Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical

by Sciabarra, Chris

  Thanks also to Ed Crane and David Boaz of the Cato Institute; Andrea Rich of Laissez-Faire Books; Ralph Volpicella and the Mil-Rite Printing staff; Angela Carannante, Lorraine DaTello, Nadine Goldstein, Michael Lipner, Ron Mangano, Mary Morse, and Kathy Sharp from New Dorp High School; the late James Bennett; Kathy Lendech and Turner Entertainment Company, and the folks at Robert’s One-Hour Photo; my New York University friends and colleagues, including Steve Faulkner, Farhad Kazemi, Kenneth King, Marilyn LaPorte, Richard Randall, Mario Rizzo, and Gisbert Flanz and Bertell Ollman, both of whom have greatly influenced my approach to political theory; Mary Toledo of the Reason Foundation; Barbara Branden, for her constructive comments and guidance; Nathaniel Branden for his insightful comments and for sharing The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem prior to its publication; Joe Cellantano; William Dale; John and Marsha Enright; Oz Garcia; Scott Gordon; Mike Hardy; Don Hauptman; Howard Kainz; Irfan Khawaja; Gema LaBoccetta; Robert McKenzie; E. Frederic Mirer; Gerard Power; David Ross; and Tim Starr.

  For commenting on this manuscript in whole or in part: the late Bill Bradford, Robert L. Campbell, the late John Hospers, Roderick T. Long, Tibor Machan, Victor and Susan Niederhoffer, David Oyerly, Peter Saint-Andre, David Ramsay Steele, the late George Walsh, Charles Wieder, and several anonymous readers. An earlier draft of this book was reviewed by Allan Gotthelf. Though Professor Gotthelf strongly disagrees with my arguments concerning the sources and dialectical character of Ayn Rand’s thought, my final presentation benefited nonetheless from his helpful criticism.

  I owe a very special debt of gratitude to seven people: Kathleen Rand, for her loyal support; Stephen Cox and Douglas Rasmussen, for their friendship and long-term support of, and critical commentary on, my work; Murray Franck, for his comments, indispensable legal advice, and friendship; and Roger E. Bissell, Michelle Marder Kamhi, and Louis Torres, for their friendship and encouragement of my efforts in countless ways.

  Thanks also to so many others too numerous to mention, who helped me materially and spiritually; to my aunts, uncles, cousins, and friends, and also, to my immediate family, all of whom have been a source of profound personal support, especially my late mother, Ann; my late father, Sal; my late Uncle Sam; my sister, Elizabeth; my brother, Carl; my sister-in-law, Joanne; Pamela Bolen; Matthew Cappabianca; Mark Cwern; the late Michelle Ely; Annette Memon; Hiromi Shinya; Michael Southern; Elaine Thompson; Peter Vigliarolo; Richard C. Williams and Dante the cat; and my late dog Blondie, who, during some of my most difficult days, gave me firsthand evidence of the “Muttnik Principle” in action.

  In acknowledging the above parties, I do not mean to suggest their implicit or explicit endorsement of any of the ideas herein expressed. What appears in this book is my own interpretation of Ayn Rand’s legacy and philosophy, for which I take full responsibility. I do not speak for a group or a movement, but only for myself.

  INTRODUCTION

  Ayn Rand is one of the most widely read philosophers of the twentieth century. Yet despite the sale of nearly thirty million copies of her works, and their translation into many languages (Landrum 1994, 302),1 there have been few book-length, scholarly examinations of her thought. This is hardly surprising since academics have often dismissed her “Objectivist” ideas as “pop” philosophy.2 As a best-selling novelist, a controversial, flamboyant polemicist, and a woman in a male-dominated profession, Rand remained outside the academy throughout her life. Her works had inspired passionate responses that echo the uncompromising nature of her moral vision. In many cases, her audiences were either cultish in their devotion or savage in their attacks. The left was infuriated by her anticommunist, procapitalist politics, whereas the right was disgusted by her atheism and civil libertarianism.

