Monday, May 16, 2011

Atlas Shrugged, Part 6

Rand gives expression to a moral basis of democratic capitalism in Atlas Shrugged. In the process, she identifies various vices to which democracy might submit. Let me see if I can summarize it.

A definite virtue is the heroic and creative individual. “The public” and “the common good” rely upon these individuals. The vice of democracy is that it runs the risk of not valuing what these individuals do by electing people to government who suppress individuality in favor of “the common good.” Society benefits from the passions and interests of business people far more than experience oppression. The greatest vice is that democracy will squash excellence and courage in pursuing what one loves to do because it focuses on the individual in a way that supposedly harms the collective or community spirit. Someone pursuing a dream, and using private property to achieve that dream, is a virtue. The contrasting vice is viewing such a person as “anti-social.” The result of the success of this vice is that “the people” become serfs of the federal government.
I need to add one caveat to the way Rand discusses this virtue. In capitalism, communal spirit is more of a virtue than in socialism, for in socialism, there is “looting” and compulsion. In democratic capitalism, people freely engage in communal efforts. Thus, I am not aware of anywhere in this book were she celebrates the type of communal spirit that capitalism itself requires. Employees need to learn to work with producers, producers must find a good or service that meets a need of potential customers, the creative individual needs to imagine what others might need or desire, and all must work together to accomplish great goals. In that sense, capitalism is intensely communal, and therefore Rand suffers from a fault of many defenders of capitalism, who often do a disservice by making capitalism sound far more selfish and individualist than it is.
Closely connected, I need to offer another caveat. She criticizes the praise of non-profit ventures, and all religion, under the guise that it detracts from both morality and self-esteem. Yet, properly understood, people freely give money to and support such “non-profits,” and they do so largely because they have a concern for both the morality and self-esteem of some members of this free society who have not been able to discover the hero who lives within. I get the concern that some will lift non-profit enterprises above that of profit, but I think she goes too far. Such efforts enhance important communal qualities of mercy and compassion that Rand rarely sees as significant or positive.
A virtue is profit and competition. Businesses need to make a profit. Extremely successful businesses make much profit for their investors. Yes, they also employ thousands of people. Yet, that is not their purpose. Yes, they can improve the life of the community. Yet, that is not the purpose of the business. It must make a profit, or it will die. Profit is the bottom line, even if it is not the only factor in making a business decision.
The greatest vice in a democracy is the growth of government into the business sector as it harms productivity and takes energy away from where one could place it far more effectively.
A virtue is private property. A vice occurs when a society puts free enterprise on trial. Thus, to suggest that private property must serve the public is another way of surrendering individual initiative and property to a collective mentality, which will in turn destroy “the people” and “the common good.”
A virtue is wealthy people. They earn income by pleasing others with their product or service. A vice is any group of people or government duly elected by the people who considers wealthy people as evil. The danger to society is that wealthy people will choose not to harm or exploit any longer … and abandon society to mediocrity.
A vice that threatens the common good, doing so in the name of the common good, is that elected representatives will crush individual initiative, thereby destroying the public that they claim to serve. Such elected representatives become “The looters” of the world, those in government who take the wealth of citizens and appropriate it as they see fit.
A virtue is recognizing the value of machines, while the vice is thinking it noble to return to an age when there were fewer of them.  
A virtue is valuing living well and happily on this earth, and therefore finding ways to improve human life on this planet. Happiness is a successful state of life. Rand hints at the purpose of business and government. It is actually quite in line with Aristotle. We want to learn of ways to live well and happily here. We will do this by celebrating heroic individuals, the motor that powers society along. We will not submit to the vice of laying a burden upon those who do so.  
A virtue is the human mind, which is the source of wealth and productivity. The mind is a basic human tool for survival. To think and reason is a choice. In this context, money has its proper place. Money is simply a tool of exchange, which cannot exist unless there are goods produced and people able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that people who wish to deal with each other must deal by trade and give value for value. Money becomes possible because people produce things useful to other people. Wealth is the product of the human capacity to think. A vice related to this is the one who damns money. This person has obtained it dishonorably. People who respect money have earned it.
A vice would be to become “worshippers of the zero,” those who want to just barely live, rather than achieving life.
A vice is living off the effort of others, rather than your own effort. The sacrifice for “the public” turns “the public” into anyone who has failed to achieve.
There is a “moral arrangement” of the economy. Any arrangement that distorts value eventually leads to the destruction of productivity. Thus, a significant vice are moochers, people who try to get your money by tears. Of course, another vice are looters, those in government who take money by force. A significant vice is that if I choose to live off government aid, I am choosing to ask other people to provide for my life and sustenance. Another significant vice is in the political culture, in which you have a philosophy of government that encourages some segments of society to be moochers. This is a vice because you are encouraging people to make an immoral choice.
A virtue is recognizing that the producers of the world already served “the public” by sharing the products of their thinking, expecting a rational return. They have already “served” and “returned back to the community,” simply by achieving their lives, which has overflown toward others with work and enjoyment. He states that “the looters’ state” will collapse, because it is deprived of its best slaves, namely, the producers.
A virtue is recognizing that the only proper purpose of a government is to protect the rights of individuals, which primarily means from physical violence. Government needs only the police, the army, and the courts. Today, of course, with massive entitlement programs, this is hardly realistic, but it is a reminder of what the constitution says concerning the enumerated powers of government.
John Galt urges in his final speech, “Do not let the hero in your soul perish.” I hope that even the most ardent opponent of Rand could agree with this. 

