Update 11/28 : A reader made several relevant points.
1. It’s a dangerous game whenever one starts making inferences from unpublished notes. Clear communication of ideas is incredibly difficult even when one is putting in the effort to make something publishable and generally accessible. In private notes, one’s only audience is oneself — as such, one may write in a shorthand manner which may have a very different meaning when read by somebody else.
2. These quotations were selected by the author for being the most damning that could be found, and are pretty ambiguous (as I pointed out in the discussion below). They’re especially ambiguous in light of point one.
3. I failed to challenge sufficiently the framing of the author’s discussion — this whole frame of whether or not Rand discarded the “Nietzscheanism’” of her youth actually reveals some biases and false assumptions of the author.
Arguably (and this is my analysis now, building off the reader’s comment), the point of contention is *whether* Rand’s philosophy is a faux, watery Nietzscheanism (the mask allegedly slipping off in the quotes discussed below) or something altogether different which was created by someone who happened to have a passing interest in Nietzsche. By not challenging the author’s framing, I conceded too much.
Thanks reader!
Original article follows:
This article was brought to my attention…
In her journal circa 1928 Rand quoted the statement, “What is good for me is right,” a credo attributed to a prominent figure of the day, William Edward Hickman. Her response was enthusiastic. “The best and strongest expression of a real man’s psychology I have heard,” she exulted.
At the time, she was planning a novel that was to be titled The Little Street, the projected hero of which was named Danny Renahan. According to Rand scholar Chris Matthew Sciabarra, she deliberately modeled Renahan – intended to be her first sketch of her ideal man – after this same William Edward Hickman. Renahan, she enthuses in another journal entry, “is born with a wonderful, free, light consciousness — [resulting from] the absolute lack of social instinct or herd feeling. He does not understand, because he has no organ for understanding, the necessity, meaning, or importance of other people … Other people do not exist for him and he does not understand why they should.” (Journals, pp. 27, 21-22; emphasis hers.)
“A wonderful, free, light consciousness” born of the utter absence of any understanding of “the necessity, meaning, or importance of other people.” Obviously, Ayn Rand was most favorably impressed with Mr. Hickman. He was, at least at that stage of Rand’s life, her kind of man.
So the question is, who exactly was he?
William Edward Hickman was one of the most famous men in America in 1928. But he came by his fame in a way that perhaps should have given pause to Ayn Rand before she decided that he was a “real man” worthy of enshrinement in her pantheon of fictional heroes.
You see, Hickman was a forger, an armed robber, a child kidnapper, and a multiple murderer.
Apparently Rand wrote various positive thing about this guy (see the article for more).
My first reaction was, so what? Rand thought silly things when she was in her Nietzschean phase. She hardly was the first person to wrongfully admire a heinous criminal at some point in their lives (see, e.g., the fascination many people have had with Che Guevara)
The author, to his credit, tries to address this:
No doubt defenders of Ayn Rand, and there are still a few left, would reply that the journal entry in question was written when she was only in her early twenties and still under the spell of Nietzsche, that as her thinking developed she discarded such Nietzschean elements and evolved a more rational outlook, and that the mature Rand should not be judged by the mistakes of her youth. And this might be a perfectly reasonable position to take. Unquestionably Rand’s outlook did change, and her point of view did become at least somewhat less hostile to what the average, normal person would regard as healthy values.
But before we assume that her admiration of Mr. Hickman was merely a quirk of her salad days, let’s consider a few other quotes from Ayn Rand cited in Scott Ryan’s book.
In her early notes for The Fountainhead: “One puts oneself above all and crushes everything in one’s way to get the best for oneself. Fine!” (Journals, p. 78.)
This could just be referring to obstacles, not other humans. “Above all” and “everyTHING” in one’s way don’t point towards a terribly damning conclusion.
Of The Fountainhead’s hero, Howard Roark: He “has learned long ago, with his first consciousness, two things which dominate his entire attitude toward life: his own superiority and the utter worthlessness of the world.” (Journals, p. 93.)
This admittedly sounds bad. The world isn’t worthless, and if Rand thought it was, she was wrong.
In the original version of her first novel We the Living: “What are your masses [of humanity] but mud to be ground underfoot, fuel to be burned for those who deserve it?” (This declaration is made by the heroine Kira, Rand’s stand-in; it is quoted in The Ideas of Ayn Rand by Ronald Merrill, pp. 38 – 39; the passage was altered when the book was reissued years after its original publication.)
I’m not sure who Kira is addressing in this early edition quote, but it sounds like the context could be sarcastic (if she is addressing one of the Communists, say). Rand was against sacrifice, and this sounds like a pretty sacrificial idea.
On the value of human life: Man “is man only so long as he functions in accordance with the nature of a rational being. When he chooses to function otherwise, he is no longer man. There is no proper name for the thing which he then becomes … When a man chooses to act in a sub-human manner, it is no longer proper for him to survive nor to be happy.” (Journals, pp. 253-254, 288.)
Rand is saying that our essential capacity is our capacity to think. If we give up that capacity, and lower ourselves to the level of animals, we won’t survive … I suppose the author of the article thinks that Rand is arguing it would thus be ok for a Randian Hero to come and extirpate such a sub-rational life, but I don’t think the text supports the reading.
In Atlas Shrugged, Dagny takes an interest in her brother’s wife, Cherryl, who Dagny can tell is good, but not quite good enough to be strong against the cruel people in the world. She asks her to stay at her apartment one night after Cherryl comes over in the midst of a moral crisis; but Cherryl returns to Dagny’s brother, and winds up killing herself later out of despair.
That, I think, is what Rand is getting at — if you aren’t rational and awake in life, then either your own hand or some cruel evil person or the universe will get to you; the Randian hero the author imagines to be so malevolent and antisocial might actually try and help you out, but they can’t save you from yourself.
As proof that her Nietzschean thinking persisted long after her admirers think she abandoned it, this journal entry from 1945, two years subsequent to the publication of The Fountainhead: “Perhaps we really are in the process of evolving from apes to Supermen — and the rational faculty is the dominant characteristic of the better species, the Superman.” (Journals, p. 285.)
I would argue that Rand’s interpretation of this statement is true: since she is defining what is evolving as our rational faculty, then of course we’re going to become better at reasoning as we go along and figure things out. Again, where’s the connection between this and the naive Nietzscheanism displayed in the Wild Bill Hickman discussion?