Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical

by Sciabarra, Chris

  Contrary to Rand’s assumptions, Marx did not endorse a vulgar version of the labor theory of value. Marx postulates all sorts of complex labor-time derivatives, such that the labor-time expended by a skilled worker, even by a capitalist in his capacity as a skilled innovator, is a multiple of simple labor-time. And for Marx, it is obvious that the material forces, the “machines” as Rand puts it, do not strictly determine consciousness. In Marx’s view, “Nature builds no machines, no locomotives, railways, electric telegraphs, self-acting mules, etc. These are products of human industry; natural material transformed into organs of the human will over nature, or of human participation in nature. They are organs of the human brain, created by the human hand; the power of knowledge, objectified” (Grundrisse, 706).

  Rand grossly distorted the mature Marxian perspective. But in contrast to Marx, she offered a more sophisticated view of the creative process. As I have suggested in previous chapters, Rand saw creativity as a constellation of rational and emotional, conscious and subconscious, articulated and tacit elements that cannot be quantified as complex multiples of simple labor-time. Creativity is the lifeblood of human action. It is the very fuel of the capitalist system. It is an expression of the individual’s integrated nature as a rational being, and it is the source of values for human consumption and enjoyment. Indeed, as Barry (1983, 109) remarks, there are times in which Rand seems so awestruck by the creative qualities of the innovator and the entrepreneur that she occasionally “slips into a crude intentionalist explanation of the free economy; as if it were the virtues of capitalists that produced the system.” This, however, is not Rand’s view, but it does underscore Rand’s conviction that capitalism as a social system rewards such virtues, raising people to a higher standard of living, and challenging them to greater knowledge and greater achievement. Such a system enriches the efficacious, self-esteeming individual. It promotes the mastery of particular skills, even as it beckons the laborer to expand his or her capacities and earn the values that sustain life.

  This creativity-driven conception of the capitalist production process is also manifested in Rand’s discussion of the objective value structure that the system embodies. She argued that market trade is never disconnected from the essential question of objective value theory: “of value to whom and for what?” Economically, the value of an individual’s work is determined by the voluntary consent of those who choose to exchange their work or products in return. Prospective participants evaluate the exchange on the basis of those values which they seek for their own benefit. There is an intimate connection here between the actor and the action, such that the actor benefits from the exchange. Hence, Rand’s ethical egoism finds social expression in the simple act of trading value for value, as evaluated by each actor within his or her own specific context.

  But Rand emphasized that the market itself cannot be separated from the culture in which it functions. The market can perpetuate a kind of duality between “philosophically objective values” and “socially objective values.” The market value of a product reflects the latter. A “socially objective value,” in Rand’s view, is “the sum of the individual judgments of all the men involved in trade at a given time, the sum of what they valued, each in the context of his own life.”70 Hence, if people sought to purchase cocaine for their own enjoyment, the “socially objective” market value would be reflected in the relative supply and demand for that product. But Rand argues that it is reality that will serve as the “ultimate arbiter” of human decisions on the market. For if people en masse choose to purchase narcotics within the context of their own goals, they will ultimately pay the price of their irrationality. While capitalism can be accused of leaving people free to indulge their irrational whims, such “whim-worship” cannot be pursued with impunity. In Rand’s view, the market localizes the self-destructive implications of irrational action. Rather than rewarding irrationality, capitalism leaves to individuals the choices that only they must make.

  The market process, however, does make possible the discovery of “philosophically objective values.” Rand maintains that such a value is “estimated from the standpoint of the best possible to man, i.e., by the criterion of the most rational mind possessing the greatest knowledge, in a given category, in a given period, and in a defined context.”71 Since nothing is a value-in-itself, and since values are not the result of subjective fancy, the free market will tend to enrich those individuals who see the wider context in the long run, and who introduce radical innovations that benefit human life.

  This distinction between the socially and the philosophically objective focuses attention on Rand’s conviction that no economic system can be extracted from the wider cultural totality within which it functions. An unimpeded market that rewards astrologers, coke dealers, and prostitutes is not Rand’s goal. A culture that enriches such self-destructive behavior has a profoundly anti-conceptual, anti-life orientation. No social system on earth could survive such irrationality. This is why Rand argues that self-esteem is a precondition of freedom. This is why Rand refuses to abstract her political theory from its foundations in ontology, epistemology, psychology, and ethics. This is why Rand sees an inseparable relation between the personal and the political, between reason and freedom.

  In Rand’s view, capitalism is the only social system that makes possible a triumph over social fragmentation. Dualism is as old as recorded history. The bifurcation of mind and body, the moral and the practical, the spiritual and the material predates capitalism by thousands of years. Capitalism is the first social system in history that points toward a genuine integration of human being. It makes the actor the beneficiary of his actions. It spiritualizes the secular and materially rewards the creative synthesis of innovative rationality. This is capitalism, ideally understood. But it is also the radical potential that lies dormant in a contemporary social system that mixes elements of freedom and unfreedom. For even in this unstable mixture, capitalist principles have exhibited their revolutionary and progressive character.

