Reconstruction 7.2 (2007)
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Nature in Ayn Rand's Fountainhead / Anand Silodia
<1> Half a century ago the novelist Ayn Rand [1], a Russian refugee who settled in America, gave us one of the most original and influential philosophies of individualism namely objectivism , which she advanced as 'a philosophy for living on earth.' First propounded through her novels The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand's philosophy of objectivism has surpassed the test of time. In her objectivist philosophy, human-nature relationships are an important (indirect) concern although rarely discussed in an explicit manner in her humongous novels.
<2> It is this connection between objectivism and nature in Ayn Rand's writings and the Fountainhead in particular that I am outlining in this article. The best definition of objectivism is perhaps the one given by Rand herself: "my philosophy, in essence, is the concept of man as a heroic being, with his own happiness as the moral purpose of his life, with productive achievement as his noblest activity, and reason as his only absolute" (Atlas Shrugged, 1074) [2]. It is not incidental that Ayn Rand's novels typify the American Dream while extolling its modernist culture. In the character of its central figure, the architect Howard Roark, Rand outlined for the first time the kind of hero whose depiction became a central theme of her writing: the ideal man, man as he could be and ought to be. True to this ideal, the Randian heroes are rational and creative people engaged incessantly in the process of creative production. Rooted firmly in a vision of the heroic man, her novels encourage all human beings to become heroes.
<3> The conquest of nature is an important component of becoming a hero and a recurring theme in Rand's novels. She explicitly states, "matter has no value except as a means for the satisfaction of human desires. Matter is only a tool of human values" (Atlas Shrugged, 942). The strong statement given below emerges from the architect Howard Roark, heroic figure of The Fountainhead.
"Nothing is given to man on earth. Everything he needs has to be produced. And here man faces his basic alternative: he can survive in only one of two ways - by the independent work of his own mind or as a parasite fed by the minds of others. The creator originates. The parasite borrows. The creator faces nature alone. The parasite faces nature through an intermediary."
"The creator's concern is the conquest of nature. The parasite's concern is the conquest of men."
"The creator lives for his work. He needs no other men..."
"The basic need of a creator is independence. The reasoning mind cannot work under any form of compulsion..." (711-12).
Here, we see nature as an adversary: to be fought with for survival; to be conquered for creation. It is this creativity that causes the progress of the human civilization. Here, we clearly see the marks of the nature/culture dualism prevalent in western thought. Nature must be tamed and exploited for the advancement of culture.
<4> Let us examine this last statement more carefully. If we accept that the advancement of culture is dependent on nature, then there are two ways of looking at this causal dependence. Either one harvests nature for promoting creativity and survival or one conquers it for the same purpose. The idea of harvest is usually associated with tribal and agriculturally dependent societies, while the idea of conquest predominates industrial societies. The idea of harvest is based on the assumption that nature is the source of energy, which should be transformed by man into useful forms, while the idea of conquest is associated with the idea of man as the source of dynamic energy and nature as passive raw material; 'you have to respect nature when you harvest it, while you are proud of yourself when you conquer it.'
<5> In complete opposition to feminism and any sensitivity towards nature, Rand goes further in a symbolic and controversial sequence depicting the rape of the heroine Dominique Francon in The Fountainhead. In this novel, the journalist Dominique is potrayed as a creative, independent mind, but also a cynic. She is contemptuous of the world, which she sees as increasingly being swallowed by mediocrity. She is also sexually frigid. Her contempt and cynicism leave her indifferent to the advances of men. Howard Roark rapes her and in the process breaks through her frigidity. She rediscovers her sexuality.
<6> Let's have a look at the description of this rape:
She fought like an animal. But she made no sound. She did not call for help. She heard the echoes of her blows in a gasp of his breath, and she knew that it was a gasp of pleasure. She reached for the lamp on the dressing table. He knocked the lamp out of her hand. The crystal burst to pieces in the darkness. He had thrown her down on the bed and she felt the blood beating in her throat, in her eyes, the hatred, the helpless terror in her blood. She felt the hatred and his hands; his hands moving over her body, the hands that broke granite. She fought in a last convulsion. Then the sudden pain shot up, through her body, to her throat, and she screamed. Then she lay still.
It was an act that could be performed in tenderness, as a seal of love, or in contempt, as a symbol of humiliation and conquest. It could be the act of a lover or the act of a soldier violating an enemy woman. He did it as an act of scorn. Not as love, but as defilement. And this made her lie still and submit. One gesture of tenderness from him - and she would have remained cold, untouched by the thing done to her body. But the act of a master taking shameful, contemptuous possession of her was the kind of rapture she had wanted (The Fountainhead, 220).
