To many, the title of my talk today must sound like an oxymoron. After all, how can virtue and selfishness share the same idea space? Well, clear your head and open your mind, and we’ll explore some ethical propositions you may not have considered before. But first, a little personal history. I promise this is relevant, so stay with me.

When I was 20 years old, I was going to college in the daytime and working in the evenings to pay the bills. My job at Fox Photo, for $2.20 / hr, was splicing rolls of photographic film together so that they could be processed into pictures. I started work around 5 or 6 PM, sorting and labeling all the film rolls the route carriers had brought in that day.  Since my hands were small, I then got to splice all the 110 format film together to make a continuous roll. A guy named Brian came in around 8 PM and did all the 35mm film. After spending several hours in our absolutely dark closet sized rooms, we would emerge like moles, squinting in the brightness and bearing our reels of latent memories in lightproof bags. By this time, around 9 or 10 PM, the processing guy, Ben, would have wandered in, and he would start up the processor machine. The first reel would be ready around midnight, so the printing girl, Cheryl, would arrive to start printing the negatives onto rolls of paper. She would process the paper and have rolls of finished pictures ready for the early morning people, who came in around 4 AM. They would cut and sort the negatives and prints to go back into the customer envelopes. This routine, which happened six days a week, made it possible for a customer to drop off film anywhere in West Texas or Eastern New Mexico within a 150 mile radius of Lubbock, and they would have their pictures 24 hours later. (One hour photo hadn’t been invented yet.)

Working in a small interdependent team like this, we night workers all became good friends. Brian and Cheryl were young and single like me, so we developed a routine that went like this: When I got home from work around 10 PM, I would go straight to bed, then get up at 4 AM. I would put a big pot of coffee on the stove.  Cheryl and Brian, who were both full-time workers, would drive over to my little alleyway apartment in her dark green fastback Mustang. He was just getting off work, and she was on her “lunch” break. We’d drink coffee, smoke cigarettes, and talk for 30 minutes or so. Then Brian would go home to sleep, Cheryl would go back to work, and I’d start on my homework due later that day. After my classes, at 5 or 6 PM, I’d be back at work sorting and splicing film.

Cheryl had dropped out of high school to be with some guy, and when I met her, she had a lovely 3-year-old daughter named Penny, and that nifty Mustang, but the guy was long gone. We began spending our free time together (what little we had). She talked of getting her GED so she could go to college and build a better future for herself and Penny. I offered to tutor her in math, her most difficult subject, and we spent many hours working to build her knowledge and her confidence. I would come over on afternoons when my class schedule allowed, we would do our math session, and then she would cook an early dinner for the three of us, before I had to go to work. We usually had a little time for fun on weekends, like going to the park or a free outdoor concert on a Sunday afternoon, or on rare occasions, we would go out to a club or a restaurant if we could scrape together enough money. It was a wonderful time.

Cheryl taught me many things in that year I was finishing college, before I moved away to start my new life. As I was tutoring her in math, she was tutoring me in the more practical aspects of life - things like relationships, responsibility, and love - areas where I was a complete novice. She also introduced me to the philosophy of Ayn (pronounced eyen) Rand, by giving me a little book to read called Anthem. Cheryl was no dummy. I still have this tattered paperback, my only memento of her.

Some of you are familiar with Ayn Rand’s works. Her most well known novels are The Fountainhead, and of course her masterpiece Atlas Shrugged. The philosophy she developed, which is explained in the novels, is called Objectivism, and it tends to polarize people into two camps – either they think it’s a work of genius, or they think it’s a load of crap. Since I’m going to talk about it today, you can assume I fell into the first category. I had never heard of this school of thought, but I was intrigued, and after Anthem,  I began reading her other writings. It made sense to me. It was rational. In years to come, I would occasionally run into another fan or opponent of Objectivism, and we would have hours of conversation. I think for many of us, it became a substitute for the irrational religion we had rejected in our youth.

Ayn’s admirers can be found all over. If you go to Disney world and walk all the way to the far end of the lake at EPCOT Center, there is a pavilion to commemorate great American people and events. As you walk into the rotunda of this magnificent structure, you are confronted with a curved marble wall in which are carved words of wisdom by famous Americans. Dead center, in the most prominent position, is a quote from Ayn Rand. Walt was apparently a big fan.

For perspective, it helps to know that Ayn Rand was born in St. Petersburg, Russia, in 1905. She witnessed the Bolshevik revolution as a teenager and the early years of communist rule under Vladimir Lenin before emigrating to the U.S. in 1926. Having seen the beginnings of the Soviet empire firsthand, she became a fierce opponent of any form of socialism. Her writing makes some of the most passionate counter-arguments to the socialist ideal first described by Michael Bakunin and refined by Karl Marx, which proposes: “From each according to his abilities; to each according to his needs.”

