On "Being One's Self": a Review of James Valliant's "The Passion of Ayn Rand's Critics"

"The discovery of actual evil in a specific person is a painful experience in a moral person." (The Voice of Reason, "The Psychology of Psychologizing," p. 25)

(Books are abbreviated as follows: The Passion of Ayn Rand--PAR; Judgment Day--JD; My Years with Ayn Rand—MYWAR; The Passion of Ayn Rand's Critics--PARC.)

I've been a student of Objectivism for nearly 4 years now, and I've only recently dove into the issues surrounding Rand's personal life and her affair with Nathaniel Branden. Almost since I learned that there was such a philosophy, I stumbled upon personal attack after personal attack on the internet in regards to Ayn Rand's character, the events of her life, and her faked adherence to her own philosophy in light of her life-choices. Without an intimate knowledge of her history, such as provided by a biography, I couldn't make any judgments regarding them, effectively giving Rand the moral benefit of the doubt. I thought that I should work to understand the philosophy first: the issues under dispute were charges of immorality, and I had little understanding of Objectivism's view on morality. Nonetheless, the issues kept rearing up their heads over these years: Rand the repressor? Rand the intolerant authoritarian? Rand the moralizer? Rand the self-centered narcissist, oblivious to the personal context and needs of others, including her friends? Frank O' Connor, the alcoholic whose marriage with Rand was largely a fraud? (Among many other issues, to be discussed in the foregoing.) Was any of it true?

I finally decided to find out, and I found the prime sources for the majority of these criticisms to be none other than Nathaniel and Barbara Branden, two of Rand's former associates, friends, and key members of the early Objectivist movement. Upon discovering this a few years ago, earlier this year I purchased Barbara Branden's The Passion of Ayn Rand and James Valliant's The Passion of Ayn Rand's Critics. (I was planning on buying Nathaniel Branden's memoir Judgment Day, and his revised My Years with Ayn Rand, but the internet is choke-full of quotes from those works, along with interviews of N. Branden which correspond to my understanding of his account of Rand and Objectivism.)

Finishing the books left me with feelings of anger and sadness I've rarely felt. My anger was reserved for the Brandens; my sadness was for Ayn Rand.

The Brandens would meet Rand and Frank O' Connor in 1950, both couples becoming mutually impressed with each other, personally and intellectually. As they learned about the mind and the philosophy of this woman that they admired, they simultaneously began to suppress their true selves, in order to fit something that Rand would better accept and support. They became the greatest of friends, helping Rand in the process of finishing Atlas Shrugged, and becoming part of the reason why Rand pursued non-fiction writing outside of her novels, forming the Nathaniel Branden Institute (NBI) as a result. It would even lead to a romantic affair between Nathaniel Branden and Rand that was agreed upon by everyone involved, Frank and Barbara included. But they weren't being true to themselves, or to Rand and Frank and to other students of Objectivism; they tried to live a life of lies, to fake and wipe out reality—instead, reality wiped out the wipers, destroying the romantic, personal, intellectual, and financial relationships that they worked hard, if dishonestly, to build. What followed was "the Break" of 1968, with Rand's "To Whom It May Concern," outlining her reasons for banishing N. and B. Branden from all aspects of her life, the end of their status as eminent Objectivists, and the end of the NBI. Both of the Brandens responded with their "In Answer to Ayn Rand, Part 1 and 2," basically accusing Rand of lying or distorting the truth in all of her accusations regarding them. This line of argument would continue in both of their biographies/memoirs, published years after Rand's death, presenting her as a highly intelligent and a great, if enormously flawed, woman.

As Valliant shows in PARC, both of the Brandens deceived Rand and other Objectivists since the beginning of their nearly 20 year relationship with her, all the while feigning an advocacy for Objectivism. (I'll note that both of the Brandens partially admit to their explicit dishonesty in their biographies.) By considering the claims of Nathaniel and Barbara Branden in their memoirs/books, and comparing them with other evidence, Valliant seeks to expose the Brandens for the liars that they really were, and still are. Part 1 of PARC presents practically all of the claims made by the Brandens about Rand--those regarding her psychology, her adherence to her own philosophy, and her relationship to the Brandens themselves, and others—and shows them to be either contradictory, fabricated, or insufficiently proven. Part 2 presents a synopsis of Rand's affair with Nathaniel Branden, criticizing both of the Branden biographies and offering Rand's private journal entries which chronicle her romantic relationship with Nathaniel Branden, and its slow disintegration due to psychological sessions he requested her to administer. This part culminates with Rand the detective summarizing her romantic relationship with Nathaniel, unraveling his psychology, and realizing that he's holding some dark, important secret that is the real cause of his (alleged) celibacy-inducing "sex problem" and of his distancing from Rand and the philosophy. (The secret was his 4-year affair with Patrecia Gullison (Scott, and then Branden), meaning that he had no "sex problem" in reality, and that the psychology sessions were designed to distract Rand from learning about all of this.)

