics” is merely another way of saying Libertarians don’t care which rationalizations you put forth to defend the specific political order that Libertarians fancy. Why should a group bicker or divide over obscure doctrinal matters, when all their members ultimately want the same thing?

11. Libertarianism is a cheap attempt at publicity. And why is this a bad thing? Libertarians wish to spread ideas about liberty. How are they to do so without publicity? Or is the crux of Rand’s complaint that the publicity is “cheap”? But isn’t it rather snobbish to make such a complaint? After all, Libertarians are a mere fringe political faction, without much access to the corporate cash of the two big players in the political scene, the Republicans and the Democrats? So why shouldn’t they try get their publicity as inexpensively as possible?

As can easily be appreciated from the last two posts, Rand’s criticism of Libertarianism is grossly unfair, illogical, unmeasured and confused—mere ranting and raving with hardly a scintilla of dispassionate rational analysis over the whole course of it. How could someone as intelligent as Rand—someone, moreover, who prided herself on “reason” and not allowing one's emotions to infect one's cognition—sink so low? I shall address this question in my next post.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 56

Ayn Rand contra Libertarianism 1. Rand’s view of libertarianism speaks volumes about the Objectivist politics. When asked, “Why don’t you approve of the Libertarians, thousands of whom are loyal readers of your works?” Rand responded:

Because Libertarians are a monstrous, disgusting bunch of people: they plagiarize my ideas when that fits their purpose, and they denounce me in a more vicious manner than any communist publication, when that fits their purpose. They are lower than any pragmatists, and what they hold against Objectivism is morality. They’d like to have an amoral political program.

Here’s some of Rand’s other choice remarks about Libertarians:

All kinds of people today call themselves “libertarians,” especially something calling itself the New Right, which consists of hippies, except that they’re anarchists instead of collectivists. But of course, anarchists are collectivists.... [Libertarians] sling slogans and try to ride on two bandwagons. They want to be hippies, but don’t want to preach collectivism, because those jobs are already taken. But anarchism is a logical outgrowth of the anti-intellectual side of collectivism. I could deal with a Marxist with a greater chance of reaching some kind of understanding, and with much greater respect. The anarchist is the scum of the intellectual world of the left, which has given them up. So the right picks up another leftist discard. That’s the Libertarian movement.

[The Libertarian Party is] a cheap attempt at publicity, which Libertarians won’t get...

Further, [the Libertarian’s] leadership consists of men of every of persuasion, from religious conservatives to anarchists. Moreover, most of them are my enemies: they spend their time denouncing me, while plagiarizing my ideas. Now, I think it’s a bad beginning for an allegedly pro-capitalist party to start by stealing ideas.

Now here is a party that plagiarizes some of my ideas, mixes it with the exact opposite—with religionists, anarchists, and just about every intellectual misfit and scum they can find—and they call themselves Libertarians, and run for office.

...to form a new party based in part on half-baked ideas, and in part on borrowed ideas—I won’t say from whom—is irresponsible, and in today’s context, nearly immoral.

These remarks are so intemperate and over-the-top that it is hard not to suspect that Rand is merely looking for a pretext to despise and hate Libertarians. Summed up, here are what her allegations against Libertarianism amount to:

Libertarians are bad and evil because:

1. Libertarians are a “monstrous, disgusting bunch of people.”
2. Libertarians are “plagiarists” who stole Rand’s ideas without giving credit.
3. Libertarians are anarchists.
4. Libertarians are anti-intellectual collectivists, worse than Marxists.
5. Libertarians are hippies and scum and intellectual cranks.
6. Libertarians are worse than the New Left, because they want to combine anarchism with capitalism.
7. Libertarians are led by men of various persuasions, including “religious conservatives and anarchists.”
8. Libertarianism is based, in part, on “borrowed ideas.”
9. Libertarians denounce Rand when it fits their purpose.
10. Libertarians would like to have an amoral politics.
11. Libertarianism is a cheap attempt at publicity.

Let’s examine each of these charges one by one:

1. Libertarians are a “monstrous, disgusting bunch of people.” This is merely an ad hominem slur with no logical or objective value whatsoever: simply Rand letting off emotional steam. But for someone who prides herself on rationality and objectivity, this sort of display hardly inspires trust or admiration. It makes one, rather, suspect that Rand’s hostility to Libertarianism has its root in irrational passion.

2. Libertarians are “plagiarists” who stole Rand’s ideas without giving credit. This is a deeply problematic charge against Libertarianism, especially considering the goal of Objectivism to spread Rand’s philosophy as far as possible. If Rand were merely complaining that Libertarians misrepresented her, that would be one thing, but the fact that she actually uses the word plagiarism raises questions as to Rand’s ultimate commitments. If Rand had to choose between (1) achieving widespread influence for her ideas but not being given credit for them, or (2) never suffering plagiarism but never achieving widespread influence, which would she choose? Her bitter complaints about plagiarism suggest that she would prefer the latter, that, in other words, unless she were given credit for her ideas, she would rather her ideas had no influence at all.