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Atlas Shrugged, Part 5

A democracy requires of its citizens to give some thoughtful reflection to the nature and role of government. Citizens will do so at varying levels. Various authors will influence us in certain directions. My path toward a limited role of government, and therefore less taxation and regulation, was primarily through William F. Buckley, the National Review, Thomas Sowell, Walter Williams and Milton Friedman. I have found other authors who largely support this vision: F. A. Hayek, Robert Nozick, George Gilder, John Kekes, Michael Oakeshott, and Amity Shlaes. In history, I have found The Federalist Papers, The Declaration of Independence, The Constitution, John Locke, Edmund Burke, Adam Smith, and Alexis de Tocqueville (especially Democracy in America, the final “book,” of particular interest to me.
I still find Gary Moore disturbing in his approach to Ayn Rand. In his article rejecting the support Cal Thomas offers to the movie Atlas Shrugged, he still thinks it “syncretism” to find any value in the movie or the book. Apparently, our email exchanges did not persuade him. He thinks that the evangelical and politically conservative are too stupid to read Rand, appreciate the critique of a government that the people elect which actually reduces freedom, and yet reject the atheism and selfishness inherent in her entire philosophy. His analogy between the adherence of the political Left to Marx and the adherence of the political Right to Rand simply does not hold. In fact, most people on the political Right are not either libertarians or adherents of Rand. Yet, most people on the Left today are adherents of a Marxist critique of Western Civilization. Moore is wrong in his analogy, and I would argue that he has certainly not focused his energy properly in terms of prospective danger to Christians in the political arena. I would argue that a far greater danger lays for Christians who, unknowingly, adopt a Marxist critique of the West, than of people who will become, unknowingly, Randians. In fact, to become genuinely Randian, it will have to be intentional, while one can become Marxist in perspective without having studied Marx, simply because his critique of the West is so pervasive among Left authors. It does not take long, for example, to the Marxist influence upon Jim Wallis, leader of the evangelical Left, but you must read Marx to see it, for he does not tell you that is what he is doing. The agenda of Moore becomes clear at the end. He paints her as a follower of Nietzsche, which I assume is to make Christians run away from Rand. After all, outside of Marx, few authors stir up negative connotations, as does Nietzsche. He expresses his disgust with Reagan (he does not mention him by name), Greenspan, and Paul Ryan. As Ryan points out, what attracts him is her moral defense of democratic capitalism. This statement hardly qualifies him as the devotee that he claims Ryan is. In fact, what Moore has done is swallow the Political Left blogs on this. In my opinion, Moore ought to quit hiding his love for big government. He explicitly agrees with the Marxist critique of capitalism. From what I can read of Moore, his reason for not wanting people to read Rand is that she has offered a graphic picture of what de Tocqueville warned, namely, that the people could vote away their freedom.
Another critic of the movie and of Rand is Michael Gerson (April 22, 2011), who thinks that reaction to Rand draws a line in political theory. Some believe with Rand that all government is coercion and theft -- the tearing down of the strong for the benefit of the undeserving. Others believe that government has a limited but noble role in helping the most vulnerable in society -- not motivated by egalitarianism, which is destructive, but by compassion, which is human. Some root this duty in God's particular concern for the vulnerable and undeserving, which eventually includes us all. To be clear, I think Gerson has accurately described the distinction between followers of Rand and those who are politically conservative. He goes too far in thinking of Rand as viewing all government as coercive, but his point is well taken.
As Gerson sees it, many libertarians trace their inspiration to Rand's novels, while sometimes distancing themselves from Objectivism. Nevertheless, both libertarians and Objectivists are moved by the mania of a single idea -- a freedom indistinguishable from selfishness. This unbalanced emphasis on one element of political theory -- at the expense of other public goals such as justice and equal opportunity -- is the evidence of a rigid ideology. Socialists take a similar path, embracing equality as an absolute value. Both ideologies have led good people into supporting policies with serious human costs.
Gerson concludes by saying that conservatives have been generally suspicious of all ideologies, preferring long practice and moral tradition to utopian schemes of left or right. Rand is nothing if not utopian. In Atlas Shrugged, she refers to her libertarian valley of the blessed as Atlantis. As he points out, it is an attractive place, which does not exist, and those who seek it drown.
            I agree with much of what Gerson writes, although with a different conclusion. The book is not great literature, and from what I read, this is not great cinema. However, as an indictment of false collectivist compassion, it works. I would hope that many would see the movie, read, the book, or even my summary, and wake up. As I read this book, what I see are elements that are separable from the general philosophy of Rand. When I do so, what I find is that she is prophetic of what America could become when its people no longer view economic and political relationships as a reflection of moral arrangements.
