Ayn Rand's Objectivism and Critique of "The Fountainhead"

Quoting Ayn (rhymes with 'fine) Rand,

"My philosophy, Objectivism, holds that:

1. Reality exists as an objective absolute—facts are facts, independent of man's feelings, wishes, hopes or fears. (Ahhh.... but "there are no facts only interpretations" (Nietzsche) and are prone to individual perception. Because we are all the summation of our own experiences as individuals, we thus all have a differing basis for how we see the world and thus interpretations of how we see reality. If a small shift in the way one sees the world can change the entire atmosphere in which one exists, then while in an empirical sense facts are facts, (2+2=4, water freezes at 0 Celsius, we need air to breathe) this is true only if there exists ONLY the physical and nothing else. I believe it is naive (and sad) to think that nothing exists beyond our physical perceptions. Something within us rejects this, our essence thrashes violently against there being JUST THIS (well mine does, anyway). Besides, if facts are facts and there exists nothing but strict, suffocating empirical laws or rules that nature must follow, where lies the freedom for the divine creativity that exists within each human being and transcends material reality?)
   
2. Reason (the faculty which identifies and integrates the material provided by man's senses) is man's only means of perceiving reality, his only source of knowledge, his only guide to action, and his basic means of survival. (Bullshit...while reason is the only means we have of perceiving material reality, there is yet another reality. You all know what I'm talking about. There is this inherent 'sense' that we have, call it intuition, that there is a world that exists and is quite real that is beyond the world of what we see here, beyond the physical. If all of us truly define reality based on our 5 senses only, it implies that we should all see reality in the exact same way. And we know this just isn't true)
3. Man—every man—is an end in himself, not the means to the ends of others. He must exist for his own sake, neither sacrificing himself to others nor sacrificing others to himself. The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life. ( Ayn Rand could not tolerate personal sacrifice for any reason. Nietzsche seemed to be able to give meaning to his sacrifices, some of which were voluntary, others not. While I agree that a certain level of self-interest is essential, the most valuable self-interest comes from a kind of spiritual introspection, and not mere rationality. If I had been a rational person all my life, I would not know myself as I do now, and perhaps I would have been 'rational' enough to take my own life when the choice had entered into consideration (when it certainly seemed the logical thing to do). Sometimes if I had not been determined to exist for something that was beyond myself, I wouldn't be writing this today. I believe that to live a fulfilling life, certain insights and growth can only come from sacrifice, not of the whole but of parts, and not eternally, just for a time. Ms. Rand is too rigid in her thinking. She only saw the negativity of sacrifice and could not see beyond it.)
   
4. The ideal political-economic system is laissez-faire capitalism. It is a system where men deal with one another, not as victims and executioners, nor as masters and slaves, but as traders, by free, voluntary exchange to mutual benefit. It is a system where no man may obtain any values from others by resorting to physical force, and no man may initiate the use of physical force against others. The government acts only as a policeman that protects man's rights; it uses physical force only in retaliation and only against those who initiate its use, such as criminals or foreign invaders. In a system of full capitalism, there should be (but, historically, has not yet been) a complete separation of state and economics, in the same way and for the same reasons as the separation of state and church." (With all Rand's talk of facts being facts, she sure missed some big ones. While her vision of laissez-faire (to let be or leave alone or unregulated) capitalism is idealistic, this is not reality. What happens instead is a handful of masters controlling the mass of slaves, who must sell their labour power to capitalists whose only goal is to accumulate more capital. It is not a voluntary exchange...workers need to work to earn the means to subsistence. Because she doesn't see a reality beyond the physical, she also doesn't see that there can be a force beyond the physical. If she would have read Machiavelli, she would know that there are many ways to manipulate others to do as one wishes, i.e. emotionally, mentally, financially, etc. She sees those who retaliate against authority as "criminals or foreign invaders" not recognizing an inherent right to disagree with one's government and to not blindly accept authority just because the laws say we must. However, after giving much thought to her view on the seperation of the state and economics as well as the state and church, I have come to the conclusion that I agree with her on this point. While the economic situation as to a global financial 'even-groundedness' is a good idea, this, as well as matters of religion, are individual matters and the government should stay clear of the private matters that affect only the individual. I deem that religious choice and financial status are such matters.
   

So this is my critique of Ayn Rand's Objectivism.