There is another side to this question as well. By complaining about plagiarism, Rand is implying that ideas are the exclusive property of their originators, but this is not the case at all. In the first place, there are very few new and original ideas out there: most ideas are simply the elaborations of other ideas. There is very little in Rand’s political thinking that is altogether new. Moreover, Rand seemed to have gotten many of her ideas, both political and otherwise, from Isabel Paterson. Rand’s entire theory of history (which is very important aspect of her politics) is merely an elaboration of what she learned from Paterson. [See Goddess of the Market, 112]

3. Libertarians are anarchists. This is merely guilt by association. Some libertarians are anarchists, therefore Rand implies that all Libertarians are anarchists. Basic intellectual honesty necessitates making this obvious distinction.

4. Libertarians are anti-intellectual collectivists, worse than Marxists. Really? While it is not entirely impossible that at least a few Libertarians are anti-intellectual, the notion that Libertarians are collectivists is simply absurd. Are the Cato institute, the Reason Foundation champions of collectivsm? Are Charles Murray, Milton Friedman, Ludwig Von Mises, Friedrich von Hayek, and Robert Nozick collectivists? Rand made a number of questionable assertions during her career as a polemicist. I can’t recall anything more dubious and irresponsible than this assertion.

5. Libertarians are hippies and scum and intellectual cranks. More ad hominem chatter which reveals more about Rand than it does about Libertarianism. That she must resort to name calling reveals the poverty of her claim to be a champion of reason and rationality.

I’ll cover 6-11 in my next post.

Kiss Of Death

Yes, it sucks. That appears to be the critical verdict on the never-before-produced 1934 Rand play "Ideal", currently off-Broadway. New York Post review here, New York Times here, Backstage here.

Hat tip Michael Prescott.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 55

Ayn Rand contra Conservatism 9. In the essay “Conservatism: an Obituary,” Rand’s main complaint against conservatism centers, not on what conservatives believe, but on the arguments that conservatives put forth to defend those beliefs. In other words, Rand acknowledges that conservatives favor capitalism and freedom. Their error, in her mind, is that they defend these ideals with bad arguments, that is to say, arguments lacking the “correct” philosophical premises. However, the capitalism and freedom that conservatives favor are not identical to what Rand herself favors; and it is important to grasp what the differences are. Many conservatives fail to understand these differences; and (I suspect) Objectivists are incapable of understanding them.

Objectivists frame the difference between themselves and conservatives in terms of basic premises. Since Rand believed human character stems from ideas, ideas become paramount. Conservatives take an entirely different approach. They tend to discount alleged differences in basic premises and instead focus on the practical consequences of a specific ideology. It is facts, not opinions, results, not premises, that are of most importance to the conservative. Conservatives favor a type of freedom, a form of capitalism that works in the real world, not merely one that works according to the speculative “logic” of this or that intellectual.





In Rand, we find a type of individualism, a type of freedom, that is at odds with basic facts about the human condition. Rand posits as a moral ideal defining the relations between individuals her “Trader Principle,” which contends that “The principle of trade is the only rational ethical principle for all human relationships.” [“The Objectivist Ethics,” emphasis added]

The notion that trade can define most human relationships rests on the tacit assumption that the individual is a kind atomistic unit without any bonds or ties to the community at large which will profoundly influence his behavior. This view simply doesn’t accord with the facts of human experience. As economist Frank Knight pointed out:


...the freest individual, the unencumbered male in the prime of life, is in no real sense an ultimate unit or social datum. He is in large measure a product of the economic system, which is a fundamental part of the cultural environment that has formed his desires and needs, given him whatever marketable productive capacities he has, and which largely controls his opportunities. Social organization through free contract implies that the contracting units know what they want and are guided by their desires, that is, that they are “perfectly rational,” which would be equivalent to saying that they are accurate mechanisms of desire-satisfaction. In fact, human activity is largely impulsive, a relatively unthinking and undetermined response to stimulus and suggestion. Moreover, there is truth in the allegation that unregulated competition places a premium on deceit and corruption. [Ethics of Competition, 41-42]

Knight’s view is amplified by philosopher Richard Weaver, where the distinction between “anarchistic” individualism and “social bond” individualism is elucidated. Consider Weaver’s description of these two types of individualism:

...if we are interested in rescuing individualism in this age of conformity and actual regimentation, it is the [social bond] kind which we must seek to cultivate. Social bond individualism is civil and viable and constructive except in very abnormal situations. Anarchic individualism is revolutionary and subversive from the very start; it shows a complete despite for all that civilization or the social order has painfully created, and this out of self-righteousness or egocentric attachment to an idea…. It is charged with a lofty disdain for the human condition, not the understanding of charity. It is not Christian to accept such a view; or, if that is too narrow, it is not politically wise; or if that is too narrow, it is just not possible. Such a view ends in the extremism of nihilism. The other more tolerant and circumspect kind of individualism has enjoyed two thousand years of compatibility with institutions in the Western world and is our best hope for preserving human personality in a civil society. [The Southern Essays of Richard M. Weaver, 102-103]

Now the “anarchistic individualism” analyzed by Weaver describes, in many respects, the sort of individualism we find championed in Objectivism. In Rand and many of her disciples we find a lofty disdain for the human condition and an egocentric attachment to an idea. But does the Randian form of individualism end in the extremism of nihilism, as Weaver suggests? There is every reason to believe it would, if it ever could become universal. Objectivists benefit from the social bonds in the society around them, many of which they regard as irrational (such as the bonds defined by common law, family “duty,” social “obligations,” etc.). But if (per impossible) Objectivism became dominant in a society, many of those bonds would be dissolved. The result would be a social order in which most people (including, perhaps, many Objectivists) would not wish to live. It would be a society dominated by intellectual bullies who would use their aggressiveness and their ability to rationalize their (unconscious and unacknowledged) need for respect and status to manipulate and stomp over their weaker brethren.

