On Being an Objectivist
If you’ve not already done so, drop by and read Peter Saint-Andre’s journal entry “Why I Am Not an Objectivist.”
I can identify quite a bit with Peter’s perspective. Every few months or so, something will remind me how long it’s been since I’ve read much (or any) Rand. And it doesn’t bother me.
I enjoy the mental freedom of looking at things from my own perspective, without the anger and the gravity of her personality. It’s funny to notice this, and realize how much of a young person’s (my young person’s) sense of Objectivism was colored by Rand’s personality.
In recent years, I’ve settled on the words to describe what I’m most grateful for in her writings: the importance of using your mind to its fullest (”rationality”?) and treating people as ends in themselves. These two ideas distill the majority of what was most valuable to me.
But there are so many other things packaged with her philosophy that are disturbing: the harsh judgment of “non-heroic” art (such as jazz? I wonder), the subtle or not-so-subtle encouragement towards self-judgment and repression, the angry denunciations of ideological opponents. A narrow conception of virtue. And some preemptive package-dealing, on her part, about what everyone should believe.
Though the trend had begun long before, my strongest feelings of independence from Rand arose when I began studying mindfulness in 1999. It didn’t take much reading of Thich Nhat Hanh’s writings to realize that (a) there was something valuable here that I absolutely had to learn and (b) to get at the heart of it, I’d have to check my premises at the door. I needed what Howard Roark “never had”: an open mind. So I did it. It even felt a little sneaky! But unsurprisingly, nobody threw any junk in it that I wasn’t able to sift out afterwards with some reflection.
Maybe this is what makes me feel the most distant from the word “Objectivism,” the sense that being an Objectivist to the hilt requires a closed mind. And yet there’s an argument against this, that Objectivism actually facilitates an open mind, even though it means telling Ayn not to come to the party.
Nathaniel Branden wrote an excellent essay on “The Benefits and Hazards of The Philosophy of Ayn Rand,” which may be something I need to do myself—to write down and document what I’ve found valuable and not. I’d write not only for the benefit of newcomers, but to repay Ayn in a truly grateful fashion, to contribute to the public record about her value. To help dispel the unhelpful perception that she was either an angel or the devil with a funny cigarette holder.
Am I an Objectivist? I’m certainly someone who learned a tremendous amount from Objectivism, particularly about the importance and nature of a system of philosophy. I can’t count how many times I’ve felt the advantages of a clear sense of the structure of philosophy.
But I’m in a weird place where anyone who looks at me from the outside would say “he’s an Objectivist,” and yet I’m unsure. I participate in “Objectivist” communities, I have many close “Objectivist” friends (including my wife), and I have internalized many core Objectivist values. Yet I reject any constraint that this label might put on my freedom of thought.
Where Peter has found himself eschewing the Objectivist label, I find myself more inclined to simply broaden my concept of an Objectivist: someone who agrees with a reason-based epistemology, enlightened self-interest, and individual rights.
And where Peter seems to imply (although I don’t think it’s really true) that ideological differences don’t matter to him, I’m becoming more refined about what matters to me: I need my understanding of the mind and ethics to create the good life for myself, and I need politics to keep other people off my back and out of my pockets. Other than this, I don’t much care what other people believe.
And so with those caveats I do still consider myself an Objectivist, in the broad sense, and I trust people like Peter won’t mind being loosely lumped in that category too.
Who knows what either of us will call ourselves in a few months. I’m sure it will be a fun trip, though. My thanks to Peter for the thoughtful line of inquiry.
Hi Joshua,
I read Peter St. Andre’s essay as you suggested. However, I was mildly disappointed. It doesn’t say much of anything. I was expecting an intellectual examination of objectivism. The sentiments he expressed are fine, I suppose - but they don’t have any real content other than the idea of not wanting to fight cultural or intellectual battles.
I’m going to add you to my friends on LiveJournal. I am known as SongofApollo there.
Cheers,
Joe
Joe,
I should point out that my link above is to Peter’s personal journal, and not a formal essay. Peter is a terrific essayist, and quite capable of examining the intellectual content of Objectivism. But I don’t think this is what he was trying to do; rather he was expressing his personal musings on why he doesn’t think of himself as an Objectivist.