<7> In the above extract, Dominique's rape is a battle wherein there must be a vanquisher and a vanquished. It is the rapist that charges Dominique's frigid body with aggressive vitality, which gets transformed into sexual vitality and ultimately pleasure: the pleasure of being vanquished. The rape has accorded value to a woman's sexuality and not violated her being. Interpreting this rape-sequence as a metaphorical representation of the conquest of nature is justifiable in an objectivist perspective where nature exists as a passive 'frigid' entity while men are the source of all dynamic creative energy. Man exploits nature for his own selfish ends, and in doing so breaks through the frigidity of nature, and impregnates it with his creative energy; transforming it into something more valuable. Moreover, just as a person's sexual potential is wasted without a desirable partner, nature's potential is wasted without its proper exploitation. Hence, from an objectivist point of view, the fullest and most efficient exploitation of nature is the only proper way of dealing with it, as nature has no intrinsic value and is accorded value only after being exploited by human beings.
<6> Let's analyse another instance from the Roarkian prism:
"Look, Gail." Roark got up, reached out, tore a thick branch off a tree, held it in both hands, one fist closed at each end; then, his wrists and knuckles tensed against the resistance, he bent the branch slowly into an arc. "Now I can make what I want of it: a bow, a spear, a cane, a railing. That's the meaning of life."
"Your strength?"
"Your work" He tossed the branch aside. "The material the earth offers you and what you make of it..." (The Fountainhead, 577).
At first reading, the above dialogue communicates nothing new. But taking a closer look one understands the significance of this conversation. It is the first and only confession of man's complete and utter dependence on nature in Ayn Rand's writings. Reaching one's highest creative potential may be the goal of one's life, but it cannot be fulfilled without the presence of nature; nature is the catalyst and the surface of one's creativity. If one's life has meaning only in terms of one's work, then what meaning will it have if one has nothing to work with? What if the earth offered no material? What value would one's life have then? Can one exploit one's creative potential in a vacuum? So far I have explained Rand's assertions on nature in that it has no intrinsic value, and any value is accorded to it with human creativity. But if creativity is the measure of the value of human existence, and if no creativity is possible without nature, then doesn't this imply that it is nature that accords value to human beings by allowing humans to be creative? And if that is the case, then doesn't this mean that nature has an intrinsic value? Is Ayn Rand's design of living and her attitude towards nature appropriate?
<7> I will like to conclude this article by confessing why I wrote this article in the first place. I am a postgraduate engineering student at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) Delhi, India, which is ranked among the premier science and engineering institutes of the world. Here engineering students have to compulsorily take a few courses in the Humanities and Social Sciences. In January 2007, I enrolled myself in a postgraduate course on Environmental Ethics where we extensively discussed human-nature relations from a sociological and an ethics perspective. Within the competitive environment of IIT Delhi, The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged enjoy near cult status, and this is true of nearly all the other IITs in India. Nearly one in every five students (true of men) owns and/or has read at least one of Ayn Rand's novels at IIT Delhi. The reasons for such an affinity are not very hard to understand. The heroes of Rand's novel's are rationalists and, as in Atlas Shrugged , engineers themselves, who are portrayed as prime movers of civilization and culture. Her novels give us engineers a confidence in the righteousness of our professions and justify our rationalist approach towards life and human relations. Her novels laud capitalism and individual creative achievements that are perfectly in resonance with the culture of excellence espoused by the IITs. Furthermore, these novels instil courage in us to follow our convictions no matter what other people say or think about us. This is best evoked in the attitude that I don't give a damn!
<8> While I admire and practice objectivism to a certain extent, it does contain corollaries and tenets that I disagree with. I do not subscribe to the view that nature is merely a reservoir of raw material for our creative use. I retain a deep respect and revel in the power of the earth's regenerative capacities. Its capabilities for self-sustenance and ecological balance in the longue durée rival any complex system ever built by a human engineer. I am tempted to accept Rand's objectivist doctrine and thereby absolve myself of any responsibility towards nature, but it is a temptation that I have to resist and continually overcome. If everybody exploits and no-one takes responsibility for our supposedly inexhaustible earth, then ultimately everyone loses. There will be no winners or losers, the dominated or the subjugated, the active or the passive left on this earth as we move towards a void of non-existence.
References
Rand, Ayn. The Fountainhead. New York, Plume Books, 1994.
Rand, Ayn. Atlas Shrugged. Delhi, Signet Books, 1996.
Notes
[1] Born in Russia at the fin du siècle, Ayn Rand witnessed both the Kerensky Revolution, which she supported, and the Bolshevik Revolution (1917), which she denounced from the outset. When introduced to American history in her last year of high school, she immediately looked towards America as her model of what a nation of free men could be and become. She studied philosophy and history at the University of Petrograd. Graduating in 1924, she experienced the disintegration of free inquiry and the takeover of the university by communist thugs. In late 1925 she obtained permission to leave Soviet Russia for a visit to relatives in the United States. Although she told Soviet authorities that her visit would be short, she was determined never to return to Russia. Her first novel, We the Living, which was completed in 1934 was rejected by numerous publishers until The Macmillan Company in the United States and Cassells and Company in England published it in 1936. [^]
[2] Ayn Rand began writing The Fountainhead in 1935. After being rejected by twelve publishers, The Fountainhead was finally accepted by the Bobbs-Merrill Company. When published in 1943, it made history by becoming a bestseller two years later, and gained for its author lasting recognition as the champion of individualism. For details refer to The Ayn Rand Website. [^]
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