"On Finally Reading 'Atlas Shrugged'"

I know; "Atlas Shrugged" is something one should have read before the age of twenty-one, and then thinking, at least until you reached your senses, that the book contained all the answers to the world's ills. Well, I'm several times twenty-one, and amidst queries of "why are you bothering?" from friends and family, I plowed on through--count em'-- all 1074 pages of it. (The fine print in the paperback is, by the way, a challenge to these late-middle aged eyes.) So what am I doing, not only reading, but writing about the experience? For one thing, I think the recent movie, "The Passion of Ayn Rand," starring the superb Helen Mirren, provided the most direct inspiration. Much of the film takes place during the writing of "Atlas Shrugged."

Miss Rand was an extraordinary woman--very much her own person, whose life reflected rules written mostly by herself. For her, there was right and wrong, and any compromise between the two was even worse than being wrong. There was, however, a certain subjectivity to her own Objectivism. Marriage, for example, may have been a decent enough convention for the rank and file, but never one that should have posed an impediment to an honest extra-marital relationship fueled by passion. (Perhaps the proponents of "Open Marriage" in the '70's were, consciously or not, influenced by her.) To her credit, unlike some other figures from history, she never claimed that any of her actions were divinely inspired or revealed, but took full responsibility for her words and deeds.

While the "expert panel" which selected the "Best Books of the 20th Century," did not choose to acknowledge Ayn Rand's magnum opus, in its hot 100, the readers' poll conducted by them certainly thought it belonged on such a list. Like it or not, few would gainsay the significance of "Atlas." Indeed, it was recently ranked number 33 on the Amazon best-seller list, not bad for a book written in 1957. Although the New York Times Book Review panned it (and thought it fueled "by hate"), young Alan Greenspan (an early adherent of Objectivism and the invariable wisdom of the free market), quickly took issue with their review. Many may have since disagreed with Miss Rand's philosophy, even reviled it, but no one could ignore the book that embodied it. (By the way, Rand never embraced the honorific "Ms.," so I'll stick with the quainter "Miss" that she used professionally, as well as throughout her long, if unconventional, marriage.)

I first became aware of the book while in high school. It had just come out, and was all the rage. Graffito of "Who is John Galt?" appeared on many a subway wall and even a schoolmate running for class president co-opted the phrase ( "Who is Jim Silk?") as a campaign slogan. At the time, caring teen-aged liberals like myself began wondering if, perhaps, it was not only okay to give in to our selfish instincts once in a while, but downright desirable. (By the way, the phrase, "who is John Galt," is used in the book as if to say, "that's just the way things are," or "you can't fight City Hall.")

While I did read "The Fountainhead" (Miss Rand's warm-up to "Atlas Shrugged") some time ago and enjoyed both it and the Gary Cooper/Patricia Neal film, I did not begin "Atlas" until last year. What always intrigued me about Objectivism was (a) it was frowned upon by liberals and conservatives alike, and (b) most people are--to varying degrees--selfish, although reluctant to publicly proclaim it. (I suspect many of us embrace it like a secret, but forbidden, religion.)

As a young Air Force Lieutenant back in the 60's, I met a fellow officer who, along with his wife, were Objectivists. (A propos of nothing, they were also early supporters of McDonald's hamburgers, and rarely cooked at home.) Fred (that being his name) and I became not only friends, but were members of a couple of trios during the "folk craze" of the mid-60's. Fred played a mean 12-string guitar, and was a good guy who could sing both lead and harmony, so we got along fine. There was nothing about his philosophy that would have been noticed by someone not knowing he professed it. After all, Objectivists are free to choose what they do, and be friendly, even generous, if that is their desire. Fred was both friendly and generous to me, and I hope he felt I (the selfless one) was the same toward him. As for his taste in hamburgers, I express no opinion.

Consistent with the Objectivist credo, Fred and his wife believed in a very limited government role; i.e., national defense, police, fire and sanitation support, but not much more. Income taxes and things like Social Security, not to mention Welfare, were verboten. I do recall observing to Fred that the Air Force had about as much socialized medicine as one could imagine. He may not have agreed with my characterization, but I, for one, appreciated the fact that our first son, Jason, cost us precisely $6; the price of my wife's meals while at the base hospital.

As for "Atlas Shrugged," the author makes her points over and over (and over) again. The main point of the book seems to me to be that mankind's progress is achieved through initiative, which functions best when allowed to freely flourish. This means (with rare exceptions) zero governmental regulation. (Lest we face an Objectivist Hell, I hope the exceptions always extend to food & drug laws, as well as traffic lights, and garbage pick-ups. )

