On Divine Capitalism

Part I of II on Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead: My Thoughts on Objectivism.

There is a certain irony in reading The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand and using an Amnesty International card as a bookmark. It's something my dad said to me when I first picked up the hefty title, and I didn't understand it at the time, even though I had done some preliminary research into objectivism. However, after completing the book, I smile at it myself, and I'm left questioning a lot of what I once thought to be true, which is the mark of any good book on philosophy. Not to tell, as a Wikipedia article, but to teach and guide a reader to plumb the innermost depths of its subject matter, which in this case centered around two main ideologies. One which I'll cover here, and another which I'll get to in a few days, because it requires some more thought. This isn't a review of the book (I do recommend it), but rather a reflection on what gave me pause when I had finished it.

First, as the title of this post suggests, we'll delve into the divinity of capitalism, otherwise known as objectivism. I remember reading some articles on the matter before I'd gotten too far into the book, and that was a grave error on my part. Not that the topic is too complex to tackle in an article format, but it's difficult to understand without a story to back it up. In The Fountainhead, the story was that of architect Howard Roark, a man so unwavering in his faith to his craft that he never compromises on it. He is in love with the work, to the detriment of his career at first, and yet no matter what the corporate world throws at him, he marches on.

He starved himself when no one would hire him. Sat in his spartan apartment with the heat off in the New York City winter. He took up a job at a quarry when he ran out of money, and he was sued after building something provocative. He was slandered by the media and disrespected by his peers, and yet he didn't stop. The essence of capitalism is the individual nature of success - that anyone who wishes to become wealthy can within its protective aura. So does Rand portray Howard Roark. True, it's the clichéd misunderstood artist all over again, but this time it's less about the art and more about the drive.

Howard Roark has an enemy. Well, multiple enemies, but only one who openly proclaims himself to be his enemy. Peter Keating is driven to success quite early in his career, and yet it's a misguided pursuit. Without spoiling the book, it's fair to say that there comes a time when each man faces the life he has created for himself, and it's one of the most compelling parts of the narrative. There are other characters in the book as well, and in fact the real "enemy" of Howard Roark is not Peter Keating. It's collectivism.

It's worth noting that Rand's life in the Soviet Union (see the connection to collectivism?) and her subsequent escape to America definitely influenced her views on capitalism and pushed them into a holier light than they should have been. It's quite interesting that Rand put Howard Roark, the ideal capitalist and by definition objectivist, in the same book as Peter Keating, who is the type of person capitalism actually breeds in our world. Perhaps this was by design, but regardless, it's incredibly poignant to look back on both character's lives at the end of the book.

So now the obvious question arises: Is Ayn Rand right? Or rather, is objectivism accurate? Well, the question is inherently faulty, but I suppose it can be answered simply by: It depends. First, what do we mean by "right"? If all philosophy is centered around the meaning of life, and I am assuming a congruence in meaning and purpose, then Rand would seemingly answer that question with an almost egotistical response. Why, the meaning of life must be the pursuit of oneself, of one's work, unencumbered by anyone or anything else. Of course, I'm by no means an expert, but after reading The Fountainhead, that's the only answer I can come up with on Rand's behalf. We must learn to be streamlined. To live for ourselves and let the world pass us by without care. Howard Roark was asked once by a prominent architectural critic who maligned Roark what he thought of him. His reply was simple, "But I don't think of you."

Such is the answer to one of philosophies other central queries answered: the search for serenity. Objectivism would posit that there no greater peace than passion, and when it is properly focused, nothing in the world can harm you. When you work with diligence, true diligence, there should be nothing which can deter you from your goal. Roark achieved such serenity when he sat in a cold apartment alone, jobless, and when he worked until he bled at a granite quarry, because he knew there was nothing more important than his work.

But we must be careful in accepting objectivism, as it doesn't account for everything. While my thoughts on the subject are still forming, I can say with surety that any divinity in capitalism has been corrupted by greed. Howard Roark was a good man, who didn't take advantage of anyone to ascend in his career. He worked honestly and he loved his art to a fault. Objectivism would posit that there is no greater exaltation than that - and accordingly there is nothing else needed for a good, successful life. However, there is also the component of human avarice and deceit in the corporate world. Taking these things into consideration presents certain faults in objectivism. Of course, artistic integrity is lost on the corporate world, and I speak not just of the traditional form of art. There's art in everything we do, and if there was a mass awakening to that simple fact, perhaps objectivism would be the be all end all. But that's naïvely optimistic to say the least.

So while I took some valuable lessons from The Fountainhead on contentedness through artistic integrity, I would not say it changed my world view to be mostly objectivist, and I assert once more that Rand's fight against Soviet politics entrenched her deeper into the belief that American capitalism was pure. However, there was a second key idea which Rand explored towards the end of her book which shook the very foundations of my person. That's what I will explore in my next post, after I've settled on a conclusion, or at least formulated a complete thought process. For now, I can only say that objectivism is a desperate ideal to which we cannot hope to strive towards, but from which we can learn to be focused on our own passions, rather than caught in the web of other people's thoughts.