Robert Tracinski of The Intellectual Activist has drawn some analogies between what happens in the book and what is happening in America now. For him, the whole country is a life-sized, 3-D promotional diorama for Atlas Shrugged. We are all living through a live-action version of the novel. Here are some recent examples.
In Atlas Shrugged, businesses begin moving to Colorado, a state that the federal government denounces as regressive because it has "hardly any government," in order to escape strangling government regulations in their home states. In response, the federal government issues a decree forbidding companies from relocating. Could it happen in America? Recently, in the real world, the Obama administration's National Labor Relations Board filed a complaint demanding that Boeing locate its assembly line for the 787 Dreamliner in Puget Sound instead of Charleston, South Carolina—on the grounds that Boeing should not be allowed to escape the death grip of the unions by moving to a "right to work" state.
In Atlas Shrugged, a brilliant young oilman invents a revolutionary process to extract oil from shale, but even though the country is desperate for energy, government regulations shut him down. Could it happen in America? In the real world, a process called hydraulic fracturing—hydrofracking or just "fracking" for short—is making it possible to extract astonishing quantities of natural gas from shale formations across the country. This promises to revolutionize domestic energy production. Nevertheless, even though the country is desperate for energy, the media and the government are readying a campaign to impose a moratorium on fracking and smother it in its infancy. In the area of energy, one could multiply this example with Alaska, off shore drilling, Atomic Energy, new refineries, and many other obstacles placed in the way of developing the energy sources America already has.
In Atlas Shrugged, the federal government bleeds dry productive firms to provide bailouts for failing companies that produce "unreliable goods at unpredictable times." In the real world, the federal government bailed out General Motors and Chrysler with $80 billion dollars of our tax money so that they could bring us nine of the eleven "Worst Cars on the Road."
In Atlas Shrugged, people of talent and initiative are disappearing and withdrawing from the economy because they refuse to accept punishment for their hard work and ambition. In the real world, legendary ad man and entrepreneur Jerry Della Femina announced that he has sold his famous restaurant and is withdrawing from all of his other ventures because "I'm just not ready to have my wealth redistributed. I'm not ready to pay more tax money than the next guy because I provide jobs and because I work a 60-hour week and I earn more than $250,000 a year." To show that art imitates life imitating art, he explains: "So why am I dropping out? Read a brilliant book by Ayn Rand called Atlas Shrugged, and you'll know."
In Atlas Shrugged, the advocates of uncontrolled government keep spending money faster than they can expropriate it from a shrinking number of producers. A chapter later in the novel is titled, "Account Overdrawn." In the real world, S&P has just downgraded the long-term outlook for US government debt, a precursor to downgrading the nation's credit rating. Enough said.
The book stands or falls on its own. However, for those who do not know some of her personal history, Rand lived through the Bolshevik takeover in Russia and escaped to America in the Roaring 20s, a period of extraordinary industrial growth and achievement. She then watched in horror as America plunged into the Red Decade and the Great Depression, a permanent "temporary crisis" that was always used as an excuse for the government to grab more power. When it came to understanding what made America great and what was destroying it, she had plenty of real-life material to draw from. Frankly, I have never known how much of her statements on the virtue of selfishness were to be taken literally, or if we should read them against this collectivist and brutal background of Bolsheviks and Nazis.
When I first picked up Atlas Shrugged, I read the first 100 pages and put it down. It was boring. I could not get into the book. That was many years ago. I kept thinking I would read it someday. Yet, I read of the basic themes of the book, came across a few quotes, and kept seeing people do or say something that made me think: "That's just like something from Atlas Shrugged." My experience was similar to that of Robert Tracinski, although I am not a disciple, as he claims to be. Yet, my experiences made me realize that the novel might be realistic after all. The turn in my appreciation for Rand accomplished came when I realized that her novel portrays the America that de Tocqueville said could come, as he outlined it in Volume II, Section 4 of his book, Democracy in America. The people will vote away their freedom, favoring the security of concentrated power into the hands of a few over the insecurity of a limited government.
Rand clearly has a unique way of thinking of the content of morality. Her brand of morality is hardly fit for the real world, for one could achieve such selfishness only by great effort. Most of us are far more compassionate and concerned for others than she allows. Yet, we as readers can find continued application of her reflections upon the issues we face today. The America she created in her novel is mythical. Yet, if we are not careful, we may create in reality the mythical world that Rand created. At its root, if we continue to stigmatize as immoral those who expand the wealth of the nation, and make a virtue out of living off the wealth of others, we are actually destroying “the public” that we claim to uphold.

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Atlas Shrugged, Part 4

Here is my summary of Part III of Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. As a reminder, my reason for devoting this time is both the recent movie, renewed interest in Ayn Rand, and the resurgence of libertarian thinking.