Even on small scale and within the broad context of a “normal” society, Objectivism hardly inspires hope that it can solve the many problems that arise when human beings attempt to live among each other within a social order. Objectivism attempts to solve these problems by denying that they are essential and ineradicable features of the human condition. But such denials only make these problems worse. We see this all too clearly when we turn our attention to Objectivist communities that have arisen among followers of Rand's creed.

Even under the best of circumstances, when relations between human beings are governed by the wisest precepts and customs, it is difficult for individuals to handle the inevitable disagreements and conflicts that arise between them. Within the social world of Objectivism, the belief that the “rational interests of men do not clash” renders it nearly impossible for Objectivsts to settle differences amicably. Instead, sharp differences always lead to ostracization. This is how Rand’s various disputes with her disciples inevitably concluded; and it is how such disputes end among her orthodox followers.

Within the tacit social rules that govern behavior among Objectivists, there exists no sensible or wise method through which to resolve disputes. The Objectivist ideal of solving conflicts impartially via reason is simply not workable, because disputes inevitably involve clashing sentiments and desires, neither of which are amenable to “reason.” Moreover, precisely because Objectivists tend to regard all disputes as arising out of contradictory fundamental premises, personal disputes are framed as philosophical disputes involving metaphysical, epistemological, and moral arcana. Once a personal dispute has been translated and rationalized into philosophical abstractions, there is no way it can be solved for the simple reason that the abstractions conceal the real causes of the dispute. Hence, the Peikoff-Kelley split is explained by on one side as a dispute over fact and value, and by the other as a perversion of objective moral judgment. But the real reasons are probably far more complex and far more personal than anyone would be comfortable admitting.

The dangers arising from Rand’s atomistic form individualism go well beyond the unsavory conflicts and schisms that have arisen among Objectivist luminaries. In the case of Ellen Plasil, we have a chilling example of what happens in a community where the social bonds have been weakened and perverted. Plasil was an Objectivist who was sexually manipulated and abused by her “Objectivist” therapist, Lonnie Leonard. When she exposed Leonard as a fraud, the community of Objectivists either ignored her or treated her as the culprit. No one in the Objectivist community other than boyfriend stood by her. Fortunately for Plasil, the Objectivist community is only a small sliver of society: there was a larger non-Objectivist community that she could appeal to for justice and support. But where would she have turned in a society dominated by Objectivists, where Objectivists ran the courts and administered justice? Ponder that question and you will understand why most people do not want an Objectivist society and are in fact repelled by it.

Most individuals do not want to be placed in a position where they might find themselves without any social support at all. Nor do they want to find themselves at the mercy of hordes of self-absorbed atomistic individualists who rationalize all their desires and are incapable of empathizing with others. But this is precisely what tends to happen wherever atomistic individualism prevails and the social bonds are weakened. Strong familial and community bonds fostered by Weaver’s social bond individualism provide a support system which enable individuals to seek redress against the Lonnie Leonard’s of the world. The law itself is a creature of this support system and would not exist without it. But when individuals become exclusively preoccupied with their “self-interest,” the practical results of this kind of self-absorption tend to result in the type of individual who can’t be bothered with maintaining the social bonds that strengthen justice and provide the glue that holds society together. So Ellen Plasil is left to fend for herself. Indeed, in such a society, everyone would be on their own and those who could not fend for themselves would be regarded with contempt, as Plasil is among Objectivists to this day. Who would want to live in such a world? Other than individuals like Lonnie Leonard, hardly anyone. It is not a world fit for normal human beings. As the best conservative opinion has long maintained, no social system can work which is exclusively based on voluntary interaction (i.e., the “trader principle”) guided solely by short-run utilitarian ends (i.e., “rational self-interest”). Yet this is where atomistic individualism leads in practice.

Epic Fail.

Some on-set footage apparently from the forthcoming multi-part Atlas Shrugged movie:



Budget for Part 1? A totally awesome $5m.

Update: Neil Parille offers this link.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 54

Ayn Rand contra Conservatism 8. I detailed in my last post the differences between Objectivism and the Tragic Vision of non-ideological conservatism. I now examine the extent to which Rand’s philosophy accords with Sowell’s “unconstrained” vision, which Steven Pinker renamed the Utopian Vision:

In the Utopian Vision, psychological limitations are artifacts that come from our social arrangements, and we should now allow them to restrict our gaze from what is possible in a better world. Its creed might be “Some people see things as they are and ask ‘why’?; I dream things that never were and ask why not?’” The quotation is often attributed to the icon of 1960s liberalism, Robert Kennedy, but it was originally penned by Fabian socialist George Bernard Shaw (who also wrote, “There is nothing that can be changed more completely than human nature when the job is taken in hand early enough”)….