Although Objectivism was touted as a complete philosophical system, ethics was the centerpiece. The Objectivist ethics was based on the principles of individualism and self-interest, or selfishness. Rand adopted the dialectic style of nineteenth century philosopher George Hegel, and cast her arguments as a contest between opposing concepts. It was objectivism vs. subjectivism; selfishness vs. selflessness, and egoism vs. altruism. One critic called Rand’s ideas “radical libertarianism.” Her philosophical world allowed no gray areas, only extremes. Thus, her writing brims with passion and absolutism. Though an atheist, she often writes with the fire of a religious evangelist, as you shall see.

To begin our exploration, we must first understand what is meant by selfishness. From Rand’s book, whose title I appropriated for my talk today, we have this:

In popular usage, the word "selfishness" is a synonym' of evil; the image it conjures is of a murderous brute who tramples over piles of corpses to achieve his own ends, who cares for no living being and pursues nothing but the gratification of the mindless whims of any immediate moment.

Yet the exact meaning and dictionary definition of the word "selfishness" is: concern with one's own interests.

This concept does not include a moral evaluation; it does not tell us whether concern with one's own interests is good or evil; nor does it tell us what constitutes man's actual interests. It is the task of ethics to answer such questions.

["Introduction," VOS, ix; pb vii.]

The Objectivist ethics proudly advocates and upholds rational selfishness - which means: the values required for man's survival … not the values produced by the desires, the emotions, the "aspirations," the feelings, the whims or the needs of [others], who have never outgrown the primordial practice of human sacrifices, have never discovered an industrial society and can conceive of no self-interest but that of grabbing the loot of the moment.

The Objectivist ethics holds that human good does not require human sacrifices and cannot be achieved by the sacrifice of anyone to anyone. It holds that the rational interests of men do not clash - that there is no conflict of interests among men who do not desire the unearned, who [neither] make sacrifices nor accept them, who deal with one another as traders, giving value for value.

["The Objectivist Ethics," VOS, 28; pb 31.]

Note that this definition carefully excludes taking anything you want just because you want it and can get away with it. Rand’s point is that nobody should feel they owe anything to anyone, if they have acquired what is theirs honestly and by their own effort. She goes to great lengths to declare that the real evil in the world is the idea of altruism. Here are some more quotes:

Men have been taught that the ego is the synonym of evil, and selflessness the ideal of virtue. But the creator is the egoist in the absolute sense, and the selfless man is the one who does not think, feel, judge or act. These are functions of the self.

Here the basic reversal is most deadly. The issue has been perverted and man has been left no alternative-and no freedom. As poles of good and evil, he was offered two conceptions: egoism and altruism. Egoism was held to mean the sacrifice of others to self. Altruism - the sacrifice of self to others. This tied man irrevocably to other men and left him nothing but a choice of pain: his own pain borne for the sake of others, or pain inflicted upon others for the sake of self. When it was added that man must find joy in [sacrifice], the trap was closed. Man was forced to accept masochism as his ideal -under the threat that sadism was his only alternative. This was the greatest fraud ever perpetrated on mankind.

This was the device by which dependence and suffering were perpetuated as fundamentals of life.

The choice is not self-sacrifice or domination. The choice is independence or dependence - the code of the creator or the code of the second-hander. This is the basic issue. It rests upon the alternative of life or death. The code of the creator is built on the needs of the reasoning mind, which allows man to survive. The code of the second-hander is built on the needs of a mind incapable of survival. All that which proceeds from man's independent ego is good. All that which proceeds from man's dependence upon men is evil.

The egoist in the absolute sense is not the man who sacrifices others. He is the man who stands above the need of using others in any manner. He does not function through them. He is not concerned with them in any primary matter. Not in his aim, not in his motive, not in his thinking, not in his desires, not in the source of his energy. He does not exist for any other man - and he asks no other man to exist for him. This is the only form of brotherhood and mutual respect possible between men.

["The Soul of an Individualist," FNI, 94; pb 51.]

So, Rand’s proposal is that virtue, as it applies to the self, lies in producing enough value that we can sustain our own lives, either directly, or by trading what we produce with others. Being self-ish then means living for ourselves, not for other people. If everyone does this, there is no need for anyone to live for someone else. Thus, altruism has no purpose. Here is what she says about altruism:

What is the moral code of altruism? The basic principle of altruism is that man has no right to exist for his own sake, that service to others is the only justification of his existence, and that self-sacrifice is his highest moral duty, virtue and value.

