Jim Syler’s Reviews > The Passion of Ayn Rand > Status Update

I think I've figured out my thing about Rand—and I don't think I'm the only one.

I've felt that, if she says it, it almost certainly must be true. But—that doesn't make sense, does it? Indeed, blind faith in others' judgement is very much against what Rand preaches! But—well, let's take this silly thing about facial hair. I read this, and think—am I immoral because I let my beard grow out? Am I doing something wrong? Should I shave it?

Obviously that's dumb. That's not even what she's saying; she's saying that it's a symptom of something, not that there's something inherently wrong with facial hair.

But that's just the thing—that's the reaction. She said it, so it must be true; or, more accurately, she said it, therefore it's presumptively true; one should accept it barring reason to believe the contrary. But even then, be careful—disagreeing with Rand is dangerous. You may think she's wrong, and then discover (or, worse, not discover, though it be true) that her thinking was more subtle than you thought, and you were wrong and she right after all.

And I guess that's the thing, the reason: Her thinking is subtle, it is careful, it is involved, and it is pretty damn comprehensive. Most importantly, it is consistent—she has thought almost any issue almost all the way through, and therefore it's very dangerous to disagree lest you be shown to be naive and foolish.

And that's the thing, right there. That's the error, and it's an error on my part, a place where I've inadvertently absorbed societal teaching and applied it automatically in an unexpected and, ultimately, nonsensical way (well, I mean, that teaching itself is nonsensical, but here it's even more so). But, again, I'm fairly sure I'm far from the only one. This is, I think, the place where the belief—or at least the feeling—that Rand is infallible, that her philosophy is complete, that to disagree with her is not only error, it's a kind of heresy, comes from.

First off, it just makes life so much easier if we can just blindly believe what some source says, especially about moral questions. You don't have to think about it anymore! You don't have to worry! Just do what they say is right, and you're golden. It's a huge weight off of you. I've never succumbed to any such thing, but I certainly understand the temptation.

Second, it just sort of makes sense. If someone is consistently right—especially, as in this case, you can see why they're right—it becomes really easy to presume they're right about everything. But that, in itself, isn't really the thing. It's not really even a problem. The problem comes with the Third thing, the thing that I mentioned above, the social instruction, and more specifically and pointedly, the social pressure.

See, the fear isn't being wrong where Rand (or whatever authority you feel you should feel this way about) is right. That's no big deal; indeed it's just part of the normal human—indeed, rational—learning experience. The fear is of feeling stupid and naive and childish and recalcitrant for refusing to listen to your betters. And you will certainly be called out on that by others. This is precisely what "you should have known better" means. It means that the Authority was right, you were wrong, and, specifically, you were wrong for not taking the authority (whether that be a person, a deity, or just general societal wisdom—"common sense") at their word and believing it because they said it. This is what feeling stupid means. It's not "stupid" in any denotative sense at all! Indeed, it's a sign of intelligence to refuse to accept what authorities say as true without sufficient evidence! But it's "stupid" because "everybody knows" what's right, because they blindly accept what the authority says, without evidence other than the Authority has been right before, and you went against that, and were wrong, or it didn't work. I guess "stupid" essentially always means "foolish," not "unintelligent." And it is the fool who flouts social convention and does his own thing—unless it works.

But—to continue—this is especially foolish, in a literal sense, to do this to Rand—whether or not she invites it (and she kind of does)—because of her emphasis on rationality and questioning the status quo. But I feel that if I go against what she says in anything, because she's right about so much, that unless I'm really sure she's wrong (which I am about some things), I'm being foolish and unwise, and if I turn out to be wrong—even if my sin is just not being certain she's right!—I will be worthy of ridicule from those who (correctly in this view) take her more seriously.

But this is dumb! I'm sure that someday this will be used as evidence that I'm stupid, and unwise, and blindly ignorant, because I feel the impulse to blindly follow Rand. But this is just a human trait—even if Rand plays into it—and those who would say that are only doing a different version of the same thing! "You were an idiot for not knowing she was full of shit in the first place!" those people would say. Their objection is not that I'm not thinking fully for myself and am ever tempted to take anyone else's word on moral issues—their objection is that I chose the wrong authority to follow blindly!

The lesson here, of course, is simple: Rand's true teaching—even if she forgets it herself, because she thinks she's got all the answers—is to never take anyone's word on moral issues, and to work it out yourself. If you turn out to be wrong—okay! That's better than blindly following (or—ahem—blindly believing in your own conclusions), because you can change, and learn, and grow, and progress. And if you die before you can do so, others can follow your example and build on what you've done and uncover more truth in your stead.

A coda: Yes, it remains the case that Rand is such a brilliant and subtle and comprehensive thinker that it is very unwise to simply reject and discard anything she says because it seems wrong. But one can, and should, nonetheless refuse to accept such teachings until you understand why she holds it, and then you can accept it reject it on its merits.

And then of course you may realize later that she was more subtle than you had thought, and was right all along. That has happened to me, with her. That's okay! That's not you being stupid—that's how rationality works!