In the Utopian vision, human nature changes with social circumstances, so traditional institutions have no inherent value. That was then, this is now. Traditions are the dead hand of the past, the attempt to rule from the grave. They must be stated explicitly so their rationale can be scrutinized and their moral status evaluated. And by that test, many traditions fail….

Radical political reform … will be more or less appealing depending on one’s confidence in human intelligence and wisdom. In the Utopian Vision, solutions to social problems are readily available…. If we already know the solutions, all we have to do is choose to implement them, and that requires only sincerety and dedication. By the same logic, anyone opposing solutions must be motivated by blindness, dishonesty, and callousness. [The Blank Slate, 289-292]

While at first glance Rand may not be exactly a perfect fit for the Utopian Vision, she does have several points in common. Indeed, we could argue that she represents a unique position within the Utopian Vision fold. Whereas most Utopians tend to be collectivist in orientation, Rand swings to the other extreme, adopting an atomistic form of individualism. Another important difference is that Rand explicitly rejects the social determinism of the Utopian Left. Yet these two divergences on Rand’s part, instead of pushing her closer to the Tragic Vision, merely lead her to refashion the Utopian Vision to suit her own personal tastes. Instead of human nature changing with social circumstances, for Rand, human nature (i.e. the psychological attributes widespread and distinctive within the human species) changes via the philosophical premises that dominate society. Human beings may have free will, but, according to Rand, most people fail to make use of it. Because they don’t sufficiently focus their minds, they end up letting themselves become pawns of the dominant intellectual trends of their age. If a man refuses to think for himself, he becomes a dupe of those who do. And since the premises that are most critical in developing the character and beliefs of the individuals who make up society must ultimately have been developed by some philosopher, philosophy becomes the prime determinant of character and society. Hence, Rand shares with Utopians on the Left the belief that there exist few if any biological constraints to the development and even the direction of psychology. She simply differs with the Left on how means by which an individual’s psychology is determined.

Rand also shares the Utopian’s derision of any tradition or customary usage that can’t provide an explict rationale. Consider Rand’s take on Common Law. "Common law is good in the way witchdoctors were once good,” she once insisted: “some of their discoveries were a primitive form of medicine, and to that extent achieved something. But once a science of medicine is established, you don't return to witchdoctors. Similarly, common law established--by tradition or inertia-- some proper principles (and some dreadful ones). But once a civilization grasps the concept of law, and particularly of a constitution, common law becomes unnecessary and should not be regarded as law. In a free society, anyone can have customs; but that's not law." [Ayn Rand Answers, italics added]

Compare that to Hayek’s view of common law, as elucidated by Peter J. Boettke:

[Hayek’s] political and legal theory emphasized that the rule of law was the necessary foundation for peaceful co- existence. He contrasted the tradition of the common law with that of statute law, i.e., legislative decrees. He showed how the common law emerges, case by case, as judges apply to particular cases general rules which are themselves products of cultural evolution. Thus, he explained that embedded within the common law is knowledge gained through a long history of trial and error. This insight led Hayek to the conclusion that law, like the market, is a “spontaneous” order—the result of human action, but not of human design.

Rand’s rationalism blinds her to the wisdom and experience embedded in common law, while at the same time making her over-estimate the degree to which “reason” can figure out the complexities involved in developing the laws necessary to maintain and free and prosperous social order.

Adherents of the Utopian Vision tend to regard their those who don’t share their vision as guilty of stupidity or dishonesty. We find a correlate of this view in the Objectivist view that everyone who disagrees with them is either guilty of an “error of knowledge” or “evasion.” In practice, Objectivist tend to believe that most people who differ with them are guilty of evasion and hence are worthy of moral condemnation. Although a reasonable person might have doubts at to whether a given individual is guilty of an error of knowledge or an evasion (after all, no individual can get inside another person's head), Objectivists seem to believe that they have special powers in this arena, and don't shrink from drawing conclusions about the inner psychology even of people they hardly know. As Peikoff explained:

[Errors of knowledge] are not nearly so common as some people wish to think, especially in the field of philosophy. In our century, there have been countless mass movements dedicated to inherently dishonest ideas — e.g., Nazism, Communism, non-objective art, non-Aristotelian logic, egalitarianism, nihilism, the pragmatist cult of compromise, the Shirley MacLaine types, who “channel” with ghosts and recount their previous lives; etc. In all such cases, the ideas are not merely false; in one form or another, they represent an explicit rebellion against reason and reality (and, therefore, against man and values).… The originators, leaders and intellectual spokesmen of all such movements are necessarily evaders on a major scale; they are not merely mistaken, but are crusading irrationalists [and therefore are evil]. [“Fact and Value”]

So, in conclusion, although Rand and her philosophy of Objectivism do not perfectly accord with the sort of Utopian Vision advocated by the political Left, the similarities are more striking and important than the differences. Rand accepts the view, common to utopian leftists, that human character is malleable and perfectible; she demands a rationale for everything in law and morality, even when this is either impractical or inappropriate; and she (and her orthodox followers) tends to demonize her opponents as evil. It is no exaggeration to suggest that Objectivism, in at least some respects, dangerously veers toward the Utopian Vision.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 53

Ayn Rand contra Conservatism 7. In A Conflict of Visions, Thomas Sowell attempts to explain the underlying differences between “conservative” and “liberal,” right and left. He explicates two main visions, which Steven Pinker renamed the Tragic Vision and the Utopian Vision. These two categories of visions underlying ideological differences can help clarify the differences between Objectivism and conservatism.