In III.1, Dagny finds “Atlantis,” the place where the producers of the world have come to “retire” as the engine of the world. Their motto is simple: I swear by my life and my love of it that I will never live for the sake of another person, nor ask another person to live for mine. Here is another element of her moral argument for her brand of libertarianism. If I choose to live off government aid, I am choosing to ask other people to provide for my life and sustenance. You do not help other people when you propose a philosophy of government that encourages them to do this. You are encouraging an immoral choice. In any case, John Galt tells Dagny that the producers of the world, the people who value the products of the mind, are on strike. He has the turn of phrase that the despoiling of reason has been the motive of every anti-reason creed on earth. The despoiling of ability has been the purpose of every creed that preached self-sacrifice. In a pointed comment about government health care, a doctor is present, making the point that rulers thought only of the welfare of the patient, with no thought given to what it takes to gain the knowledge to help the patient. Doctors have needs, and yet, to say so is to sound selfish and uncaring toward the patient.
            In III.4, Rand refers to “the kind of poor who want something for nothing.” I am not sure what she would for those who would be on everybody’s list of people who cannot provide for themselves. However, she is very clear that wanting something for nothing is an immoral choice.
            In III.7, John Galt finally speaks to the nation. Given the climate today generated by the Democrat Party and by Barack Obama, I would suggest that any reader of this essay should read the speech. In essence, he says the following. You as a society have sacrificed justice to mercy, independence to unity, reason to faith, wealth to need, self-esteem to self-denial, happiness to duty. We are on strike against self-immolation, Galt says. We are on strike against the creed of unearned rewards, unrewarded duties, the dogma that the pursuit of one’s happiness is evil, and the doctrine that life is guilt. Quite significantly, I think, Galt says that the nation has considered wealthy people as evil. Now, “we have chosen not to harm you any longer. We have chosen not to exploit you any longer.  We have chosen not to endanger you, nor to wear the shackles any longer.” The mind is basic human tool for survival. To think, to reason, is a choice. Reason is your means of survival. Happiness is a successful state of life. In a criticism of Christianity, Galt says that a doctrine that gives you, as an ideal, the role of a sacrificial animal seeking slaughter on the altars of others, is giving you death as your standard. In what I see as rhetorical flourish, Galt says that the only moral commandment is to think. All human virtue such as reason, purpose, and self-esteem, come from existence and consciousness. Rationality, independence, integrity, honesty, justice, productiveness, and pride all come from these two facts. He refers to “worshippers of the zero,” those who want to just barely live, rather than achieving life. He criticizes Genesis 3 in a way that most Jews and Christians would find offensive and even off the mark. Yet, if one reads behind this, one can see the core values Rand promotes. Galt says that the myth declares that a human ate fruit of the tree of knowledge. Humanity acquired a mind and became a rational being. It was knowledge of good and evil, and thus moral knowledge. He was sentenced to earn a living through work and to sexual experience. Yet, all of this is a “fall,” when in reality, it is the origin of reason, morality, creativity, and joy. The “fall” is actually the greatest virtues of humanity. He ponders how it can be moral to serve the happiness of others, but not your own. If enjoyment is a value, why is it moral when experienced by others, but immoral when experienced by you? Galt gets into a criticism of the morality of sacrifice. Again, this is harsh criticism of religion at one level. Yet, if one is willing to reflect upon the way she understands sacrifice in this world, it can give one pause to reflect. Galt says that somehow, it has also become moral to live by the effort of others, rather than by your own effort. Under a morality of sacrifice, you sacrifice morality and self-esteem. You praise non-profit ventures and condemn those who make the profits that make non-profit ventures possible. You talk of something being “in the public interest,” and for “public benefit,” and of “public welfare.” In such statements, “the public” has become anyone who has failed to achieve any virtue or value. Galt says that the only proper purpose of a government is to protect the rights of individuals, which primarily means from physical violence. Government needs only the police, the army, and the courts. His point is that those now on strike in this mythical world Rand has created have already served “the public” by sharing the products of their thinking, expecting a rational return. They have already “served” and “returned back to the community,” simply by achieving their lives, which has overflown toward others with work and enjoyment. He states that “the looters’ state” will collapse, because it is deprived of its best slaves. He urges: “Do not let the hero in your soul perish.” I find this statement powerful.
            In III.8, leaders have some recognition that they have made a mess of things. The country is fall apart. What are they to do? The advice is simple. Reduce taxes and regulation. Get the government out of the way. 

Thursday, May 5, 2011

Atlas Shrugged, Part 3

In Part 3 of my discussion of Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand, we learn of the role of money, the value of profit, the origin of the name of the book, and the setting in which "John Galt" got his start. Since most people will never read this book, I hope that this summary provides at least some hint of why it remains a powerful statement of the failure of government dominance of the economy.


