The Journals of Ayn Rand (98 page)

(“Division of labor”
must
also be “division of responsibility.”)

As example of the absence of such clear definitions, with awful results: the motion picture industry. In their stated theory, the movies have no such definitions; they merely hold the producer as omniscient and omnipotent. In practice, they are forced to observe definitions, sort of by default, “bootleg” definitions—and only to that extent do they or can they function successfully.

As example of proper definition on a railroad: it is the president’s job to set the general policy of the road; it is the job of each subordinate to carry out
his
part of the work toward the accomplishment of that policy. A freight agent has no business deciding what the railroad as a whole should do; his job, specifically, is to see that freight is handled in the best manner possible. An engineer on a train must understand and accept the conditions of his job, which is to run the engine of a train. It is
not
his job to decide when the train goes, what it carries, what it charges and to whom. His job is only to make it move, on a certain schedule, from a certain point to another certain point.

If he thinks the conditions imposed on him for the operation of the engine are wrong (in strict relation to his job of running it, and only to that), he should not hold the job; he should quit. For instance, if he thinks the rules of stopping, accelerating, watching signals, etc., are wrong—he must not hold this job, because he cannot hold it successfully. If he does not understand the rules and just obeys automatically, he’s no good at the job. If he thinks the rules are wrong, and he is mistaken about it, he still cannot be good at the job by obeying the rules blindly. If he thinks the rules are wrong, and he’s
right
about it—he shouldn’t keep the job, because the result will be disastrous to him and to the company that enforces the wrong rules. (He is, of course, free to make suggestions to his superiors at any time; but if they disagree and he is convinced that he’s right, he should quit.)

How can an average man know whether he’s right or wrong? By never attempting a job where, in the
specific
performance of
his
duties, he has to venture beyond the limit of his own capacity of independent rational judgment, and act without understanding. If he understands a problem, he is sure of whether he’s right or wrong; if he isn’t sure, and can’t arrive at any certainty with the most careful study, he must leave the problem and the job alone.

Within the province of his job, no man should do anything for a reason such as the desire or opinion of another man, or of a number of other men. Certainly not anything that he himself rationally considers wrong. But more than that: if he has no rational grounds for an action, one way or another,
still
he must
not
do it if the only reason is the desire or order of another man.

Dagny’s job (if not by title, then in fact—I must check on that, as far as her official position on TT is concerned) is to run the whole railroad. She accepts the interference of James Taggart and government “regulators” as an unavoidable part of her job, an unavoidable evil. She thinks she can work in spite of that interference, or get around it, or compromise with it, and still make the railroad successful.
That
is her mistake. It can’t be done.

By accepting Taggart’s decisions, which she knows to be wrong, then by helping him to carry out bad ideas well (such as efficiently delivering the “soybean freight,” when it should never have been attempted at all), she only helps him to run the railroad
badly
and thus contradicts and defeats her own purpose, which is to run it well. She postpones the natural consequences of his bad decisions (which would be disastrous) and thus leaves him free and gives him the means to do more damage to the railroad by even worse decisions.

A bad thing done well is more dangerous and disastrous than a bad thing done badly.
An efficient robbery is worse for the victim than an inefficient one. The fool Republicans who help the New Deal to enforce unworkable regulations destroy their own industries—because unworkable regulations inefficiently enforced would give the industries a better chance to function and survive.

This is Dagny’s mistake—based on an imperfect understanding of cooperation with men, of her need of their services in her own aim, and on the difficulty of defining the job of an executive in charge of a huge organization that involves thousands of men. But when she accepts Taggart’s stupidities and tries to make them work (for the sake of the railroad, hoping to get around them or counteract their bad effects), she is doing the equivalent of what I would do if I agreed to put something into a book of mine which I considered bad, but which the publishers, critics or public demanded, and if I justified myself by an argument such as: well, they want it, and after all I have to deal with them, etc. I could not say (like all the damn Republican fools) that I would accomplish my purpose in spite of such compromises: if I consider the outside suggestions
bad,
that means they are bad for my book and its purpose, therefore by accepting them I defeat my purpose. (Yet this is just what all men mixed by “social” considerations are doing nowadays. And this, in a more complex form, is what Dagny does.)