Steven Pinker describes the Tragic Vision as follows:

In the Tragic Vision, humans are inherently limited in knowledge, wisdom, and virtue, and all social arrangements must acknowledge those limits. “Mortal things suit mortals best” wrote Pindar; “from the crooked timber of humanity no truly straight thing can be made,” wrote Kant. The Tragic Vision is associated with Hobbes, Burke, Smith, Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, the jurist Oliver Wendell Homes Jr., the economists Friedrich Hayek and Milton Friedman, the philosophers Isaiah Berlin and Karl Popper, and the legal scholar Richard Posner…

In the Tragic Vision, ...human nature has not changed. [Pareto: “The centuries roll by, human nature remains the same!”] Traditions such as religion, the family, social customs, sexual mores, and political institutions are a distillation of time-tested techniques that let us work around the shortcomings of human nature. They are as applicable to humans today as they were when they were developed, even if no one today can explain their rationale. However imperfect society may be, we should measure it against the cruelty and deprivation of the actual past, not the harmony and affluence of an imagined future. We are fortunate enough to live in a society that more or less works, and our first priority should be not to screw it up, because human nature always leaves us teetering on the brink of barbarism. [Blank Slate, 287]

How does Rand’s vision of human nature and the human condition compare with that projected by the Tragic Vision of conservatism? Let’s examine this in a bit more detail.


First off, Rand would probably have objected to the phrase “Tragic Vision,” which can so easily be conflated with her “malevolent universe” premise. Indeed, that would have been consistent with Rand’s typical modus operandi: she not infrequently exaggerated the views of those she disagreed with so that she could more easily dismiss them out of hand. Rand defined the malevolent universe premise as “the theory that man, by his very nature, is helpless and doomed—that success, happiness, achievement are impossible to him—that emergencies, disasters, catastrophes are the norm of his life and that his primary goal is to combat them.” Now that is clearly an exaggeration of the Tragic Vision, which merely asserts that things can go very wrong when men lose their sense of the dangers and challenges that threaten them. In the Tragic Vision, life is a struggle against evil, stupidity, arrogance, vanity, and all the other ills that flesh is heir to; yet it is a struggle that can be waged with at least a moderate degree of success.

What about the view that human knowledge faces limits? While Rand recognized some limits to human knowledge (e.g., she recognized that human beings are not omniscient), she tended to regard any insistence on such limits as an attack against man’s mind. Moreover, there is a strain of rationalism in Rand that is entirely foreign to representatives of the Tragic Vision such as Hume, Burke, Hayek, Polanyi, and Oakeshott. Rand insists on knowing the rationale for everything in society. No tradition has any worth whatsoever in her mind unless it can defend itself on the basis of “reason.” The notion that some things are too complicated to be understood by “reason” is entirely foreign to her. So on this issue Rand clearly finds herself diametrically opposed to the Tragic Vision.

Because the Tragic Vision recognizes the limitations of human knowledge, it adopts a more cautious, pragmatic approach to political questions. Whereas Rand simply declares, ex cathedra, against any initiation of coercion (which, in her mind, includes such things as involuntary taxation and military conscription), the Tragic Vision recognizes the danger of trying to make a very broad principle fit each and every circumstance that might confront a nation. As Burke put it: “The nature of man is intricate; the objects of society are of the greatest possible complexity; and therefore no simple disposition or direction of power can be suitable either to man's nature, or to the quality of his affairs.” So once again we find Rand and her philosophy at odds with the Tragic Vision.

What about the issue of the permanence of human nature? Given Rand’s repeated mantra “A is A,” isn’t it obvious that she shares the belief that human nature is fixed? After all, wasn’t it Rand who insisted that “you are not free to escape from your nature.” However, there is a large dose of equivocation in all of this, of playing fast and loose with the meanings of words. Rand defines human nature in terms of its impermanence. Human nature, for Rand, means having a “volitional consciousness.” By this phrase, Rand is not merely noting the capability of choosing, say, between chocolate and strawberry ice cream. No, human beings have the ability, according to Rand, of actually choosing their fundamental character. (Man is a being of "self-made soul.") What is innate in man is not his characteristics, nor his personality, nor his deepest sentiments, but his capacity for having characteristics. Men are a product of their premises; and they may choose which premises they please. So for all practical purposes, Rand does not believe that human nature fixed. The crooked timber of humanity can be made straight—provided humanity adopts better premises!

What about the conviction, share by those who partake of the Tragic vision, that our first priority is not to screw up and make things worse? While Rand may not have been entirely unsympathetic with this fear, she tended to frame the issue very differently. Rand was fond of viewing society through the prism of her novel, Atlas Shrugged, in which society's lapse into barbarism serves as a kind of purge, opening the way for a new social order dominated by Rand's political preference and her peculiar brand of heroism. So while Rand might have agreed that society can easily slip into barbarism, she appears to have been much more sanguine about the prospects of putting it back together again. Since all that matters is what premises people believed, and since individuals were free to choose any premises they like, there is always hope that society can be “saved.” “Ideas take time to spread,” Rand once wrote, “but we will only have to wait decades [for our ideas to triumph]—because reason and reality are on our side." [Letters of Ayn Rand, 596] Such wishful thinking does not accord well with the Tragic Vision.