The protagonists of the book (and there are several) include Dagny Taggart (a pre-feminist industrialist, scornful of bureaucracies, unions, and weak men), James Taggart (her weakling brother and nominal boss at Taggart Transcontinental, the family-founded railroad he--over Dagny's dead body-- is perfectly prepared to run into the ground), and Hank Reardon, (handsome, strong-willed, single-minded of purpose, and creator of Reardon Metal, a better-than-steel product, and supporter of his parasitic wife, brother and mother). Oh yeah, Hank is (one of) Dagny's lover(s)--in the language of the day--his mistress. Another main character, Francisco D'Anconio, is the scion to a great South American Copper fortune, a former lover of Dagny, and a (seeming) turncoat to the cause of industrial power and independence. Francisco, much to Dagny's dismay and Hank's disgust, seemingly lives the life of a playboy, happy to erode the fortune his father built and that he, once, long ago, helped to expand. Last, but hardly least, is the eponymous John Galt, who has disappeared from the public at large and established a hidden capitalist commune (I know, the phrase does sound oxymoronic) deep in the valleys of Colorado. He has been joined by a disenchanted band of brothers, consisting, of, among others, a couple of big-business types who have had it up to here with government intrusion, a composer, a judge, a professor, and--now it can be told--Francisco D'Anconia, who is secretly part of the commune and a fifth columnist in the decadent outside world. The goal of what is charmingly called "Galt's Gulch," is to live by their cherished values until things get so bad on the outside that they will be able to resume their separate roles in a new America with a very limited central government. ( I know this sounds subversive, but think of the state "withering away.")

Oh, I almost forgot one guy--there's an honest to goodness pirate (and saboteur) named Ragnar Danneksjold who robs from the (bad) rich and gives to the (good) rich. While he describes himself as a kind of reverse Robin Hood who robs from the poor and gives to the rich, in fairness to both him and the author, the "rich" from whom he robs are the governments who have "looted" their own citizens and are hell-bent on redistributing their money to "needy" "People's States" the world over.

By the way, the world of Atlas Shrugged takes place in the indefinite future, and is inhabited by America (which is on the wane) and the aforementioned "People's States" of Europe and Asia, which have already arrived where the U.S. of A is headed unless John Galt and his posse can come to the rescue. The book has a touch of science-fiction to it, including the best that modern (governmental) science can come up with -- a sonic ray that disintegrates everything in its tracks, a revolutionary motor invented (and destroyed) by John Galt, and some pretty ingenious torture devices later used in an attempt to break him. Oh, remember how I mentioned that Dagny had been involved with both Francisco and and Hank? Although they both love her as deeply as their selfishness allows, they are selfless enough to step aside for the one man even more worthy of her love than they. If you're thinking John Galt, go to the head of the (industrialist) class.

There is, of course, a supporting cast of characters, and they are almost to a man, as loathsome as their Dickensian names suggest: Wesley Mouch, Balph (yes, with a "B") Eubanks, the thuggish Cuffy Meigs, Claude Slagenhop, a Mr. Balch, and Ben Nealy (think "Kneely"). Lest you mistakenly think well of him, Miss Rand describes Mr. Neely as a "bulky man with a soft, sullen face" whose skin "in the soft bluish light had the tinge of butter." Would you buy a used country from such a man?

The heroes, to a man, (and, yes, they are all men) get much better names. Oddly, the hero, John Galt, does call to mind the word "gall" (and "Gaul"), which is not usually a compliment, but he certainly had gall in the minds of his country's misguided leader to refuse to cave in to their demands of compromise. Remember, one man's gall is another man's backbone.

So what, some fifty-three years after its publication, does one take away from the book and its impact? As I reflect on the counter-cultural 60's in which I came of age, I'm surprised to examine how well much of the the "new left's" doctrines comported with Objectivism. Forgetting the great economic divide between capitalism and socialism (and, admittedly, that's a lot to forget), both were anti-big government, anti-institutional, unconventional in their loving arrangements ("open marriage," "free love," etc.), living arrangements ("Galt's Gulch"), atheism, and--lest we forget--selfishness. (Even the tribal rock musical "Hair" bemoaned, in the song "Easy to be Hard," the lack of sensitivity of one of their own: "how can People be so heartless?" When the song went on to ask "do you only care about the bleeding crowd, how about a needing friend?" it certainly reminded me of a few of the selfish lefties I have known and, occasionally, loved. I think they owe more of a debt to Miss Rand than they are willing to acknowledge. Oddly enough--despite their opposite views on obligations to society at large--I have found conservatives to be more caring and, yes, selfless, on a one-to-one basis than their liberal counterparts. (This, of course, is purely my anecdotal impression, and is something supported by neither science nor reason.)

The internet tells of the numerous efforts to turn "Atlas" into either a feature film or mini-series. If properly cast and edited, it could make for a good story. Leading ladies as prominent as the late Farah Fawcett, Julia Roberts, Angelina Jolie, and, most recently, Charlize Theron, have all expressed interest in the character of Dagny. Let's face it, she is a great character, a beautiful, smart, courageous woman, looking only for a man strong enough to conquer her. In her affair with Hank Reardon, she is able to look beyond his (admittedly empty) marriage and become his mistress (something he later conceals in order to protect her image and for which he signs his company away in return), she proudly admits to in an live interview, rather than be an apologist for the corrupt and crumbling government.