  Since her death in 1982, interest in her thought has not abated. Respondents to a joint Library of Congress–Book of the Month Club survey of “lifetime reading habits” indicated that Atlas Shrugged was second only to the Bible in its significant impact on their lives.3 Rand’s influence on American political thought has been acknowledged by Martin Anderson, Reagan’s chief domestic and economic adviser; Hillary Rodham Clinton; Alan Greenspan, former chairman of the Federal Reserve; John Hospers, philosopher and one-time Libertarian Party presidential candidate; perennial GOP presidential candidate Ron Paul; Charles Murray, author of Losing Ground; Robert Nozick, Harvard philosopher and National Book Award winner; and Clarence Thomas, associate justice of the Supreme Court. Most important, there has been a steady growth in Rand scholarship. In the past decade, a number of collections of her writings were published for the first time, as were several studies of her career and impact.4 The number of reference guides and journals dedicated to the examination of Objectivist ideas continues to grow.5 Discussions of her thought and excerpts from her essays appear regularly in journals and college textbooks.6 In addition, several professional scholarly organizations have been founded to promote the serious study of Rand’s philosophy.7 A new generation of thinkers schooled in the Objectiv-ist, classical liberal, and libertarian traditions has extended and refined the Randian legacy. They include Leonard Peikoff, heir to the Estate of Ayn Rand, who continues to lecture and write on Objectivism; Nathaniel Branden, who despite his separation from Rand in 1968, continues to develop the interconnections between neo-Objectivist philosophy and psychology; David Kelley, who has presented a sophisticated realist theory of perception based largely on Rand’s epistemological contributions; Douglas Den Uyl and Douglas Rasmussen, who have combined Randian and Aristotelian insights in their own unique defense of a free society; and Tibor Machan, whose many books reflect a deep appreciation of Rand’s philosophy.

  Nevertheless, the growth in Rand scholarship and influence has generated few comprehensive, book-length examinations of her thought (rather than her life and cultural impact). Three earlier attempts at extended critique, by Albert Ellis (1968), William F O’Neill ([1971] 1977), and John W. Robbins (1974), were published eight to twelve years before Rand’s death and, hence, did not assess her full contribution. The Philosophic Thought of Ayn Rand, edited by Den Uyl and Rasmussen (1984), is an important anthology of essays written by several scholars who examine aspects of Rand’s epistemology, ethics, and politics, from different perspectives. Peikoff’s Objectivism: The Philosophy of Ayn Rand (1991b) is the first systematic statement of Rand’s philosophy, albeit from an orthodox, noncritical vantage point. And Ronald Merrill’s Ideas of Ayn Rand (1991)—recently updated by Marsha Familaro Enright (Merrill and Enright 2013)—presents some original theses, though with a broader cultural orientation.

  This book is the first scholarly attempt to trace Rand’s roots and assess her place in intellectual history. My central theme is captured by the title: Ayn Rand: The Russian Radical, for in this book I address two questions:

  1. In what sense can Rand’s philosophy be understood as a response to her Russian past?

  2. In what sense can Rand’s philosophy be understood as a contribution to twentieth-century radical thought?

  The answers to these questions provide a new interpretation of Rand’s Objectivism in terms of its intellectual origins and its significance for the history of social theory. I contend that Rand achieved a unique synthesis by rejecting—and absorbing—key elements in the Russian tradition. She rejected the Marxist and religious content of Russian thought. She accepted the dialectical revolt against formal dualism. Her distinctive integration of a libertarian politics with a dialectical method forges a revolutionary link. She projected a dialectical sensibility while formulating a fundamentally non-Marxist, radical critique of statism.

  In this book, I do not focus on Ayn Rand’s personal life or on the controversial movement she inspired. I reconstructed certain biographical elements, especially concerning Rand’s Russian education, in an effort to trace her early intellectual development. In a few instances, I could not ignore circumstances in Rand’s public and private life, particularly those events which divided sympathetic and critical commentators alike a
nd led to interpretive modifications, or distortions, of her overall project. It is my hope that this book will contribute to a much-needed scholarly appreciation of Rand’s profoundly original theoretical system.

  RAND SCHOLARSHIP: PROBLEMS AND PERSPECTIVES

  I must admit that Rand’s deeply controversial public persona has left for the present generation of scholars two major, related problems: (1) the need to distinguish Rand’s personality from her philosophical legacy; and (2) the task of determining what (and who) defines Objectivism as a distinct school of thought.