While my opinions of Ms. Rand's philosophy is lacking much concurrence, I did enjoy her book "The Fountainhead". Her perspective on the love that was shared by Roark and Dominique was both unique and intense. While neither sacrificed themselves to their common bond, they found meaning in the self-imposed suffering that separated them.

"She tried to tear herself away from him. The effort broke against his arms that had not felt it. Her fists beat against his shoulders, against his face. He moved one hand, took her two wrists, pinned them behind her, under his arm, wrenching her shoulder blades. She twisted her head back. She felt his lips on her breast. She tore herself free.
She fell back against the dressing table, she stood crouching, her hands clasping the edge behind her, her eyes wide, colorless, shapeless in terror. He was laughing. There was the movement of laughter on his face, but no sounds. Perhaps he had released her intentionally. He stood, his legs apart, his arms hanging at his sides, letting her be more sharply aware of his body across the spcae between them then she had been in his arms. She looked at the door behind him, he saw the first hint of movement, no more than a thought of leaping toward that door. He extended his arm, not touching her, and fell back. Her shoulders moved faintly, rising. He took a step forward and her shoulders fell. She huddled lower, closer to the table. He let her wait. Then he approached. He lifted her without effort. She let her teeth sink into his hand and felt blood on the tip of her tongue. He pulled her head back abd he forced her open mouth against his.
She fought like an animal. But she made no sound. She did not call for help. She heard the echoes of her blows in a gasp of his breath, and she knew it was a gasp of pleasure. She reached for the lamp on the dressing table. He knocked the lamp out of her hand. The crystal burst to pieces in the darkness.
He had thrown her down on the bed and she felt the blood beating in her throat, in her eyes, the hatred, the helpless terror in her blood. She felt the hatred and his hands; his hands moving over her body, the hands that broke granite. She fought in a last convulsion. Then the sudden pain shot up, through her body, to her throat, and she screamed. Then she lay still.
It was an act that could be performed in tenderness, as a seal of love, or in contempt, as a symbol of humiliation of conquest. It could be the act of a lover or the act of a soldier violating an enemy woman. He did it as an act of scorn. Not as love, but as defilement. And this made her lie still and submit. One gesture of tenderness from him -and she would have remained cold, untouched by the thing done to her body. But the act of the master taking shameful, contemptuous possession of her was the kind of rapture she wanted. Then she felt the shaking with the agony of a pleasure unbearable even to him, she knew that she had given that to him, that it came from her, from her body, and she bit her lips and she knew what he had wanted her to know." (pages 216-217)

"I don't know which is the greater strength: to accept all this for you - or to love you so much that the rest is beyond acceptance. I don't know."

....The contrast is too great. Roark, you can't win, they'll destroy you, but I won't be there to see it happen. I'll have destroyed myself first. That's the only gesture of protest open to me. What else could I offer you?

...Wait. Let me finish. You could ask, why not kill myself then. Because I love you. Because you exist. That alone is so much that it won't allow me to die. And since I must be alive in order to know that you are, I will live in the world as it is, in the manner of life it demands. Not halfway, but completely. Not pleading and running from it, but walking out to meet it, beating it to the pain and the ugliness, being the first to choose the worst it can do to me. Not as the wife of some half-decent human being, but as the wife of Peter Keating. And only within my own mind, only where nothing can touch it, kept sacred by the protecting wall of my own degradation, there will be the thought of you and the knowledge of you, and I shall say 'Howard Roark' to myself once in a while, and I shall feel that I have deserved to say it." (page 375-376)


But in the end...

"She slipped down, to sit on the floor, her elbows propped on his knees, she looked up at him and smiled, she knew that she could not have reached this white serenity except as the sum of all colors, of all the violence she had known. "Howard...willingly, completely and always...without reservations, without fear of anything they can do to you or me...in any way you wish...as your wife or mistress, secretly or openly...here, or in a furnished room I'll take in some town near a jail where I'll see you through a wire net...it won't matter...You've won long ago...I'll remain what I am, and I'll remain with you -now and ever - in any way you want." (page 667)

Beautiful.

In closing, let it be said that while I disagree with Rand's philosophy of Objectivism (and can now see how she differs from Nietzsche in almost every way through a system of faulty logic), she does deserve some credit for her magnificent story of the love between Roark and Dominique, as well as the love these individuals had for themselves and the strength they had to allow their convictions almost completely destroy them because of it.