  PART THREE

  THE RADICAL RAND

  11

  RELATIONS OF POWER

  The synthesis of theory and practice has been one of the most significant themes in the history of Russian thought. Nearly every great Russian writer embraced a critical praxis as the central, motivating task of philosophy. Theoretical contemplation was considered incomplete and one-dimensional; it required consummation in the quest for truth-justice (iskaniye pravdy). This cultural predisposition toward political criticism and action provided fertile ground for the implantation of Marx’s revolutionary doctrine, encapsulated in the credo: “The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it” ([1845] 1967, 401–2).

  Ayn Rand gave full expression to this radical impulse in Russian thought. She recognized that philosophical contemplation was insufficient. Her initial theoretical musings emerged as a response to the dualities she confronted in the Russia of her youth. Her positive formulations constituted a critical revolt against Russian religious mysticism and communist politics. Just as Marx’s dialectical method was “in its essence critical and revolutionary,”1 Rand’s dialectical sensibility led her toward a comparable, radical resolution. But Rand’s project was neither theocratic nor communist in its political implications; it was profoundly secular, humanistic, and libertarian.

  Like her dialectical forebears, Rand refused to disconnect any part from the totality that gave it meaning. Rand’s critical method recognized the fundamental relatedness of all social phenomena. She adamantly opposed reification in social inquiry. Where some attempted to universalize a historically specific concrete, Rand saw “frozen abstractions.” Where others asserted certain premises as true and without need of proof, Rand saw “frozen absolutes” and “false axioms.” Where still others sought to combine two or more issues that needed to be analyzed and considered separately, Rand saw “package-dealing.” She rejected the modern tendency to “think in a sq
uare,” the contemporary disposition to accept a constricted, narrow definition of a social problem without understanding the principles underlying the issue, or the various links between issues.2 Everywhere Rand looked, she attempted to identify the principles that unite seemingly separate and fragmented spheres of human existence. She observed facts, identified the essential issues, integrated the data from diverse areas of inquiry, and articulated the basic principles at work.3 Her dialectical methods uncovered startling connections between economics, psychology, sex, art, politics, and ideology.

  In her political theory, Rand suggests that the initiation of force is a crucial component in the genesis of social dualism. Force creates a lethal contradiction between the mind and reality, thought and action. But in Rand’s view, just as freedom and reason presupposed each other, so too do force and faith. Faith (that is, irrationality, unreason) produces the same lethal contradiction between the mind and reality, thought and action. Force and faith, like dictatorship and determinism, “are reciprocally reinforcing corollaries.” In Rand’s view, enslavement requires an attack on the validity of human volition. Those who see reason as impotent necessarily accept the rule of force in its stead.4 For Rand, while the initiation of force nullifies an individual’s cognitive capacity, human inefficacy is both the precondition and by-product of sustained coercive action. Though Rand recognizes the initiation of force as the only existential practice that can violate rights, she focuses just as much attention on the cognitive practices and conditions that subvert individual autonomy and predispose us to accept our own subjugation.

  Rand’s assault on contemporary statist relations of power focuses attention on these theoretical and existential components. Her social criticism follows in the footsteps of her formal philosophy by repudiating dualism in all of its cultural incarnations. Her analysis can be comprehended on three distinct levels. While it is possible to abstract and isolate these various aspects, it must be understood that they are interrelated constituents of a single totality.

  On Level 1, Rand examined relations of power between persons. She focused on the psycho-epistemological and ethical principles at work in exploitative interpersonal relations. The psycho-epistemic and normative aspects are two, coextensive vantage points on the same phenomenon. These aspects are so closely related that they constitute a double-edged sword. On this first level of analysis, Rand comprehended the significance of the master-slave duality and the “sanction of the victim.” Within this context, important constructs are integrated into the Objectivist corpus, including “pseudo-self-esteem,” “social metaphysics,” and “alienation.”

  On Level 2, Rand considered many of these distortions in social interaction as by-products and reflections of cultural practices. She argued that modern intellectuals have mounted an assault on the integrity of concepts and language that has had the effect of ideologically legitimating social, political, and economic exploitation. She traced the impact of such conceptual and linguistic subversion on every area of culture, including art, literature, music, education, religion, sex, and race.

  On Level 3, Rand reviewed exploitative social relations within the structural context of statist interventionism.5 The relations of power at this level are mediated through a variety of economic and political structures and institutional processes. Rand examined the essential role of the predatory state in creating conditions of economic dislocation, class (or intergroup) struggle, social fragmentation, and brutality.

  Each of these three levels of analysis seeks to uncover another facet of modern statist power relations. Each is internally related to and implicit in the others. Each level incorporates personal, cultural, and structural dimensions. Each level is a relation between real people. Thus:

  • The codependency relationship (master and slave) of Level 1 is reproduced on the cultural and structural levels.

  • The distortion of concepts and language (Level 2) provides ideological legitimation for the codependency relationship (Level 1) and for the structural context within which it occurs (Level 3).