  The first problem is not peculiar to Rand scholarship. It is a truism that in studying any philosophy, one must never lose sight of the personal, cultural, and historical context of the originating philosopher. Yet the study of philosophy cannot be reduced to exploring this or that philosopher’s idiosyncrasies. That would be psychologism at its worst. One should not judge Schopenhauer’s philosophy by his penchant for sleeping with loaded pistols or Nietzsche’s by the fact that he died insane. Similarly, one should not judge Rand’s philosophy by her intolerance toward dissenters, her penchant for moralizing, her style of polemical exposition, or the “cult of personality” that she inspired.

  Perhaps even more than her status as an iconoclastic thinker, a novelist, or a woman, Rand’s truculent temperament and cultic following severely hampered serious scholarship on her work. Indeed, the fledgling Objectivist movement in the 1960s contributed to a second major problem: the difficulty in pinpointing the “genuine” representatives of her philosophy. Echoing the sectarianism and authoritarianism within the left academy, Objectivists have tended to engage in philosophical “purges” and personal disputes that have led some to disavow the contributions of others still working largely within the broad framework defined by Rand. The first such schism occurred in 1968, when Rand ended her personal and professional relationship with her chief associate, psychologist Nathaniel Branden.8

  In my view, there are distinctions between the “orthodox” interpreters of Rand’s thought and those who can be termed “neo-Objectivists.” The orthodox thinkers see Rand’s philosophy as closed and complete. The neo-Objectivists accept certain basic principles, while expanding, modifying, or revising other aspects of Rand’s thought. The “neo-Objectivist” label is not employed critically; for history, I believe, will describe all these thinkers simply as “Objectivists.” Nevertheless, Rand did not sanction all of the developments proceeding from her influence. In the case of Nathaniel Branden, for instance, although Rand enthusiastically approved his theoretical work while he was her associate, she repudiated his subsequent efforts.9 A later dispute between Leonard Peikoff and David Kelley centered on the question of what precisely constitutes the philosophy of Objectivism.

  Adopting an orthodox, “closed-system” approach, Peikoff (1991b) has stated: “‘Objectivism’ is the name of Ayn Rand’s philosophy as presented in the material she herself wrote or endorsed” (xv). Peikoff excludes from “official Objectivist doctrine” both his own work after Rand’s death and Rand’s unedited, unpublished lectures and journals, since she “had no opportunity to see or approve” of the material.10

  Peikoff follows Rand’s own pronouncements. At the time of the Branden schism, Rand maintained (in 1968) that she was a theoretician of Objectivism, which she characterized as “a philosophical system originated by me and publicly associated with my name.”11 She claimed that it was her “right and responsibility” to defend the system’s integrity, and she renounced any “organized movement” in her name.

  Twelve years after this “statement of policy,” when a magazine called The Objectivist Forum was established, Rand approved the journal as “a forum for students of Objectivism to discuss their ideas, each speaking only for himself.” Rand stated that the magazine was neither the “official voice” of her philosophy nor her “representative” or “spokesman.”

  Rand explained further that those who agree with certain tenets of Objectivism but disagree with others should give proper acknowledgment “and then indulge in any flights of fancy [they] wish, on [their] own.” Anyone using the name of “Objectivism” for his own

  philosophical hodgepodge … is guilty of the fraudulent presumption of trying to put thoughts into my brain (or of trying to pass his thinking off as mine—an attempt which fails, for obvious reasons). I chose the name “Objectivism” at a time when my philosophy was beginning to be known and some people were starting to call themselves “Randists.” I am much too conceited to allow such a use of my name.12

  Upholding the consistency of her system as one of its virtues, Rand opposed the practice of those philosophers who “regard philosophy as a verb, not a noun (they are not studying or creating philosophy, they are ‘doing’ it)” (2). Thus Peikoff’s interpretation of Objectivism as a “closed system” clearly mirrors Rand’s own view.

  By contrast, David Kelley (1990) views Objectivism as an “open system”: “A philosophy defines a school of thought, a category of thinkers who subscribe to the same principles. In an open philosophy, members of the school may differ among themselves over many issues within the framework of the basic principles they accept” (57).