In Barbara's PAR, and Nathaniel's JD and MYWAR, they present a definite psychological description of Rand, and like any good rationalist, they use this portrait to deduce all sorts of actions she must have taken, motivations she must have possessed, and the kind of character she must have created within herself. (A rationalist in Objectivist terminology is a person who relies and focuses on abstract reasoning and concepts and stresses deduction, considering conceptual interrelationships, but failing to relate them to concrete reality. The result is a person's whose thinking is "floating," not integrated with facts, and non-objective.) They present her as an alienated person, from the needs and contexts of other people, from the practical aspects of the world, and from physical reality itself. A repressed person who was pained by the negative events in her life, she thus becomes in need of "control," an authoritarian who creates a culture of conformity with her views. This need to dominate explains why she chooses Frank O' Connor, a passive man, and why she demanded complete agreement, especially philosophical agreement, with those whom she befriended. Her snap moral condemnations stifled independent thought and the expression of her students' true selves. She practically made repression a requirement of those around her, and such repression is implicit in her philosophy's view of reason and emotion. And her narcissism was reflected in her inability to accept any "breaks" with Nathaniel Branden romantically for any reason, including their age difference, that this would have to lead to a complete break, personally and professionally.

From this portrait, the Brandens give examples, alleged quotes, and sources detailing Rand's actions and events of her life which fit to this psychological profile. Valliant examines an extensive amount of their claims and evidence, several dozen by my count, and either shows evidence to demonstrate the falsehood of their claim or the lack of evidence needed to reach a decision either way.

To get an idea of what I mean, let's consider some of the things Valliant proves in PARC:

(1) The origin of Rand's American name. Both Nathaniel and Barbara Branden claim that Rand (originally Alice/Alyssa Rosenbaum) changed her name to that of her Remington-Rand typewriter which she brought with her from Russia, with Rand's cousin Fern Brown as Barbara's source. Barbara even claims that Rand never told her family her new name, suggesting a kind of callousness and betrayal of a family who had cared for her enough to help her get out of Russia—fitting perfectly with their portrayal of Rand as manipulative. But these are all lies. As Valliant demonstrates, the Rand Kardex company didn't merge with the Remington company (i.e. the one which manufactured typewriters of the two) until 1927, a year after Rand arrived in America with her typewriter; in fact, Remington-Rand typewriters weren't even made in the 1920's, according to the Remington-Rand company itself. In a letter to a fan, Rand states that her first name is an American version of a Finnish name, and in a New York Evening Post interview she states that her last name is an abbreviation of her Russian surname. (Evidence of this is provided at the ARI site.) In any event, there's no proof that she took her name from a typewriter that didn't even exist at the time she had actually invented the name "Ayn Rand," (sometime around 1925), besides the claims of the Brandens. Furthermore, there are letters from Rand's family in 1926 that explicitly call her "Rand," which were sent before she communicated with them in America, meaning she told them her new name before leaving, contrary to Barbara's claims. A small point, but that the Brandens felt the need to lie about this, and to even suggest that Rand was unfair to her family and left them in the dark about her life in America, is unforgivable and revolting. (PARC, p. 12-14; "How do you pronounce "Ayn?" and "What is the origin of "Rand?"; the "Objectivism Reference Center" speculates that Rand herself may have spread the story of the typewriter, if N. Branden's story is correct. His dishonesty generally, and her accounts of her name being an abbreviation of her Russian name to both the Evening Post and The Saturday Evening Post, however, suggest another instance of Branden simply lying.)