Do not hide behind such superficialities as whether you should or should not give a dime to a beggar. That is not the issue. The issue is whether you do or do not have the right to exist without giving him that dime. The issue is whether you must keep buying your life, dime by dime, from any beggar who might choose to approach you. The issue is whether the need of others is the first mortgage on your life and the moral purpose of your existence. The issue is whether man is to be regarded as a sacrificial animal. Any man of self-esteem will answer: "No." Altruism says: "Yes."

["Faith and Force: The Destroyers of the, Modern World," PWNI, 74; pb 61.]

Why is it moral to serve the happiness of others, but not your own? If enjoyment is a value, why is it moral when experienced by others, but immoral when experienced by you? If the sensation of eating a cake is a value, why is it an immoral indulgence in your stomach, but a moral goal for you to achieve in the stomach of others? Why is it immoral for you to desire, but moral for others to do so? Why is it immoral to produce a value and keep it, but moral to give it away? And if it is not moral for you to keep a value, why is it moral for others to accept it? If you are selfless and virtuous when you give it, are they not selfish and vicious when they take it? Does virtue consist of serving vice? Is the moral purpose of those who are good, self‑immolation for the sake of those who are evil?

The answer you evade, the monstrous answer is: No, the takers are not evil, provided they did not earn the value you gave them. It is not immoral for them to accept it, provided they are unable to produce it, unable to deserve it, unable to give you any value in return. It is not immoral for them to enjoy it, provided they do not obtain it by right.

Such is the secret core of your creed, the other half of your double standard: it is immoral to live by your own effort, but moral to live by the effort of others‑it is immoral to consume your own product, but moral to consume the products of others ‑ it is immoral to earn, but moral to mooch ‑ it is the parasites who are the moral justification for the existence of the producers, but the existence of the parasites is an end in itself ‑ it is evil to profit by achievement, but good to profit by sacrifice ‑ it is evil to create your own happiness, but good to enjoy it at the price of the blood of others.

Your code divides mankind into two castes and commands them to live by opposite rules: those who may desire anything and those who may desire nothing, the chosen and the damned, the riders and the carriers, the eaters and the eaten. What standard determines your caste? What passkey admits you to the moral elite? The passkey is lack of value.

Whatever the value involved, it is your lack of it that gives you a claim upon those who don't lack it. It is your need that gives you a claim to rewards. If you are able to satisfy your need, your ability annuls your right to satisfy it. But a need you are unable to satisfy gives you first right to the lives of mankind.

[The altruist mentality is this:] If you succeed, any man who fails is your master; if you fail, any man who succeeds is your serf.

[GS, FNI, 178; pb 144.]

Even though altruism declares that "it is more blessed to give than to receive," it does not work that way in practice. The givers are never blessed; the more they give, the more is demanded of them; complaints, reproaches and insults are the only response they get for practicing altruism's virtues (or for their actual virtues). Altruism cannot permit a recognition of virtue; it cannot permit self‑esteem or moral innocence. Guilt is altruism's stock in trade, and the inducing of guilt is its only means of self‑perpetuation.  If the giver is not kept under a torrent of degrading, demeaning accusations, he might take a look around and put an end to the self‑sacrificing.

Altruists are concerned only with those who suffer ‑ not with those who provide relief from suffering, not even enough to care whether they are able to survive. When no actual suffering can be found, the altruists are compelled to invent or manufacture it.

["Moral Inflation," ARL, 111, 13, 2]

America's inner contradiction was the altruist ‑ collectivist ethics. Altruism is incompatible with freedom, with capitalism and with individual rights. One cannot combine the pursuit of happiness with the moral status of a sacrificial animal.

["Man's Rights," VOS, 127; pb 95.]

The question that should be forming in your head about now is: what is wrong with helping other people? Here is an answer by example:

The proper method of judging when or whether one should help another person is by reference to one's own rational self-interest and one's own hierarchy of values: the time, money or effort one gives or the risk one takes should be proportionate to the value of the person in relation to one's own happiness.

To illustrate this on the altruists' favorite example: the issue of saving a drowning person. If the person to be saved is a stranger, it is morally proper to save him only when the danger to one's own life is minimal; when the danger is great, it would be immoral to attempt it: only a lack of self-esteem could permit one to value one's life higher than that of any random stranger. (And, conversely, if one is drowning, one cannot expect a stranger to risk his life for one's sake, remembering that one's life cannot be as valuable to him as his own.)

If the person to be saved is not a stranger, then the risk one should be willing to take is greater in proportion to the greatness of that person's value to oneself. If it is the man or woman one loves, then one can be willing to give one's own life to save him or her - for the selfish reason that life without the loved person could be unbearable.