  The evolution of academic Marxist thought illustrates Kelley’s point clearly. In defining the essence of contemporary Marxism, it is impossible to disconnect the statements of Karl Marx from the multiple interpretations constructed over the past century. These interpretations are as much a logical development of Marx’s methods and theories as they are a reflection of the particular historical, social, and personal contexts of his interpreters. The interpretations also reflect different periods in Marx’s own development. Some scholars stress the earlier, more “humanistic” Marx, whereas others argue for an economistic interpretation based on his mature works. Most scholars would agree, however, that one cannot detach Marx’s unpublished writings from the corpus of his thought. Indeed, the great bulk of Marx’s work was issued posthumously. For example, Marx’s Grundrisse, composed of seven unedited workbooks, was first published in the twentieth century. It provides a cornucopia of material from which one can reconstruct his method of inquiry as a distinct “moment” (or aspect) of his dialectical approach. The Grundrisse is an essential complement to and reflection on Marx’s published exposition in Capital.

  In addition, a Marxist scholar cannot neglect the plethora of interpretive twists resulting from the combination of Marx’s theories with compatible approaches in psychology, anthropology, and sociology. What has emerged is a scholarly industry that must take account of structuralist, phenomenological, critical, and analytical approaches, to name but a few. Finally, we have been presented with different philosophical interpretations of the “real” Karl Marx: the Aristotelian Marx, the Kantian Marx, the Hegelian Marx, and the Leninist Marx.13

  None of these developments alter the essential body of theory that Marx proposed in his lifetime. One can empathize with the innovative theorist who, jealously guarding his discoveries, aims to protect the “purity” of the doctrine. Ironically, Rand suggests a spiritual affinity with Marx on this issue. She remembers that upon hearing the “outrageous statements” made by some of his “Marxist” followers, Marx exclaimed: “But I am not a Marxist.”14

  Nevertheless, although one can debate whether a particular philosophy is “closed” or “open,” scholarship must consider the many theoretical developments emerging over time directly or indirectly from the innovator’s authentic formulations. Much of current intellectual history focuses not on the ideas of the innovator, but rather, on the evolution of the ideas and on the context in which the ideas emerged and developed. As W. W. Bartley argues, the affirmation of a theory involves many logical implications that are not immediately apparent to the original theorist. In Bartley’s words, “The informative content of any idea includes an infinity of unforeseeable nontrivial statements.” The creation of mathematics for instance, “generates problems that are wholly independent of the intentions of its creators.”15 />
  In this book, I have adopted a similarly hermeneutical approach. The principles of this scholarly technique were sketched by Paul Ricoeur in his classic essay, “The Model of the Text.”16 Ricoeur maintains that a text is detached from its author and develops consequences of its own. In so doing, it transcends its relevance to its initial situation and addresses an indefinite range of possible readers. Hence, the text must be understood not only in terms of the author’s context but also in the context of the multiple interpretations that emerge during its subsequent history.

  I do not mean to suggest that Rand’s ideas lack objective validity, that is, validity independent of the interpretations of others. Ultimately, one must judge the validity of any idea by its correspondence to reality and/or its explanatory power. But to evaluate the truthfulness of a philosophic formulation is not the only legitimate task of scholarship. Indeed, my primary purpose in this study as an intellectual historian and political theorist is not to demonstrate either the validity or the falsity of Rand’s ideas. Rather, it is to shed light on her philosophy by examining the context in which it was both formulated and developed.

  In this book I attempt to grasp Rand’s Objectivism as a text developing over time. As a concept, “Objectivism” is open-ended; it contains its history and its future. It must be understood in terms of both its historical origins and its post-Randian evolution. The existential conditions from which it emerged and to which it speaks are in large part what give it its very significance. So, too, its meaning continues to unfold through a clash of interpretations offered by followers and critics alike. By clarifying these conditions and factors, I hope to provide an enriched appreciation of Rand’s contributions.

  Such an assertion might imply that I claim to have grasped the implications of Objectivism even more thoroughly than did Rand herself.17 Although I would never presume to such intellectual hubris, it is true, nonetheless, that Rand could not have explored the full implications of her philosophy in her lifetime. Such a task is reserved necessarily for succeeding generations of scholars.