So in conclusion: it would appear that Rand’s Objectivist philosophy cannot, in any meaningful sense of the word, be reconciled with the Tragic Vision. Yet if Rand is not a partaker of the Tragic Vision, does this mean she partakes of the Utopian Vision? That will be a question addressed in my next post.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 52

Ayn Rand contra Conservatism 6. Rand, in her essay '“Conservatism: an Obituary” attacks what she calls the “argument from depravity.” Part of her attack involves a curious distortion of the so-called conservative argument, where she draws out a presumed implication of the argument which no conservative would ever endorse. “Please grasp fully the implications of this argument,” abjures Rand: “since men are depraved, they are not good enough for a dictatorship; freedom is all that they deserve; if they were perfect, they would be worthy of a totalitarian state.

Now no conservative has ever said anything of the kind, and it is hard to imagine that any ever would. Nor does the conservative argument imply such a thing. There is a conservative (and classical liberal) argument that goes something as follows: that whatever annoyances or defects that can sometimes be associated with representative institutions and a government by checks and balances, these annoyances are a small price to pay for the dangers associated with dictatorship and tyranny. Conservatives accept Lord Acton’s dictum that power corrupts and that absolute power corrupts absolutely. From this tenuous strand, Rand attempts to weave her claim that conservatives believe, or at least imply, that people are not good enough for dictatorship.

If conservatism really implied such an absurdity, you would expect more critics of conservatism to have made the charge. But Rand is the only one to have ever made it. She backs it with no quotes from any conservative and, as far as I know, never made the charge again, nor did she ever make it a venue where she could have been challenged by an articulate conservative.

What makes Rand’s distortion particularly appalling is that for years she was involved conservative movement, talking with and exchanging correspondence with conservative intellectuals such as Isabel Patterson, Channing Pollock, and Ruth Alexander. She was in a position to know better. Hence, it is difficult not to suspect an element of dishonesty, or at least evasion, in Rand’s accusations. If Rand had been passionately committed to honesty and fair practice, she would not have distorted the conservative argument as egregiously as she did here. This is yet another example of Rand making a great deal of virtuous noise about not engaging in behavior X, and yet wallowing in behavior X all the same. Despite all her histrionic denuciations of dishonesty and evasion, here we find her evading and spewing mendacity with the best of them.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 51

Ayn Rand contra Conservatism 5. Rand, in her essay “Conservatism: an Obituary,” contends that “there are three interrelated arguments used by today’s “conservatives” to justify capitalism, which can best be designated as: the argument from faith—the argument from tradition—the argument from depravity.”

In my last post, I examined Rand’s attack on the argument from tradition. Now we’ll take a look at her attack on the argument from depravity:

This leads us to the third—and the worst—argument, used by some “conservatives”: the attempt to defend capitalism on the ground of man’s depravity.

This argument runs as follows: since men are weak, fallible, non-omniscient and innately depraved, no man may be entrusted with the responsibility of being a dictator and of ruling everybody else; therefore, a free society is the proper way of life for imperfect creatures. Please grasp fully the implications of this argument: since men are depraved, they are not good enough for a dictatorship; freedom is all that they deserve; if they were perfect, they would be worthy of a totalitarian state.

Dictatorship—this theory asserts—believe it or not, is the result of faith in man and in man’s goodness; if people believed that man is depraved by nature, they would not entrust a dictator with power. This means that a belief in human depravity protects human freedom—that it is wrong to enslave the depraved, but would be right to enslave the virtuous. And more: dictatorships—this theory declares—and all the other disasters of the modern world are man’s punishment for the sin of relying on his intellect and of attempting to improve his life on earth by seeking to devise a perfect political system and to establish a rational society. This means that humility, passivity, lethargic resignation and a belief in Original Sin are the bulwarks of capitalism. One could not go farther than this in historical, political, and psychological ignorance or subversion. This is truly the voice of the Dark Ages rising again—in the midst of our industrial civilization.

The cynical, man-hating advocates of this theory sneer at all ideals, scoff at all human aspirations and deride all attempts to improve men’s existence. “You can’t change human nature,” is their stock answer to the socialists. Thus they concede that socialism is the ideal, but human nature is unworthy of it; after which, they invite men to crusade for capitalism—a crusade one would have to start by spitting in one’s own face. Who will fight and die to defend his status as a miserable sinner? If, as a result of such theories, people become contemptuous of “conservatism,” do not wonder and do not ascribe it to the cleverness of the socialists.

This passage constitutes one of the most embarrassing assemblage of words one is likely to find in all of Rand’s writings. It distorts and mauls the conservative arguments beyond recognition. It demonstrates that when it came to representing ideas and views she disagreed with, Rand suffered from a severe case of narcissism. She was extremely sensitive to any perceived distortions of her own views, but showed no such sensitivity towards others.

In the passage quotes above, Rand actually conflates two different conservative arguments: (1) the argument behind the U.S. constitution explicated by James Madison in the Federalist Papers; and (2) the argument against an enlightened dictator.

