Regardless of whether or not you sympathize with him, is Galt’s position so utterly important that it justifies the mass starvation and destitution of the entire country? In my opinion, Galt had a good point to make. But that doesn’t justify letting the entire world burn around you just to make your point.
For something as often painfully didactic as Atlas Shrugged is, it’s absolutely amazing how people can manage to not get its point.
The point of the book is that the country (and the world) is doomed to mass starvation and destitution by its philosophy as enacted in its policies, no matter how hard people worked to save it. By analogy, a hard-drinking alcoholic is going to be destroyed by his alcoholism, no matter how desperately his wife and friends try to help him.
When the leaders of the country ask the captured John Galt how to fix things, he tells them how: they have to end their policies. They instead demand different answers, just like an alcoholic who refuses to listen to the advice to stop drinking. But, according to Ayn Rand, no different answers exist. They are demanding the impossible, and John Galt refuses to comfort them with lies.
Dagny Taggart and Hank Rearden, on the other hand, spend the book enabling the people in power. Oh, sure, they tell the leadership that the policies will cause disaster; but with every drop of sweat they expend they save the leaders from realizing the consequences of their actions. Just as with the wife who enables an alcoholic husband, Dagny thinks she is helping, but what she’s really doing is masking the consequences of the problem, allowing the problem to become bigger and worse. And that is why, for example, Hank is the “guiltiest man in this room”; he is what makes it possible for the country to believe its course isn’t doomed.
The country, like an addict, won’t change until it has hit bottom. Delaying it from hitting bottom isn’t helping; it just means more will be destroyed on the way down. On the other hand, if the best brains are withdrawn, not only will it hit the bottom and admit it needs help sooner, but the best brains will not have been destroyed in the process, and thus be in a better position to put the country on its feet.
Now, you can of course take issue with the world Ayn Rand created, and its applicability to the real world. But given the world Ayn Rand created, if John Galt were concerned only with the greatest welfare for the greatest number, if his effort was entirely to maximize collective utility, his actions would differ in no respect from what he did.
given the world Ayn Rand created, if John Galt were concerned only with the greatest welfare for the greatest number, if his effort was entirely to maximize collective utility, his actions would differ in no respect from what he did.
That’s true, but it’s a privilege of being a fiction author—you can create a world where your personal philosophy happens to maximize what your readers care about. This does not mean the same thing happens in the real world too. The lesson can be useful if the same situation happens in the real world, but we should take care to consider whether that is really the case.
That’s true, but it’s a privilege of being a fiction author
Oh, certainly. But if it doesn’t conform with reality, that’s a defect of the author; no blame should attach to the character. I grant it’s a somewhat odd point, to defend the honor of a fictional character, but . . .
. . . I think it flicked me in particular because I find a persistent pattern of people critiquing Atlas Shrugged in particular for things that aren’t actually in the book. Most often people say that it claims all businessmen are good (James Taggart is a businessman and a major villain), or that being smart and virtue are the same thing (Dr. Robert Stadler is a genius and a villain), or whatnot.
Picking apart Rand’s work is one thing; I’ve done it myself fairly often. But I like to see it done right.
For something as often painfully didactic as Atlas Shrugged is, it’s absolutely amazing how people can manage to not get its point.
The point of the book is that the country (and the world) is doomed to mass starvation and destitution by its philosophy as enacted in its policies, no matter how hard people worked to save it. By analogy, a hard-drinking alcoholic is going to be destroyed by his alcoholism, no matter how desperately his wife and friends try to help him.
When the leaders of the country ask the captured John Galt how to fix things, he tells them how: they have to end their policies. They instead demand different answers, just like an alcoholic who refuses to listen to the advice to stop drinking. But, according to Ayn Rand, no different answers exist. They are demanding the impossible, and John Galt refuses to comfort them with lies.
Dagny Taggart and Hank Rearden, on the other hand, spend the book enabling the people in power. Oh, sure, they tell the leadership that the policies will cause disaster; but with every drop of sweat they expend they save the leaders from realizing the consequences of their actions. Just as with the wife who enables an alcoholic husband, Dagny thinks she is helping, but what she’s really doing is masking the consequences of the problem, allowing the problem to become bigger and worse. And that is why, for example, Hank is the “guiltiest man in this room”; he is what makes it possible for the country to believe its course isn’t doomed.
The country, like an addict, won’t change until it has hit bottom. Delaying it from hitting bottom isn’t helping; it just means more will be destroyed on the way down. On the other hand, if the best brains are withdrawn, not only will it hit the bottom and admit it needs help sooner, but the best brains will not have been destroyed in the process, and thus be in a better position to put the country on its feet.
Now, you can of course take issue with the world Ayn Rand created, and its applicability to the real world. But given the world Ayn Rand created, if John Galt were concerned only with the greatest welfare for the greatest number, if his effort was entirely to maximize collective utility, his actions would differ in no respect from what he did.
First, thanks for the great comment!
That’s true, but it’s a privilege of being a fiction author—you can create a world where your personal philosophy happens to maximize what your readers care about. This does not mean the same thing happens in the real world too. The lesson can be useful if the same situation happens in the real world, but we should take care to consider whether that is really the case.
Oh, certainly. But if it doesn’t conform with reality, that’s a defect of the author; no blame should attach to the character. I grant it’s a somewhat odd point, to defend the honor of a fictional character, but . . .
. . . I think it flicked me in particular because I find a persistent pattern of people critiquing Atlas Shrugged in particular for things that aren’t actually in the book. Most often people say that it claims all businessmen are good (James Taggart is a businessman and a major villain), or that being smart and virtue are the same thing (Dr. Robert Stadler is a genius and a villain), or whatnot.
Picking apart Rand’s work is one thing; I’ve done it myself fairly often. But I like to see it done right.