            In II.1, Dr. Stadler says that he cannot imagine why a colleague would have stopped being a scientist, and go directly to producing an engine that would revolutionize consumption of energy. Why would he waste his mind on such practical appliances? Dagny responds, “Perhaps because he liked living on this earth.” This statement is one with which any of us can agree. Our discourse about how we organize ourselves politically and economically ought to arise because we like living here, and we like living well.
            In II.2, Bertram Scudder says that money is the root of all evil. This statement opens the door for a long exposition on the Rand view of view money. One will need, as always, to allow for some rhetorical flourish. Yet, the pithy and memorable elements of this speech have the design of making us re-think the role of money. We think of profit as the “bottom line.” In reality, it is a reflection of the “bottom line,” which is a complex social relationship. Thus, Francisco responds that money is simply a tool of exchange, which cannot exist unless there are goods produced and people able to produce them. Money is the material shape of the principle that people who wish to deal with each other must deal by trade and give value for value. Money becomes possible because people produce things useful to other people. “Is this what you consider evil?” Moochers are people who try to get your money by tears, while looters are those in government who take it by force. She shows awareness of the relational nature of money by saying that money is payment for your effort, and you receive money from others because you expect to exchange that money for the efforts of others that will benefit you and your family. Moochers and looters do not add value to money, but proper social exchanges do add value. Do you consider this evil? Rand, through Francisco, continues to press home the point. The mind of a human being is the root of production, not just muscular force. The human mind is the source of all wealth. Wealth is the product of the human capacity to think. Is there any way to think of this as a social transaction that involves the strong taking from the weak? Are you thinking that one who produces a motor, for example, is gaining wealth at the expense of those who did not invent it? Is money made by the intelligent at the expense of the foolish? Is it made by the able at the expense of the incompetent? Is it made by the ambitious at the expense of the lazy? The key point: an honest person in Ayn Rand’s moral universe is one who knows that he or she cannot consume more than he or she has produced. Money rests upon the principle that every person is owner of his or her mind and effort, and therefore is willing to use money as the value of the mind and effort of others in exchange. Money is only a tool. It will take you wherever you wish, but it will not replace you as the driver. To bring home the point even further: people who either mooch or loot are those who seek to replace the mind by seizing the products of the mind. Money cannot give happiness to one who does not know what one wants. Money does not provide one with a code of values. What of inherited wealth? The one who would have made his or her own wealth anyway is the only one worthy of inheriting wealth. Other than that, money does not corrupt the one who inherits it. Rather, the one who inherits may corrupt it. If the one who inherits wealth does not have the intellect conducive to it, he or she will lose it soon enough. If your money comes by fraud and cooperation, it will not bring joy. Money is an effect that its cause in you. Money is the product of virtue. In another pithy line, Francisco says that one who damns money has obtained it dishonorably. People who respect it have earned it. People who say that money is the root of evil are warning others that they are looters. In reality, money demands the highest virtue, such as courage and self-esteem. Money is the barometer of the virtue of a society. When you see trading is done by consent, rather than by compulsion, then you know there is virtue. Francisco warns that if you make evil the means of survival, do not expect people to remain good. Do not expect them to stay moral and lose their lives for becoming the fodder of the immoral. You are destroying the greatest civilization to have ever existed. You wonder why the productive civilization in history is crumbling around you, while damning its life-blood – money. He praises America as a country of money, for this means that it is a country of reason, justice, freedom, production, and achievement. The mind and money of humanity were set free to become the highest type of human being, the self-made person. Until you discover that money is the root of all good, you ask for your own destruction. When money stops being the tool of social exchanges, then will come others tools, such as blood, whips, and guns.
            In II.3, we finally get to the title of the book. Francisco says to Rearden that if he saw Atlas, the giant who holds the world on his shoulders, if he saw that he stood, blood running down his chest, his knees buckling, his arms trembling but still trying to hold the world aloft with the last of his strength, what would he tell him to do? Rearden does not know, so he asks what Francisco would tell him. “To shrug.” In this case, “Atlas” is the few numbers of those creative, innovative, productive people of the world, able to accomplish great things through their drive and ambition. 
            In II.4, Rearden makes it clear in a public form that he works for nothing except for his own profit. He earns it. He makes a profit by selling a product others need, people willing to exchange what they produce for what he produces. We deal because of mutual benefit and with mutual consent. He refuses to apologize for his success or his wealth. He then comes to his main point, which deals with the public good. He says to those who judge him that they do not serve the public good, that no one’s good can be achieved at the price of human sacrifices. When you violate the rights of one person, you have violated the rights of all. A public of people without rights is doomed to destruction. He challenges their moral premise. He refuses to serve the interests of society apart from and above his own interest. For him, it seems that those who call themselves “the public” require victims. “The public good be damned, I will have no part of it!” The crowd burst into applause.
            In II.7, Danneskjold expounds upon the horror that Robin Hood immortalized as an ideal of righteousness. It is said that he fought against the looting rules and returned the loot to those who had been robbed. Yet, that is not the meaning of the legend in the popular mind. He stole from the rich to give to the poor. He should remembered as a champion of private property, fighting against the government who wanted to take it away. Instead, the popular mind remembers him as the one who distributed wealth that he did not earn. He was generous with the money of other people.
            In II.8, Francisco discloses that people of the mind, people who produced the wealth of the world, let their enemies write the moral code of the world. For him, and for Rand, this is not a battle over material wealth. Rather, this is a moral crisis. If one looks back over the argument this far, one can see that for Rand, it has never been simply about wealth, but about the rational social exchange of what produces of value in this world. For her, that is a “moral arrangement” of the economy. Any other arrangement distorts value, and eventually leads to the destruction of productivity.
            In II.10, Dagny comes across an auto company based upon the business plan in which everyone in the factor would work according to his or her ability, but would be paid according to his or her need. It had the name, “The Twentieth Century Motor Company.” The result was that people hid whatever ability they had. They slowed down and watched like hawks so that no one worked any faster or better than the next person. The person makes the observation that there is no surer way to destroy a person than to force the person not to do his or her best. In this story, we learn who John Galt is. He was the one who, at the public meeting of this company, heard this new plan, and was told by leaders that we all accept this moral law. He stood up: “I don’t.” He was tall and thin. “I will put an end to this, once and for all.” As he walked out of that momentous meeting, a leader asked how he could do that. “I will stop the motor of the world.” As readers, we are slowly getting the hint. In this case, the “motor” are those who vale the products of the human mind, and believe a moral social and economic order will honor such products. Of course, we are learning, throughout the course of this book, what would happen if the “motor” stops functioning. 