(2) Rand's ignorance of psychology. During his association with Rand, Nathaniel Branden praised Rand for her fictional characters and philosophy, as both provided valuable information about, and the philosophical underpinning towards, a new science of psychology, particularly in the areas of self-esteem, and the relationship between reason and emotion. (See, for instance, Who is Ayn Rand?) In the years after his break, Branden repeatedly claimed that Rand, in fact, had little to no insights into psychology, and that this was a problem as far as practicing Objectivism is concerned. (One of Branden's criticisms of Objectivism, reflective of this ignorance of psychology, is that the philosophy encourages repression and thus is detrimental to psychological health.) This is a gross misrepresentation. According to Branden himself, Rand discussed psychology with him countless times, and they had identified, in some terms, what I view as the Objectivist equivalent of a "philosophy of psychology," discussing the role of the conscious and subconscious mind, the importance of reason, volition, and emotions regarding psychological health, and the need of "psychological visibility" (mutual understanding of one another's self) between romantic partners. (Though this did not apply exclusively to romance, as friends and business partners, to name a couple of examples, would need such visibility as well.) And in her fiction and non-fiction, we're given evidence of Rand's impressive understanding of mental functioning, identifying the nature of rationalization, of evasion, of different kinds of motivations for action, of one's view on sex being an expression of one's highest values, and of acting on one's whims (on emotions that one doesn't understand, and doesn't care to understand), to name a few. (See the Ayn Rand Lexicon entry on "Psychology" in the Conceptual Index.)

But none of this prepares the reader of PARC for the revelation that Branden uses Rand as a psychotherapist for years right up until the end of their relationship (Part 2 of PARC), something that Branden (for decades, on up to the present) never discusses when he is dismissing Rand's understanding of psychology. In fact, her private journal entries reveal her to be very good at psychological analysis, tying together statements and actions of Branden's over the years in order to discover the cause and solution for his admitted "sex problem" and repression (a task that he asked her to undertake under ulterior motives)—instead of a solution finding in Branden bad epistemological standards, a "Kantian"-duty approach to his beliefs in Objectivism which opposed the interests of his "true self," an indifference to the needs and context of the women in his life, and finally, covert dishonesty and breaches of morality.

(3) Rand as authoritarian/Mullah Rand. Another long-standing accusation of the Brandens is that Rand demanded total agreement from those around her. Nathaniel Branden even goes so far as to say that the implicit beliefs of the NBI (which were conveyed to the students) were that a "good Objectivist" is one who admires and condemns exactly what Rand admires and condemns, and that she was the arbiter of what is moral, rational, and appropriate to man's life in reality. By claiming that these beliefs were "implicit," Branden has to mean that no one ever stated this, including Rand. Mary Ann and Charles Sures, Barbara Branden, and Leonard Peikoff (among others) have offered discussions with Rand that show her ability to analyze issues, clarifying the aspects involved. When Rand thought that her friend was mistaken about something, she would draw out the person's thinking, reaching definite conclusions. But no one ever quotes Rand as saying that she demanded that they agree with her reasoning, that her's was the only rational argument. In fact, Peikoff says quite the opposite: "She never suggested that I accept what she said on her say-so; on the contrary, she was working diligently to get me to see the truth with my own eyes and mind..." (The Voice of Reason, p. 335) "Unquestioning agreement is precisely what Ayn Rand did not want," Mary Ann Sures informs us regarding Rand. (Facets of Ayn Rand) As the Brandens themselves admit, they repressed their true values and emotions in order to fit what they, not Rand, thought Objectivism requires, and later blame Rand for it. It's interesting that other close friends of Rand's were not complaining of repressing their true selves to be "good Objectivists" but were learning how the philosophy applies to their contexts.

Peikoff's thirty years with Ayn Rand is an instructive example against the claims of the Brandens. Peikoff's early years with Rand were spent unraveling all of his confusions and bad mental methods, particularly rationalistic thinking. (Peikoff states in one of his podcasts that he had written various essays on the phenomenon of rationalism and ways to combat it.) She didn't want Peikoff's blind obedience, or the agreement of a second-hander, she wanted him to learn the right method of thinking. He didn't distort or repress what he knew: if he had a disagreement or counter-point or confusion, he let Rand know up front, and thus was a paragon of intellectual honesty. When Nathaniel and Barbara Branden had confusions or criticisms of Objectivism, they never told Rand about them, but repressed their ideas and feigned agreement; for years, this meant that every meeting with Rand was filled with role-playing and deception. Rand's psychological counseling notes prove that once she had discovered Branden's self-admitted repression in his sex life, she constantly tried to help him find ways to derepress, to identify and experience his emotions and values, all the while reassuring him that he hasn't betrayed his values. (So much for the Branden charge that Rand and Objectivism encourages repression, as N. Branden alleged (and still does). Of course, unbeknownst to her for years, betraying his values was exactly what he did, at least regarding his professed intellectual values in the presence of Rand and as intellectual heir of Objectivism.)