The pattern of the proper cooperation among men goes like this:

First,
the basic premise, without which men cannot deal with one another safely or rationally: that each man lives only for his own sake; therefore, he acts only for his own personal profit, respecting the same right and motive in every other man; therefore, they can act together only if the action is personally profitable to each man involved; and the objective test of that is each man’s own free decision and voluntary consent.

Second,
the objective, general purpose of the organization is understood and accepted by all men involved in it—and it is a “selfish” purpose in the same way as the purpose of each man involved.

Example:
The purpose of every man working on a railroad should be, generally, to do productive work, which is the proper moral purpose of a human being; more specifically, to do the kind of work he likes or has chosen, and to earn his own living through that work (which means, in effect, to produce and keep the product of one’s own work). No man can expect anything from others as a “sacrifice,” i.e., as a one-sided advantage, a consideration of his own desires with no
selfish
compensation for or advantage to the other party. (The objective test? Voluntary mutual consent.) No employee can expect ten dollars a day, because
he
needs it, if his boss can get men willing to do the same work for one dollar. No boss can expect an employee to work for one dollar, if the worker can get ten dollars elsewhere. Any forced freezing, or artificial agreements, or the mere confusion of this principle (“no sacrifice of anyone to anyone”), will
not
work. It only leads to hatred, injustice, disaster, and destruction.

The relation of a railroad as a whole to the other industries of the country, to its customers and to the whole nation, is the same as that of each man working on it to each other man; here the railroad may be considered as a unit among other units. The purpose of a railroad is to produce a certain commodity (transportation) and to keep the product of its work (profit). Its purpose is not to “serve the nation” nor to “serve its shippers.” You do not run a railroad just because sharecroppers need train rides; their need is none of your concern—unless they can pay their fare, i.e., give you something of value in exchange for what you give to them.

And it is not the purpose of the nation or of the shippers to serve the railroad. Men deal with the railroad only when their mutual interests agree and the exchange is to mutual
selfish
advantage. The objective test? The voluntary consent of both parties involved—the railroad and the shippers. But if the railroad is considered and run as a “service” (i.e., service to others being its primary purpose, and profits being ignored), then there is nothing but greed, exploitation, inefficiency, failure, and destruction ahead.

This is so by definition: if a railroad is to be run without regard for
profit,
this means without regard for cost or efficiency; if it serves some project for subnormal charity objects and this service does not pay its cost, someone has to pay for it. The railroad then consumes more than it produces. When all production and all industries are run on such a principle—there is soon nothing left to consume.

Yet the above is precisely what James Taggart tries to do—both in relation to the purpose and policy of TT as a whole (“public service”), and in relation to the duties of employees within the organization (“the strong must serve the weak,” “the interest of any employee must be sacrificed to the interest of the railroad,” “team-work,” etc.). Instead of the growing prosperity that comes from a principle that makes each man profit by cooperating with others, Taggart creates misery and growing poverty by a principle that demands, within, the sacrifice of each man to the organization, and, without, the sacrifice of the organization to other organizations (or collectives, or “the nation”). This is blatantly evident in one simple statement: One system is based on the principle of
profit,
the other—on the principle of
sacrifice;
therefore, one
will
achieve general prosperity, the other—general misery.

This is what Dagny deals with and accepts (if not explicitly, at least implicitly). This is what she hopes to work with and around.
That
is her mistake and her failure. It can’t be done.

Here, also, is the difference between Dagny and Roark: Roark had no concern for others, and kept them out of his work (and when they did interfere, he took action against them); Dagny has no concern for others and lets them interfere in her work, accepting the interference. The
proper
concern for others is self-protection-the protection of one’s own principles and inalienable rights, and above all, the protection of oneself against being anybody’s “servant,” the keeping of one’s moral principle of living for one’s own sake.

Regarding Dagny’s determination to function as a creator at all costs: Dagny doesn’t understand the difference between the relation of the creator to
nature
and to people. In relation to
nature,
the creator
must
function to shape the world to his wishes—against every obstacle. In relation to
people,
he
must not
allow them (and their rules, stupidity, or force) to come between him and nature—because then he destroys his first function, he makes it impossible, so that he can no longer master nature, but becomes helpless before it, like the parasites.

A creator must function at all costs—but
not
at the cost of his own principles, not at the cost of his independence, because then he makes it impossible for himself to function; he destroys his base and premise.