Monday, April 25, 2011

Atlas Shrugged, Part 2

            Since may people will not sit down and read Atlas Shrugged, I would like to give a summary of each of the three parts of the book.
Part One of Atlas Shrugged exposes us to the characters. We learn of the heroic and creative individuals, Reardon and Dagny, as they must combat the efforts made by the government to suppress their individuality in favor of the common good. The uniqueness of the book is that these two people of business are the heroes of the story. All too often, in my view, people are victims of business. The real world is not like that. We benefit from the passions and interests of business people far more than we experience oppression. Further, in this part, we read of the value of profit and competition. Of course, we also hear for the first time the recurring question, Who is John Galt?
Early in her novel, in I.1, a character refers to the danger of becoming a feudal serf. The other says, “That’s what I am…” Such is the feeling throughout the novel. People in her America of the future have become serfs of the federal government. Soon after that, of course, we hear the read the words, “Who is John Galt?” It will be a question asked in almost every chapter of the book, until we finally have him disclosed at the end. One thinks he was in search of Atlantis, and another, he searched and found the fountain of youth. Eventually (II.5), Francisco describes John Galt as Prometheus who changed his mind. After centuries of being torn by vultures in payment for having brought to human beings the fire of the gods, he broke his chains and he withdrew his fire, until the day when humanity withdraws its vultures. As one reader, I must say that I wish the novel had ended around page 500 rather than 1168. By then, she had made her point about the state of her mythical (prophetic?) vision of America. In the same chapter, a character thinks of how the nation is cracking to pieces, yet, feeling no anger or anxiety about it. In the same chapter, Dagny thinks that her brother will not deal with Rearden because he “did his job with superlative efficiency.” Again, Rand has introduced us quickly to a theme – America will become a place where others will squash excellence and courage in pursuing what one loves to do. One person being excellent implies that others are not doing their best. It harms the collective or community spirit. Her brother wants to give someone beside Rearden a “chance.” Her response is that she is running a railroad. Her brother says she has an extremely narrow view of things. He wants to help someone. Her response: “I’m not interested in helping anybody. I want to make money.” Now, such a statement will reaffirm either that Rand is not worth the time, or be a shocking reminder of why people are in business. Businesses need to make a profit. Extremely successful businesses make much profit for their investors. Yes, they also employ thousands of people. Yet, that is not their purpose. Yes, they can improve the life of the community. Yet, that is not the purpose of the business. It must make a profit, or it will die. Profit is the bottom line, even if it is not the only factor in making a business decision.
            In I.2, Rearden expresses his business philosophy. His interlocutor says that he does not want “the public” against him. He says he does not think they are, but even if so, it does not matter. Rearden does not care that the newspapers are against him because “they have time to waste.” In other words, he does not have the time to care what the newspapers say about him. His interlocutor makes the accusation that his only goal is to make steel and to make money. Rearden affirms, “but that is my only goal.” He also reaffirms that the steel mills are his mills. His interlocutor says, “They think that your attitude is anti-social.” What I read here is that someone pursuing a dream, and using private property to achieve that dream, is now viewed in this mythical world as “anti-social.” Here is where Rand does a disservice to capitalism. What she never saw, I think, is that capitalism is intensely communal. In reality, Rearden has to learn to work with others to accomplish his goal of making steel and making money. He will need partners and employees. He will need to develop social skills, so to speak, in order to make his goal a reality. At least, in the real world in which you and I live, he will have to do that. Yet, in the world Rand has created, he can be an island of individuality raging against a sea of collective identity. Now, as a rhetorical device in a novel, it is part of what keeps readers being challenged and coming back to her insights. Yet, in the real business world, it would not work. My point, in criticism of Rand, is that defenders of capitalism often do it a disservice by making it sound far more “selfish” and “individualist” than it actually is. If one is going to be commercially successful in a capitalist system, one will compete and seek the defeat of competitors, of course, but one may also have to cooperate with them on other matters of mutual concern. One will need to keep good employees, gather investors, and treat the customer well. All of this requires a degree of social skills that Rearden rarely exhibits in this novel.
            In I.2, we get another hint of trouble on the horizon with government. Rearden knows he needs to pay someone in Washington to protect his interest from the government. In fact, all business people had to employ such people. By implication, Rand is saying that the growth of government into the business sector is harming productivity and taking energy away from where one could place it far more effectively. Rearden learns that Philip is trying to raise money for “Friends of Global Progress,” one of many organizations in the novel that are supposed to enhance the collective spirit over that of individuality.