Other issues raised were Frank O'Connor's (non-existent) alcoholism, Rand's intolerance towards those who disagreed with her, her moralism, her view on intelligence and moral virtue, and her alleged literal attempt to destroy N. Branden after the break. In all these cases and more, we witness the lies, the omissions, and the selective memories of the two individuals closest to Rand besides her husband, the ones who had the most to lose when their personal and professional relationships came to an end.

The most important of all issues confronted was the issue of the affair between Nathaniel Branden and Ayn Rand. The Brandens lie about nearly everything concerning the affair. Frank secretly resenting Rand and N. Branden for initiating it; Nathaniel's claim that it was Rand who wanted the affair and that she kept reinvigorating it; that Rand would instantly break with Nathaniel in all areas if he revealed the "age" issue (the 25-year age gap between them, which Rand knew very well of, offering Nathaniel many “outs” in their affair on that basis alone); Nathaniel's claim that Rand was "obsessed" about him after the break; that their relationship before the break hadn't been nothing but "psycho-therapy"; that Rand would never accept a "Miss X" (another woman in addition to herself and Barbara). Rand's journal entries reveal all of these to be self-serving lies. These entries show a concerned and generous Rand, a Rand understanding of another's context, exactly the kind of person that would be impossible in the Brandens' portrait of her.

In PARC, we learn that near the end of her relationship with Nathaniel, she would learn of the deceptions regarding their romance, their psychology sessions, and even the values of the man himself (and she even got an inkling of the deeper truth concerning Nathaniel's cheating on her with Patrecia). She realized that Nathaniel Branden became "the deadly enemy I had been fighting all of my life: not those who do not see the good, but those who see it and don't want it (because they lack the courage for it, and the self-confidence)." (Valliant, PARC, p. 374, July 12, 1968 entry). To her, Branden was a person who admired her ideas, but who tries his best to pretend that she isn't real, that she isn't a real person that should be dealt with honestly or that she should remain “invisible” (an ignorance of another's self); in this vein, she calls him the real enemy of Atlas Shrugged, "the man who wanted Rearden Metal without Rearden, in the deepest, metaphysical meaning of that concept, much deeper than I could ever have imagined possible." (ibid.) She repeatedly discusses the psychological torture Branden was putting her (and Barbara) through in those years. In light of what their relationship evolved into, and of how Nathaniel Branden portrays things to this day, one can certainly understand Rand's assessment that in regard to him she feels "the strongest contempt I have ever felt—and I regard him as the worst traitor and the most immoral person I have ever met." (PARC, p. 349, July 4th, 1968)

Besides demonstrating the truth about Rand's character and the Affair, PARC also discusses some nuances of Objectivism in its applications to one's life. Learning about terms like "meta-selfishness," "stylized universe," and of two technical meanings of "being oneself" was totally unexpected, and a real treat for me. A "stylized universe" results from the actions of a "stylized person," which Rand describes as a "person who lives in reality according to his highest values, who takes nothing less, accepts no substitutes, and struggles to translate his values into reality, no matter what the difficulties.” Since Objectivism advocates pursuing ones values and furthering one's life as a moral endeavor and as morally right, an obvious extension of that fundamental view would be a principle counseling one to work to live in reality according to one's values. "Meta-selfishness" is an extension of the Objectivist idea of a “hierarchy of values”—of an interrelation of higher, more important values and of lesser values: when you're choosing a particular value, like a car or job or a girlfriend, the actual propriety or prudence of that choice depends on the end-goal of acquiring that value—on what's really in it for you, as Valliant clarifies. Lastly, "being oneself" has two different meanings, depending on the perspective being personal or social. In the social realm, being "oneself" means being "psychologically visible" to someone else, someone who is understood and appreciated for one's character and values; in other words, we allow a person to “be himself” when we understand a person for who and what that person is, and thus he doesn't have to engage in conscious actions to give us evidence of who he really is. In the personal realm, being "oneself" means a person insofar as he relies on the automatized processes of his mind, on his present knowledge subconsciously held, including his sense of life perspective.

