The Journals of Ayn Rand (53 page)

In ethics, when we ask the question: Practical for whom? Good for whom? we must give a reason for the answer. Good for the collective?
Why?
No reason can be given. Good for the individual?
Why?
Here there is a reason and an unanswerable one: because such is man’s nature.

Account for the fact that man is not “a social animal.” Explain the facts [regarding] human affection and loneliness.

Men have always thought—for some reason (think this out)—that morality must be difficult. The morality of egoism is much—oh, much!—more difficult than that of altruism (if difficulty is any relevant criterion at all).
But it works.

Altruism works like every cheap [fraud]—by blaming the victim. As a spiritualistic medium tells you that your “vibrations are wrong” if you see nothing in his demonstrations, altruism tells you that it’s you who’re evil if you end up in a sea of blood by following consistently the dogma of altruism.

Even though men have been commanded to love their neighbors—they feel no love when facing a neighbor; they feel only an immediate sense of guilt: “I should love this man, but I don’t. I’m no good.” An emotion cannot be achieved by command—only by
rational conviction.
The acceptance of arbitrary authority is so counter-rational and, therefore, so counter to human nature that men cannot force themselves to make it a conviction. Even though Christ commanded men to love their neighbors and men have accepted the idea that Christ is God-like and, therefore, right—they still cannot experience an emotion on the basis of: “I don’t know any reason for it, but Christ told me so, therefore it must be right.”

Emotion can come only from actual rational conviction.

If men say that their emotions are a chaotic, contradictory mess—well, look at their convictions. They have none—or, to be exact, they have a grab-bag of undigested, unapplied, contradictory generalities, acquired at random, without volition, choice or examination. The state of their emotions is the result. A mess can produce only a mess. If you treat your mind like a garbage can, a recipient for any chance refuse, then your emotions will be garbage—useless, disconnected hunks of a little bit of everything, leading to nothing but decomposition, rot, suffering. Mental activity is the production and emotions are the consumption of your spirit; you have nothing but garbage to consume when you have produced nothing but garbage.

 

 

The moral man is not necessarily the most intelligent, but the one who independently exercises such intelligence as he has. He is not the man who has, potentially, the greatest brain power (if this can even be measured or determined), but the one who exercises his own brain power independently. Thus, a college professor who makes the intellectual error of collectivism or second-handedness somewhere in his thinking turns out in his theory and practice to be a vicious man (same with criminals, dictators, social reformers). But a plain man concerned only with his own life and his own job, not venturing beyond the limits of his own intellectual capacity, is usually a moral man in every sense. Therefore, the moral faculty is
not
something independent of the rational faculty, but directly connected with it
and proceeding from it. The moral faculty, however, is not dependent upon the amount of intelligence, but upon the proper exercise of intelligence-its
exercise according to the rules its nature demands,
independently.
In other words, the intelligent man is the moral man if he acts as an intelligent man, i.e., in accordance with the nature of his rational faculty. (He has the choice not to act in accordance with his rational faculty. That is why ethical laws are necessary. The laws of any function are implicit in the function. But man must discover and formulate them.)

My greatest personal mistake is ever to allow a word or a moment that “doesn’t count,” i.e., that I do not refer to my own basic principles.
Every word, every action, every moment counts.

(This is also the pattern on which everybody makes mistakes [or] becomes irrational—not relating their one action or one conviction to another.)

Why must man’s morality be that of individualism and egoism?
Because otherwise the best is sacrificed to the worst. If we establish the virtues which a rational man needs in order to survive, and then say that the goal of his virtuous action must be service to those who do not have such virtues—we place virtues in the service of vice, we penalize virtue and give a reward to vice (or weakness). [In regard] to survival, the altruist formula would read:
the man capable of survival must not make his own survival his goal, but the survival of the man incapable of survival. ([Note added later:
] If he works for his own survival, he is vicious. He can justify it only by helping the unfit. If he doesn’t do so, he had no right to survive.)

If we refer to happiness or the enjoyment of life, the altruist formula would be: the man capable of achieving enjoyment or the means of enjoyment must not make his own enjoyment the goal—but the enjoyment of the man incapable of achieving it.

If we formulate a moral code, the man who lives up to its every provision is the perfect, ideal moral man. If then we formulate our ideal man and make him a servant of others—it comes to sacrificing or subordinating the perfect to the imperfect, the ideal to the corrupt.

If the ideal moral man is the mark at which we must aim—how can we wish to reach the ideal if, when we reach it, our life shall be sacrificed to our moral inferiors?

(Here the question of natural endowments enters—to be defined and covered.)

A moral code must be the code of man at his best—at his best in every way, including natural endowments, since these are desirable. A moral code is the code of establishing
values.
Desire (or purpose) establishes
values.

Suppose we imagine a man with all the perfect natural attributes: intelligence, strength, talent, health, beauty—every conceivable natural qualification. He is then a perfect entity, an entity perfectly fitted for life. But how will he live? Life is action. He must decide on his own action, set his own purpose. His choice must be guided by the moral law—he must also be morally perfect. (Here again I need a definition of
why
man needs a moral law. Moral law is a code of good and evil. Whose good and evil? Man’s. What man? The most perfect man conceivable.)

Now if it is asked: but what about the imperfect man, since most of us are imperfect? We can act only on the basis of our
degree
of perfection, trying to approach perfection; we cannot live on the basis of our flaws. For instance, if we are sick, we must try to get well—we cannot base our life on being sick. If a man is incurable, e.g., blind, he cannot expect the healthy to live by the rules set for his blindness.

[Man‘s] actions and his observance of the moral law are up to him. The purpose of life is happiness—and if we adopt the morality of altruism, then the man most fitted for life has the least right to it (or to its enjoyment, to happiness). The more endowed he is, the less right he has to his own enjoyment. And the less endowed the moron is, the more right he has to enjoy himself and to demand the sacrifice of everyone else. This is the irrational paradox of altruism—and it is vicious, since it is irrational and unnatural. This is the process by which qualities (virtues) desirable in fact become undesirable in morality (and also desirable natural attributes are made undesirable). This is why virtue becomes impractical. Altruism is the morality of death and destruction (and it leads to death and destruction in practice) because it holds as desirable the opposite of the qualities needed for man’s survival, the qualities of
life.

The ideal is composed of all the attributes which we consider desirable. Why, then, should the final goal and purpose of the desirable be the undesirable? Why should a genius serve the happiness of the moron? Why—as an example—should a beautiful woman give up her evening gown to an ugly one?

Here enters the differentiation between
ideal
and moral ideal. The moral code must be the code that is needed by and is fair to the best possible type of man born naturally: the most intelligent, the ablest, the healthiest, the most beautiful. The average, lesser man cannot be sacrificed to this code; the better man doesn’t need his sacrifice. But more than that, the lesser man also can live only by such a code—to the degree of his abilities—and his rewards will be commensurate with this. But if it is said: “What about the man who cannot live by such a code at all?” The answer is: “Then he cannot live at all—because this is the only code by which man can survive.” No man must survive at the expense of another man.

(One of the roots of altruism is [a man‘s] fear of his inferior natural ability.)

 

 

Man is afraid to consider himself and his happiness the final end—because to achieve happiness is a great effort, a great responsibility, and most men are incapable of it. Or, achieving what they think is their happiness (some form of second-handedness) they
feel
it’s low and shoddy—and long for something “higher.” In effect, what they feel is: “Is that all? That’s not worth living for. Something must be worth living for—and it’s not in me, since my best happiness is so low and unsatisfying.” This is the pattern of their “instinct” for “something high and noble.”