1. Madison’s argument. Let us begin by dismissing Rand’s first serious distortion. Rand claims that conservatives regard human beings as “innately depraved.” While there may be a handful of eccentrics who hold that belief, that is not the belief of most conservatives. Consider the following from James Madison:

As there is a degree of depravity in man [“degree” of depravity! Please consider this distinction!] which requires a degree of circumspection and distrust, so there are other qualities in human nature which justify a certain portion of esteem and confidence. [Human beings are not all bad, they are not completely depraved, they have both good and bad in them!] Republican government presupposes the existence of these qualities in a higher degree than any other form. [That is to say, free institutions depend on the better qualities of human nature—which goes against Rand’s caricature of the conservative argument!] Were the pictures which have been drawn by the political jealousy of some among us faithful likenesses of the human character, the inference would be, that there is not sufficient virtue among men for self-government; and that nothing less than the chains of despotism can restrain them from destroying and devouring one another. [Federalist 55]

Madison admitted the mixed character of human nature. While free institutions must rely on the good qualities in men, they also must reckon with the bad qualities, since both exist! Hence the theory behind “checks and balances.”

In Federalist #10, Madison begins by noting that man are by nature given to faction:

The latent causes of faction are ... sown in the nature of man; and we see them everywhere brought into different degrees of activity, according to the different circumstances of civil society. A zeal for different opinions concerning religion, concerning government, and many other points, as well of speculation as of practice; an attachment to different leaders ambitiously contending for pre-eminence and power; or to persons of other descriptions whose fortunes have been interesting to the human passions, have, in turn, divided mankind into parties, inflamed them with mutual animosity, and rendered them much more disposed to vex and oppress each other than to co-operate for their common good. So strong is this propensity of mankind to fall into mutual animosities, that where no substantial occasion presents itself, the most frivolous and fanciful distinctions have been sufficient to kindle their unfriendly passions and excite their most violent conflicts. But the most common and durable source of factions has been the various and unequal distribution of property. Those who hold and those who are without property have ever formed distinct interests in society. Those who are creditors, and those who are debtors, fall under a like discrimination. A landed interest, a manufacturing interest, a mercantile interest, a moneyed interest, with many lesser interests, grow up of necessity in civilized nations, and divide them into different classes, actuated by different sentiments and views. The regulation of these various and interfering interests forms the principal task of modern legislation, and involves the spirit of party and faction in the necessary and ordinary operations of the government.

This view of human nature, held by nearly all of the Founding Fathers, is incompatible with Rand’s view. Yet it is the view behind the theory of checks and balances in the Constitution—which, in this sense, is not a document that is philosophically compatible with Objectivism. In Federalist #51, Madison lays out this theory of checks and balances:

But the great security against a gradual concentration of the several powers in the same department, consists in giving to those who administer each department the necessary constitutional means and personal motives to resist encroachments of the others. The provision for defense must in this, as in all other cases, be made commensurate to the danger of attack. Ambition must be made to counteract ambition. The interest of the man must be connected with the constitutional rights of the place. It may be a reflection on human nature, that such devices should be necessary to control the abuses of government. But what is government itself, but the greatest of all reflections on human nature? If men were angels, no government would be necessary. If angels were to govern men, neither external nor internal controls on government would be necessary. In framing a government which is to be administered by men over men, the great difficulty lies in this: you must first enable the government to control the governed; and in the next place oblige it to control itself. A dependence on the people is, no doubt, the primary control on the government; but experience has taught mankind the necessity of auxiliary precautions.

This policy of supplying, by opposite and rival interests, the defect of better motives, might be traced through the whole system of human affairs, private as well as public. We see it particularly displayed in all the subordinate distributions of power, where the constant aim is to divide and arrange the several offices in such a manner as that each may be a check on the other -- that the private interest of every individual may be a sentinel over the public rights.

Rand tended to think favorably of the Founding Fathers; but they held what, for all intents and purposes, is the conservative view of human nature which she so violently opposes. In this conservative view, human beings are not (despite Rand's mendacious distortions) entirely depraved or wicked, but merely “imperfect,” limited, flawed. Conservatives like Burke, Hamilton, Madison (in his Federalist Papers phase), Adam Smith, Hume, Mosca based their views of human nature not on wishful thinking or philosophical speculation, but on a careful study of history. As Hamilton puts it in the Federalist #75: “The history of human conduct does not warrant that exalted opinion of human virtue which would make it wise in a nation to commit interests of so delicate and momentous a kind [to one man].”

2. Argument against an enlightened dictator. I’ll examine Rand’s confusions concerning this argument in my next post.

Objectivism & Politics, Part 50

Ayn Rand contra Conservatism 4. Rand, in her essay “Conservatism: an Obituary,” contends that “there are three interrelated arguments used by today’s “conservatives” to justify capitalism, which can best be designated as: the argument from faith—the argument from tradition—the argument from depravity.”

In my last post, I examined Rand’s attack on the argument from faith. Now we’ll take a look at her attack on the argument from tradition:

Now consider the second argument: the attempt to justify capitalism on the ground of tradition. Certain groups are trying to switch the word “conservative” into the exact opposite of its modern American usage, to switch it back to its nineteenth-century meaning, and to put this over on the public. These groups declare that to be a “conservative” means to uphold the status quo, the given, the established, regardless of what it might be, regardless of whether it is good or bad, right or wrong, defensible or indefensible. They declare that we must defend the American political system not because it is right, but because our ancestors chose it, not because it is good, but because it is old . . . .