Knowing what I know now from PARC, I wouldn't identify their dishonesty as the fundamental cause of their destruction of their relationship with Rand, though it was a significant factor. By their own admission, they were never really Objectivists: within months of meeting Rand, they were suppressing their "true selves," they weren't relying on their subconscious processes, and thus weren't being "themselves" around Rand or Frank, or even among the students of Objectivism they would later teach. They weren't identifying or pursuing their "meta-selfishness," merely parroting the values and views of Rand in order to keep their appearances as good Objectivists. As a result, they didn't have a "stylized universe," they didn't work for their true values, but instead lived with a kind of mind-body split—their professed "Objectivist" values and views experienced in the public, outside world, and their repressed "true selves" and true values which they refused to experience and kept in their own consciousness. Despite Nathaniel being once Rand's intellectual heir, and Barbara having a technical knowledge of the philosophy as well one would presume (18 years spent with Rand, one must remember), the point must be made that they never understood Objectivism in the most important sense—in how it applies to one's own life. Later, they would blame their repression and betrayal of their real values on Rand and on the philosophy, including their dishonesty (which they never reveal to its full extent)--when the real cause always was their erroneous approach to the whole philosophy. And now I can fully understand why that approach led to the events in their lives that it did, thanks to PARC and Rand's journal entries.

All in all, I wish such a book had not been necessary. I wish Barbara Branden hadn't felt the need to "break the presumed link between the validity of Objectivism and the perfection of Ayn Rand," as she says in an essay defending her book from 2005. I wish the Brandens' hadn't felt the need to present Rand's imperfections, if that meant resorting to the kind of dishonesty we're now in the position to appreciate. The facts, however, are the facts. To know the validity of Objectivism, one must consult the works, and judge it for oneself. But to understand that Rand had achieved moral perfection as Objectivism understands it in her own life and person, PARC is certainly without substitute. I whole-heartedly recommend it.

Part 4: Moral Sanction

Introduction

The issues that constitute the Peikoff-Kelley dispute are very difficult to understand, and require a very technical grasp of Objectivism to confront and answer. This applies to moral sanction as any of the other topics. To determine which side represents the Objectivist position here, I'll follow the methodology I used in Part 3: I'll state my interpretation of the genuinely Objectivist position, and then compare and contrast the statements made by Kelley (and those who side with him) and Peikoff (including those who side with him). During the comparisons, I'll also add relevant points about Objectivism that might have been out of place in my succinct summary of the Objectivist position.

My Interpretation of Objectivist Moral Sanction

As I said in my section on moral judgment from Part 3, the Objectivist view of moral judgment consists of two aspects: consciousness and existence, or its intellectual and existential demands. Intellectually, moral judgment is the identification of facts about other people and evaluating the morally salient facts in reference to the morality of rational selfishness—that is, the moral standard of man's life and principles of egoism. Existentially, moral judgment is using one moral evaluations to guide one's actions, granting to each person that which he deserves, in the form of rewards and punishments. In Objectivism, there is one fundamental kind of recompense for (that is, an action in response to) the characters and actions of others, for their virtues and vices: the granting or withholding of one's moral sanction.

To morally sanction is to regard someone (or action, ideology, organization) as morally good and to endorse, support, approve, and generally promote that person (or action, function). In essence, it is acknowledging the good (that is, good people, practices, etc.) for what it is and choosing to deal with it, giving it one's spiritual and material support. The Objectivist theory of moral sanction holds that it is the good, as defined by the morality of rational egoism, who create and sustain the kind of world that is beneficial and conducive to human life; thus they deserve our support, our cooperation, the practicing of our virtues, and our recognition of the virtues that the good themselves practice.

The reason that people deserve one's moral sanction (or the withholding of it) is the fact of the effects of their volitional action (potential, if not actual) on one's own life and well-being. The people who employ the virtues of Objectivism--being rational, honest, productive--they are the ones who create the values that further our lives, and so it is an act of rationality on our part to repay such virtues with values, especially moral sanction, and vices with disvalues (particularly the withholding of such sanction). (Ayn Rand's Normative Ethics, p. 144) In addition, granting one's moral sanction is a way to protect the clarity of one's awareness of people, and the rationality of the ends and courses one chooses to pursue. (Rand, Virtue of Selfishness, 84-85) Moral sanction is a way to express the acknowledgment of the moral values that one perceives in another, and thus is a way to gauge the rationality of the areas of one's life that directly involve others. "It makes a difference whether one thinks that one is dealing with human errors of knowledge or with human evil." (The Virtue of Selfishness, 84-85)

The policy of moral sanction has important implications for how one deals with the morally good people one encounters, this much is certain. It also has an important implication in regard to human evil: the refusal to sanction it.