Joshua
Hi Joshua,
It’s true that I don’t think of myself as an Objectivist anymore. Indeed, I don’t think of myself as anything but an individual these days. For someone who has written something called The Ism Book, I’m shockingly disinterested in identifying myself as an -ist of any variety. As Haim Ginott once said, “labeling is disabling”. I really don’t find any benefit in identifying myself as an Objectivist or a libertarian or an Aristotelian or whatever. What’s in it for me? It doesn’t help me understand reality or myself more deeply to explictly align myself with a philosophy or ideology. In fact, it seems that it can be positively harmful to do so. Or at least so I’ve found in my own experience.
Hi Josh,
I was surprised to see you using the common closed mind/open mind distinction. Rand or Peikoff or someone very nicely described a third option: the active mind. I have always found that to be an excellent demolishing of this false dichotomy — like so many others that Objectivism solves (it is such a simple idea — no doubt non-Objectivists have also noted this option). I never miss an opportunity to explain this particular one to non-Objectivists: colleagues at work, other friends, family, whoever. It is one of those common cliche-level dichotomies — like the theory/practice dichotomy — that Objectivism provides a nice, easy-to-grasp insight on.
Other than that, I enjoyed this blog entry. I am glad that you can still call yourself an Objectivist. Although I respect Peter’s claim that he sees no value in such labels for himself, there certainly is for me: like all concepts, they can be short hand means to convey a set of ideas quickly to others. When I tell certain people in certain contexts that I am an Objectivist, they know what that means. Or when I tell colleagues at work that I am a libertarian, they know what that means — I don’t need to list my positions on 7 +/- 2 issues just so they can form a solid abstraction and then relate that to the isms they already know.
Yes, isms can be package deals, that one can then waste time unpacking for some people. When that happens, you just have to nip it in the bud. In the end, I don’t have time to care if some people walk away thinking my beliefs aren’t quite what they in fact are.
For me, “Labels” and “isms” are very useful indeed.
– Tom Stone
Hey Peter!
I really should have posted this before, but right after I wrote the note to Joshua about how I appreciated his gesture of including me in the community of “Objectivist Bloggers” but I felt uncomfortable with that, I reread your comment and realized just how much I agreed with it. I really like Jung, but I don’t consider myself a Jungian (and I doubt other people would either). I’m really interested in Zen, but I’m not exactly a Buddhist. If other people want to try to redefine Objectivism, or use terms like “neo-Objectivist” or “fellow traveler,” and so on, that’s fine with me — it just honestly doesn’t matter that much to me.
I think I vaguely recall who Haim Ginott is, but I’m off to Google him now.
Best — and I really promise I will send an email soon —
Moira
Tom,
Thanks for your input above about the open/closed mind issue. For some reason I didn’t get the auto e-mail when you submitted your comment, so I just now came across your comments.
I have to confess that I had not ever heard of the active mind dichotomy-smasher you refer to! I agree, however, that it’s an elegant solution to an often annoying dichotomy.
That said, I want to clarify what I meant when I wrote that I have “the sense that being an Objectivist to the hilt requires a closed mind.” I don’t mean that I regard a “closed” mind as central to Objectivism per se, but rather that so many people who consider themselves dyed-in-the wool Objectivists do have a closed mind: they are quick to judge, quick to dismiss, quick to demonstrate that they have no value for alternative points of view. And the right word for this is not “active” but “closed.”
Certainly, the Objectivists that I associate with don’t act this way, and that is why I favor their company. But it is also the case that many of us find ourselves on (one side or the other of) the “verge” of being an Objectivist. And the fire-and-brimstone attitude, and its legacy in the broader culture, has much to do with this.
Like you, however, I like the economy of “isms.” And the fact that I agree with the basic principles of Objectivism makes me comfortable with the name. I also find that, as I get older, I am more and more skilled at handling people’s objections in ways that won’t generate an argument, which is helpful.
Come to think of it, I should blog about that sometime....
Joshua