            The issue of private and public comes into bold relief in I.3. Orren Boyle claims that he wants to preserve free enterprise. Yet, free enterprise is on trial. “Unless it proves its social value and assumes its social responsibilities, the people won’t stand for it. If it doesn’t develop a public spirit, it’s done for … The only justification of private property … is public service.” In the context of this novel, one can feel the contempt Rand has for every phrase. In this case, even supposed friends of free enterprise do not grasp the danger of surrendering individual initiative and property to a collective mentality. Later, Taggart will argue that one person cannot move against something to which everyone else agrees. Boyle will add, “… private property is a trusteeship held for the benefit of society as a whole.” He speaks in favor of “progressive social policy” that will curtail individuality whenever it asserts itself against the collective. I would contend that for a novel to bring out this tension could cause a reader to re-think assumptions about the public good versus respect for individuality. For me, what one needs is both, but Rand is making it clear that if one is not careful, the collective will crush individuality, thereby (hint of the end of the book) destroying the collective. To put it another way, by crushing individual initiative, the public through its elected representatives will actually destroy itself. The public will get its wishes through a democratic process, and in the process, it will cut itself off from the individual creativity, drive, passion, and dreams that it needs to sustain itself. The public does not realize that it actually depends upon the willingness of individuals to thrive. In fact, Rand is saying that there are few such people in this world, and the world depends upon them for progress.
            In I.4, Rand refers to the “anti-dog-eat-dog rule.” Of course, she is poking some fun at those who think that competition is such an awful thing. In the end, Rearden admits that he and Dagny have no spiritual goals or qualities. They are after material things. “That’s all we care for.” Yet, “Dagny, whatever we are, it’s we who move the world and it’s we who’ll pull it through.” If you have any spiritual sensibilities, this will be offensive. I would argue that Rand goes too far. Yet, in the context of a novel, does this not seem appropriate? People who value this world are the people who will “move the world” and “pull it through.” One does not have to be a materialist to see that this world, and our place in it, is important. We have a responsibility to do what we can, in the brief time we are here, to improve our lives individually, and in the process, make the world a better place. One can see here that Rand does have, for all her egoism, a concern for the world. She wants it to be a better place. Of course, she has a quite particular vision of how that will happen.
            In I.5, we learn that the most depraved human being is one who lives without a purpose. Dagny refers to “the looters” of the world, those in government who take the wealth of citizens and appropriate it as they see fit. The phrase is one libertarians use often to refer to government officials who loot those who earn money and give it to those who do not earn it, who in the process become looters.
            In I.6, Rand focuses upon the notion of humanity in a meaningless universe. Pritchett says that once people realize that their lives have no meaning, they will become more tractable, they will allow those in government to set the course for their lives. Eubank says that it was shallow of past literature to emphasize morality, free will, achievement, happy endings, and humanity as a heroic being. It seems the real essence of life is defeat and suffering. Later, Eubank criticizes Dagny for being a symptom of the illness of the nation. She has invested her life in machines, and in so doing runs a railroad instead of investing herself in the handloom and bearing children. Again, one can sense the hostility here, for Rand is emphasizing the value of machines the idiocy of returning to an age when human beings had fewer of them. Yet, in her mythical nation, progress has become living “simple,” and therefore with fewer machines in one’s life.
            In I.7, we see evidence of the heroic spirit of Dagny, as she puzzles over hearing that the sun would eventually cool down and die. It did not cause her to despair, because she assumed that humanity would find by then a substitute. She meets an old bum who says that humanity is just a low-grade animal, without intellect, without soul, without virtues or moral values. The only capacities are to eat and reproduce. He ridicules her search for beauty, greatness and sublime achievement. He ridicules stories of the mind, spirit, and ideals of humanity.
            In I.8, Bertram Scudder writes in a magazine about his concern that society needs protection from of “two unbridled individualists” like Rearden and Dagny. They are devoid of “public-spirited actions.” Later, Dagny is not to mention to the public that she expects to make a profit by her business dealings, clearly indicating that profit had become a dirty word.
            In 1.10, the purchasing manager reminds Rearden that he would do no good in Washington, getting their favors: “You’re the one who’s got something to be looted.” Later, Dagny talks with Mr. Lawson, who stresses that he lost all of his own money for a good cause. His motives are pure. He wanted nothing for himself. He finishes by saying that in all his life, he never made a profit. To that statement, Dagny, with a quiet, steady, and solemn voice, said, “I think I should let you know that of all the statements a man can made, that is the one I consider most despicable.” As one can tell, Rand is relentless in agitating anyone who disparages profit. 