["The Ethics of Emergencies," VOS, 50; pb 45.)

Saving a drowning victim by sacrificing one’s life is an extreme example. What about less momentous acts of charity? Here is what Rand has to say:

The small minority of adults who are unable rather than unwilling to work, have to rely on voluntary charity; misfortune is not a claim to slave labor; there is no such thing as the right to consume, control, and destroy those without whom one would be unable to survive.

["What Is Capitalism?" CUI, 26.]

The moral purpose of a man's life is the achievement of his own happiness. This does not mean that he is indifferent to all men, that human life is of no value to him and that he has no reason to help others in an emergency. But it does mean that he does not subordinate his life to the welfare of others, that he does not sacrifice himself to their needs, that the relief of their suffering is not his primary concern, that any help he gives is an exception, not a rule, an act of generosity, not of moral duty, that it is marginal and incidental – just as disasters are marginal and incidental in the course of human existence - and that values, not disasters, are the goal, the first concern and the motive power of his life.

["The Ethics of Emergencies," VOS, 55; pb 49.]

How do objectivist ethics apply to matters of the heart – to friendship, and love?

Love, friendship, respect, admiration are the emotional response of one man to the virtues of another, the spiritual payment given in exchange for the personal, selfish pleasure which one man derives from the virtues of another man's character. Only a brute or an altruist would claim that the appreciation of another person's virtues is an act of selflessness, that as far as one's own selfish interest and pleasure are concerned, it makes no difference whether one deals with a genius or a fool, whether one meets a hero or a thug, whether one marries an ideal woman or a slut. In spiritual issues, a trader is a man who does not seek to be loved for his weaknesses or flaws, only for his virtues, and who does not grant his love to the weaknesses or the flaws of others, only to their virtues.

["The Objectivist Ethics," VOS, 29; pb 31.]

When you are in love, it means that the person you love is of great personal, selfish importance to you and to your life. If you were selfless, it would have to mean that you derive no personal pleasure or happiness from the company and the existence of the person you love, and that you are motivated only by self-sacrificial pity for that person's need of you. I don't have to point out to you that no one would be flattered by, nor would accept, a concept of that kind. Love is not self-sacrifice, but the most profound assertion of your own needs and values. It is for your own happiness that you need the person you love, and that is the greatest compliment, the greatest tribute you can pay to that person.

["Playboy's Interview with Ayn Rand," pamphlet, 7.1]

And finally, what general principle can we use to guide us in living a moral existence?

For centuries, the battle of morality was fought between those who claimed that your life belongs to God and those who claimed that it belongs to your neighbors - between those who preached that the good is self - sacrifice for the sake of ghosts in heaven and those who preached that the good is self - sacrifice for the sake of incompetents on earth.  And no one came to say that your life belongs to you and that the good is to live it.

[GS, FNI, 145; pb 120.]

I started by talking about some events in my own life, and I said they would be relevant. My experiences are not unique, or even important to anyone else. But they provide a snapshot of the coming of age of a young person in America. Every one of you has similar stories to tell. I want you to think back to your coming of age, not mine, and as you remember, reflect on the values you learned, the things which stuck with you through the years, the things which brought you your greatest fulfillment.

We learn what is important, what is virtuous, what is good, through our daily immersion in the culture surrounding us. Yet in every culture, we learn that we have choices to make. We see people who take charge of their lives and better themselves through their own efforts, and we people who remain dependent on others. I’ve long thought that the struggle to better one’s self is the secret to a fulfilling life. It is the triumph of achievement that is the fuel of human progress. When that achievement is ours, when we know that it was our effort, our struggle that created something of value in the world – even if some parasite takes whatever it was we created; nobody can take away our knowledge of our achievement.

This is the virtue of selfishness.

I lost track of Brian and Cheryl within a few years of moving away after college. The last I heard, Cheryl had earned her GED and was taking classes at a community college, and Brian was a campus police officer, but thinking of going to college. I wonder from time to time what path their lives have taken since, but I suppose I’ll never know. I’m betting they’ve made good lives for themselves.

One last thought for you:

The meek may inherit the earth, but it is the doers and creators who have left them something to inherit, and it is they who will die proud.

1/12/03

abbreviations in citations:

ARL  -  The Ayn Rand Letter (1971-1976)
CUI  -  Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal (1966)
FNI  -  For the New Intellectual (1961)
GS  -  Galt’s Speech from Atlas Shrugged (1957)
PWNI  -  Philosophy, Who Needs It (1982)
VOS  -  The Virtue of Selfishness (1964)