  • The sustenance of the predatory state (Level 3) requires individuals whose autonomy has been fundamentally thwarted (Level 1) and whose conceptual and linguistic practices have been distorted (Level 2).

  What must be emphasized is that for Rand, the goal of all social analysis is emancipation. In each aspect of her developed critique, change and transcendence beckon. Rand proudly declared that she was a philosophical “innovator” and a “radical” for capitalism, with everything that this implied. She wore these labels as terms “of distinction … of honor, rather than something to hide or apologize for” (Rand, 1964b, 15). In keeping with her revolutionary fervor, she sought to uncover the “fundamental” roots of contemporary social problems, “boldly proclaiming a full, consistent, and radical alternative” to the status quo.6

  MASTER AND SLAVE

  As we have seen, The Fountainhead provided Rand with the first opportunity to present a complex psychological portrait of those individuals whom she described as “second-handers.” As she puts it, speaking through Roark: “The second-hander acts, but the source of his actions is scattered in every other living person” (607). The second-hander seeks fame and admiration, a greatness in the eyes of others. The second-hander’s existence is partial, incomplete, and fundamentally dependent on those who possess self-sufficing egos. Whereas creators necessarily think and work alone, second-handers live through other people. They must rob, exploit, and rule others upon whom their sustenance depends. As parasites of both body and mind, they exist “through the persons of others” (606–7, 683). In attempting to rule others, they subjugate their victims by keeping them on a spiritual leash. But “a leash is only a rope with a noose at both ends.” Rand recognized that exploitation ultimately destroyed both the slave and the master, both the victim and the executioner (683, 661).

  At this stage in her intellectual development, Rand did not fully recognize the extent to which the creators participated in their own destruction. She argued that the second-hander’s attempt to exploit the creator required a legitimating ideology. As Toohey observes, those who seek to rule the creators don’t “need a whip.” The creators will often provide their own “and ask to be whipped” (636). Such self-subjugation was achieved through psychological manipulation. Roark exclaims: “When the first creator invented the wheel, the first second-hander responded. He invented altruism” (684).

  The creed of self-sacrifice provided the second-hander with a veneer of moral action. But Rand warns us, “Don’t bother to examine a folly—ask yourself only what it accomplishes.” While this dictum is uttered by Toohey, one of Rand’s grand-villains, it expresses Rand’s own views about the political utility of certain culturally accepted ethical doctrines. Toohey tells Keating, one of his victims:

  “Every system of ethics that preached sacrifice grew into a world power and ruled millions of men. Of course, you must dress it up. You must tell people that they’ll achieve a superior kind of happiness by giving up everything that makes them happy. You don’t have to be too clear about it. Use big vague words. ‘Universal Harmony’—‘Eternal Spirit’—’Divine Purpose’—‘Nirvana’—‘Paradise’—‘Racial Supremacy’—‘The Dictatorship of the Proletariat.’ … It stands to reason that where there’s sacrifice, there’s someone collecting sacrificial offerings. Where there’s service, there’s someone being served. The man who speaks to you of sacrifice, speaks of slaves and masters. And intends to be the master.”7

  What is crucial about this statement is Rand’s grasp of altruism as a tool of exploitation used by political and religious forces alike. She conflated several images that are ordinarily kept separate and distinct: the religious fundamentalist, the Nazi racist, and the Bolshevik agitator. Each of these historical figures was involved in a similar game of spiritual or material exploitation. Each used the language of sacrifice to a “higher” purpose. Altruism destroys creators by duping them into putting their virtues at the se
rvice of their destroyers. Altruism institutionalizes what Rand would later call, the “sanction of the victim.”8

  The most subversive political implication of Atlas Shrugged, is that individual freedom is possible only to those who are strong enough, psychologically and morally, to withdraw their sanction from any system that coercively thrives off their productive energies. In the novel, Rand examined the process by which the creators tacitly collaborate in their own enslavement by granting moral legitimacy to their exploiters. The exploiter must count upon the virtue of his subject and “use it as an instrument of torture.” He practices “blackmail with the victim’s generosity as sole means of extortion,” in which “the gift of a man’s good will” is transformed “into a tool for the giver’s destruction” (465). Rearden recognizes that the political authorities who choose to deal with him “by means of compulsion,” do not fully realize that they need his voluntary cooperation in order to succeed in their tasks. One of his most revelatory experiences is grasping that it is the victim’s own volition that makes the exploiters’ survival possible. Rearden tells his enslavers:

  “Whatever you wish me to do, I will do at the point of a gun. If you sentence me to jail, you will have to send armed men to carry me there—I will not volunteer to move. If you fine me, you will have to seize my property to collect the fine—I will not volunteer to pay it. If you believe that you have the right to force me—use your guns openly. I will not help you to disguise the nature of your action.” (479)

  Rearden refuses to participate in his own martyrdom. He refuses to condone the seizure of his property, and lays bare the naked aggression of his enslavement.