Thursday, April 14, 2011

Atlas Shrugged, Part I

            What would happen if a political philosophy became victorious that considered it wrong to be an heroic, creative, and productive individual? Such a political environment might make it almost impossible for new businesses to start, would look negatively upon competition, and would not allow the accumulation of wealth. It might squeeze out all individuality in order to elevate the common good.
Such is the theme of Atlas Shrugged, the 1957 book by Ayn Rand.
            Two things have motivated me to share a few blog entries concerning Atlas Shrugged. One was an email exchange I had with Christian author and financial advisor Gary Moore. He wrote an article for Christianity Today on Rand, and we had a respectful disagreement about what he wrote. His approach was that there was some “juice” in Rand, but it was laced with strychnine. To drink any will poison you. I have enough of the contrarian in me that he wetted my appetite to read it. The book had been on my “to read” list for decades. However, since he was so strong in his opposition, I, of course, had to read it. Contrary to his position, I think Christians can read Rand in the same discerning way they must read all philosophers, but especially when they are atheist. From my perspective, the prevenient grace of God suggests that the atheist can get something right about human nature and life.
            The second thing that motivates this blog is the movie to be released, based upon this novel.
A potential reader of this blog may not be aware of who Ayn Rand is. One can watch the movie of her life and get some sense of how she lived her life. She was not only atheist, but sensual. I find her more zealous fans a hindrance. As I understand it, “Randians” can be intellectually arrogant and so ideologically committed that they are of little practical effect. Such features of Rand, I am sure, are a hindrance to people appreciating the political philosophy she expresses in Atlas Shrugged.
On the positive side, she has a robust view of the nobility of the human being, especially of human rationality. . Productivity, work, and wealth are so often denigrated today, even though they are such important ways of improving life on this planet. Humanity has a noble purpose in being here, and Rand, along with Plato, Aristotle, Aquinas, Kant, and Hegel, stress this nobility. So many human beings settle for so little, while Rand refuses to let us do that. In the end, Mr. Moore admitted that "some people" can separate "the juice from the poison." I would encourage readers to receive the juice she has to offer.
To state my philosophical problem with Rand briefly, we are social creatures. Aristotle, in fact, in his work Poetics, says that the ability to imitate others is a gift that distinguishes humanity from other creatures. We learn how to be human from what others do and say. Aristotle and many others in the ancient world wrote on friendship, recognizing this social dimension to human life. Yet, even here, Rand has found a way to attract people to her position. In this case, what is attractive is that she figures out a way to assert the human will against the forces of nature, as science describes it. She presents human life as a struggle, for we are simply organisms that come into this world, must struggle to survive in the brief time we have, and then die. For her, the fact that there is no meaning or purpose to human life generally means that it will take courage to live the life one has now. One must face this meaningless life and celebrate one’s self and body, using the mind one has, to do – whatever one chooses to do with one’s life. For some, the challenge to be an heroic individual, standing against the majority, will always attract a following.
            Yet, I submit that none of this philosophy explains the reason for the continuing challenge that Ayn Rand presents to her readers in Atlas Shrugged. In fact, I submit that her atheist, sensual, and egoistic philosophy is a barrier for many people who could benefit from grappling with what I think is her core insight. I also submit that authors like Gary Moore who “warn” people of her general philosophy do so in order to keep people away from the powerful point she makes about the role of government in the lives people. In particular, she has great concern for the “unintended consequences” that an over-regulated and over-taxed economy will have on the primary engine of capitalism, namely, its producers and entrepreneurs. 
            I have just a few more blogs to share about the contents of this book that I find challenging when it comes to developing a political philosophy.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

Two soldiers died in Afghanistan

Diana West (April 9, 2011) writes of two more American soldiers being killed this week by a "lone" Afghan "ally." These latest murders took place inside a compound in the northern Afghan province of Faryab where the soldiers were providing security for a meeting between U.S. trainers and Afghan border police.
She says she cannot find more details. Presumably, young soldiers arrived safely with their team at the Afghan border police compound near the Afghan border with Turkmenistan. They probably thought the first hard part of the day was over, that they were behind a secure perimeter and could have a smoke or a chew or a stick of gum and wait until they had to mount up and face the booby-traps and sniper harassment that would follow them home. It was at this point that their killer, an Afghan police officer, moved in on them. Maybe he was even assigned to "partner" with them. He greeted them, offered something to eat, might even have told them a joke, who knows? While they were eating, smoking, laughing, somehow off guard, he shot them dead.
West then wonders whether he shouted "Allahu Akbar," or kept it under his breath, or wait until he had gotten clean away for a big loud, "Allah be praised, I got me two infidels"?
This "incident," she says, brings the total of U.S. troops murdered by our Afghan allies since December by her unofficial and possibly incomplete count to 17. If she adds two Italian troops killed in January by an Afghan soldier firing an M-16 at close range while the Italians were cleaning their guns, and three German troops killed in February by an Afghan soldier firing a submachine gun at close range while the Germans were working on a vehicle, the total is 22 NATO soldiers killed by Afghan security forces in four months.