The argument that we must respect “tradition” as such, respect it merely because it is a “tradition,” means that we must accept the values other men have chosen, merely because other men have chosen them—with the necessary implication of: who are we to change them? The affront to a man’s self-esteem, in such an argument, and the profound contempt for man’s nature are obvious.

Once again, Rand displays her ignorance of conservatism. Conservatives like Burke don’t respect tradition merely because it is “tradition.” What they revere is the long experience that is encapsulated in tradition. As Burke pointed out, the “science of government” is “a matter which requires experience, and even more experience than any person can gain in his whole life, however sagacious and observing he may be.” Hayek amplifies this point as follows:

The esteem for tradition and customs, of grown institutions, and of rules whose origin and rationale we do not know does not, of course, mean—as Thomas Jefferson believe with a characteristic rationalist misconception—that we “ascribe to men of the preceding age a wisdom more than human, and … suppose they did beyond amendment.” Far from assuming that those who created institutions were wiser than we are, the evolutionary [i.e., conservative] view is based on the insight that the result of experimentation of many generations may embody more experience than one man possesses.

One of the central differences between Objectivism and the conservatism of Burke and Hayek is a different conception of knowledge. Rand emphasizes explicit knowledge derived from deliberate conscious reasoning. Conservatives would regard this view as naive. Society, the human condition, politics are far too complex to be mastered by any one individual, no matter well endowed intellectually. As Hayek explained:

We understand one another and get along with one another, are able to act successfully on our plans, because, most of the time, members of our civilization conform to unconscious patterns of conduct, show a regularity in their actions that is not the result of commands or coercion, often not even of any conscious adherence to known rules, but of firmly established habits and traditions. The general observance of these conventions is a necessary condition of the orderliness of the world in which we live, of our being able to find our way in it, though we do not know their significance and may not even be consciously aware of their existence…. It is indeed a truth, which all the great apostles of freedom outside the rationalistic school have never tired of emphasizing, that freedom has never worked without deeply ingrained moral beliefs and that coercion can be reduced to a minimum only where individuals can be expected as a rule to conform voluntarily to certain principles….

It is this submission to undesigned rules and conventions whose significance and importance we largely do not understand, this reverence for the traditional, that the rationalistic type of mind [like Rand] finds so uncongenial, though it is indispensable for the working of a free society. It has its foundation in the insight which David Hume stressed and which is of decisive importance for the antirationalist, evolutionary tradition—namely, that “the rules of morality are not the conclusions of our reason.” Like all other values, our morals are not a product but a presupposition of reason, part of the ends which the instrument of our intellect has been developed to serve. At any one stage of evolution, the system of values into which we are born supplies the ends which our reason must serve. This givenness of the value framework implies that, although we must always strive to improve our institutions, we can never aim to remake them as a whole and that, in our efforts to improve them, we must take for granted much that we do not understand…. In particular, we can never synthetically construct a new body of moral rules or make our obedience of the known rules dependent on our comprehension of the implications of this obedience in a given instance….

There are good reasons why any person who wants to live and act successfully in society must accept many common beliefs, though the value of these reasons may have little to do with their demonstrable truth. Such beliefs will also be based on some past experience but not on experience for which anyone can produce the evidence. The scientist, when asked to accept a generalization in his field, is of course entitled to ask for the evidence on which it is based. Many of the beliefs which in the past expressed the accumulated experience of the race have been disproved in this manner. This does not mean, however, that we can reach the stage where we can dispense with all beliefs for which such evidence is lacking. Experience comes to man in many more forms than are commonly recognized by the professional experimenter or the seeker after explicit knowledge. We would destroy the foundations of much successful action if we disdained to rely on ways of doing things evolved by the process of trial and error simply because the reason for their adoption has not been handed down to us. The appropriateness of our conduct is not necessarily dependent on knowing why it is so….

Rand operates in the rationalist tradition in which everything has to be consciuosly explained and explicitly justified. This is the tradition that dominated the Old Left and provided some of the rationalizations for various left-wing political schemes, including those that led to the Reign of Terror during the French Revolution and the horrors of the Soviet Union. Rand is unique in that she tried to justify capitalism and freedom using the same sort of rationalistic assumptions accepted by the Old Left. She insisted, just like so many of the so-called “scientific” socialists and progressives of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, that everything in the political and moral realms had to be explicity justified on the basis of “reason.” But whether used to provide the rationalistic justification of socialism, capitalism, or any other ism that a febrile imagination can dream up, all such rationalisms amount to the same thing: incapacity in the face of the complexities of the human condition. Reverence for tradition is, for the intelligent, non-ideological conservative, merely a tool used to compliment less tacit forms of knowledge, such as science and individual experience. Traditional usages often have proven their worth over time, and should not be tossed out merely become some rationalist fails to explain it by “reason.” The conservative proceeds cautiously when reforming a tradition, because he knows, from long experience, how easy it is to make things worse, and that when faced with any daunting complexity, sheer trial and error is often a far better guide than the so-called “reason” of conceited intellectuals.