While it is convenient to pigeon-hole Miss Rand's philosophy, it is not too hard to see why she has enemies both right and left. She had no use for religion (organized or otherwise), in fact, she saw it as one of the two great enemies of man's independence (and referred to religion as "mystics of the spirit"). The other foe was comprised of the enemies of the profit motive (collectively, "mystics of muscle"). Think of it as "Body and Soul" without the music. This philosophy is embodied in a speech of John Galt's which consumes nearly sixty printed pages. Ironic how the only speaker on the international scene still extant (if subdued) to rival Mr. Galt in length, if not philosophy, is Fidel Castro. Some would say they deserve each other. I would argue that the two would make excellent keynote speakers at an insomniac's convention. Sign me up!

So here is Dagny and her leading men, sexually independent and atheistic, bursting forth in the cold-war ridden mid-50's, when our chief enemy was being called, "godless, atheistic communism." Hardly a blueprint for family values and religion, let alone a 50's sit-com! And as for the selfishness, I have to admit to possessing more than a little in the innermost recesses of my heart. While I believe in charity, I also believe it begins at home, and that if more people took responsibility for their own lives (and those in their family who look to them for support ) the world (to invoke not one, but two cliches in a single sentence) would be a better place in which to live. I also believe that an environment which permits innovation to flourish is by far more desirable than a managed economy, however beneficent its goals. That said, I would be interested (and would welcome comments) on what I see to be one fatal flaw to the Objectivist's vision of a perfect society. It seems to presuppose that good money drives out bad (when the opposite is often true--seen any silver quarters lately?).

Although I think Hank Reardon, if left to his own devices would always do his best to make the highest quality product available, his success depends on others doing the same, and does not account for other's (selfish) failings. We were told by many (including the aforementioned Mr. Greenspan) that the best policeman for the economy was "the market." The unfettered market, may I remind you, did nothing to prevent or avert the near collapse of the U.S. (if not the world's) economy. While I don't besmirch the profit motive, were we not, just two years ago, almost destroyed by selfishness? Where were the John Galts and Hank Reardons when layer upon layer of compost was dumped upon the economy in the guise of "AAA" subprime collateralized debt obligations? Were the best "heroes" we could come up with the Paulsons and his merry band of short-sellers who had the prescience to know that the emperor was wearing no clothes? While an Objectivist might argue that people should be willing to pay the price for their own bad decisions, what about the millions of innocent people (from which I exclude many of the people who applied for and got "no docs" mortgages based on their own innacurate representations of creditworthiness) who lost jobs, pensions, and more in the aftermath of the melt-down. Who, but government, could have spoken for them? Let's face it, without the massive government intervention begun under Pres. Bush and continued under Pres. Obama, we would not be on the slow recovery that we are experiencing today. And, no, the answer is not more, but better, regulation. If one has any doubt on this subject, witness the S.E.C.'s performance in investigating the Madoff " looting" (to borrow one of Miss Rand's favorite words). Ideally, people should have just avoided dealing with Bernie's "too good to be true" promises, but we need the S.E.C. to toilet train the dog rather than show how well they can sweep up after him.

Bottom line--"Atlas" is an overly long and not very well-written book, with compelling characters whose actions exemplify an interesting, but imperfect, philosophy. Unsatisfying as it is to political and economic extremists of every stripe, the world is too complicated a place to be governed by such (and, perhaps, any) philosophy alone. Tax people to death and you remove the incentive for innovation. Tax people too little and you deprive the country of undeniably vital services (which services and to what degree they require funding is open to debate). Should the courts legislate? Probably not, but the legislatures certainly should (look at the legislative stalemate in my home state of New York and you'll see a prototype of inaction in action). Is the constitution a "living document," or should we be frozen by the words of the 18th century luminaries who, however wise and insightful, could never have foreseen, for one example, stem-cell research. How, for example, could capital punishment, which then extended to horse-stealing, now be considered "cruel and unusual" when now restricted to premeditated murder? And doesn't "In God we Trust" on our currency violate the separation of church and state? Does the "right to bear arms" have limits? I don't propose to have the answers to any of these questions other than to suggest that there are no absolutes and, more specifically, neither Ayn Rand nor John Galt have convinced me otherwise.

What Miss Rand does accomplish, and this is a signal achievement, is demonstrate that selfishness (I'd prefer the term "enlightened self-interest") is not necessarily a dirty word, and, whether we admit it or not, is very much a part of human nature. It's what makes most of us provide for ourselves and our loved ones. Remove it, and society as we know it would cease to exist. The "social contract" would be irretrievably broken. Most of us act in what we perceive of as being in our best interest, and have good reason to resent unwarranted government intrusion. But we must accept society saying, "sorry Chip, you can't open up your Bimmer to 110 on the highways, no matter how much fun it is. Nor can you drink, or twitter when you get behind the wheel. You also can't abuse your spouse, child, or someone over whom you exercise a position of trust." Not everybody has the right to be a doctor, lawyer, priest, or scoutmaster. Both society and the governing institutions have responsibilities to oversee such activities. The list, though not limitless, goes on and on. How we limit it is up to our elected representatives and the courts which interpret the laws they pass and administer. Laws to protect those in need of help are essential, and without them, you have anarchy, something of which even Miss Rand would disapprove. But "Atlas Shrugged" mattered when it was written fifty-three years ago, and still does. Read it, I double dare you.