In essence, the evil in the Objectivist view is evasion, the willful rejection of one's reason and the rejection of reality, on the premise that if only one doesn't acknowledge something, then it doesn't exist. Due to the nature of evasion, evil is necessarily impotent—closing one's mind off to reality, and substituting one's wishes for it, is not the path to practicality. The nature of existence means that it has primacy over consciousness: conscious wishes, in and of themselves, are fruitless. Such a course of evasion can only end in the frustration of one's goals, the adoption of methods incompatible with the achievement of such goals, and the destruction of values—those of the evader and those of others with whom he deals, and this pertains especially to moral values. Indeed, destruction is the only power of the evil. The crazed dictator who starves millions and ruins his country's economy, the manipulative liar who wrecks his business plans and reputation, the hypocrite who eventually loses his friends and political endorsements—as a principle, the actions of evil are detrimental to human life. "Evil men, though impotent, can disappoint, deceive, and betray the innocent; if they turn to crime, they can rob, enslave, and kill." (Peikoff, Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn Rand, p. 331) It is due to the (in many cases, obvious) threats to one's self-interest that evil men and actions pose that constitutes the case against sanctioning evil. The immoral characters and actions of men deserve our refusal to sanction them, our moral condemnation, ostracism, and the discussion of the moral judgments made with others when this is appropriate (such as when someone is starting to befriend the immoral person).

Evil is impotent, but it can feed off of the virtues of the good, such as the thought and productive effort of slaves, the genuine benevolence of unsuspecting friends, the sense of justice of those who cannot fathom the deliberate evil that can exist in the characters of others. "Evil left to its own devices is powerless, but evil has not been left to its own devices. It has been able to survive by harnessing and placing the power of the good in its service." (Nathaniel Branden, Vision of Ayn Rand, p. 485) In response to such evil, the Objectivist position is that:

The weapon necessary to defend against evil is justice: the unequivocal identification of the evil as evil. This means the refusal to grant it, by word or by deed, any moral respectability. It is by scrupulously withholding from the irrational even a crumb of a moral sanction—by rejecting any form of accommodation with the irrational—by forcing the irrational to stand naked and unaided—that one keeps evil impotent. (Peter Schwartz, "On Moral Sanctions")

The failure to refuse to sanction evil takes a particularly painful form when the victim of evil concedes his moral stance to that of his enemies, his destroyers. In Objectivism, this is known as the "sanction of the victim." Nathaniel Branden (writing as an Objectivist in the 60s) states:

There is another form, perhaps the most tragic one, of the manner in which the good supports the evil and makes the success of evil possible. These are the countless situations where men of virtue help evil not because of their own evasions, weaknesses, or flaws, but because of their own virtues—because of their own innocence, honesty, generosity, endurance, and sense of justice. Innocence is the key virtue in such cases, the virtue most viciously exploited.

Men who are fundamentally rational are unable to conceive of the kind of motives that prompt the irrational. They do not understand the nature of evil and do not know how to identify its symptoms. Their own honesty makes them regard the wrong actions of others as mere errors of knowledge. Their generosity makes them feel benevolence towards others and reluctant to suspect the worst. Their endurance makes them willing to bear out a good deal of undeserved pain, on the assumption that those who caused it didn't do it intentionally. Their own sense of justice makes them unable to condemn others without understanding, and leads them to give others too much 'benefit of the doubt' for too long. This is the error which Ayn Rand calls, 'the sanction of the victim.'

'The sanction of the victim' means: the willingness to let one's own virtues be used by others against oneself. It means the willingness to bear injustice, to takes actions which help others against one's own rational self-interest, and to concede moral validity to the claims of one's own destroyers. (The Vision of Ayn Rand, 488)

Just as justice is the weapon needed to defend against evil, so it is one's defense against giving evil the sanction of the victim. Two of the characteristics of such sanction are (1) a moral double standard, in which a moral man mistakenly tolerates evils in others that he would condemn in his own character, and (2) an ignorance of the fact that evil men count on and condemn the victim's virtues--his honesty, integrity, productivity, and pride, among other positive traits—not his moral flaws. The solution to (1) and (2) is moral objectivity: being able to articulate one's moral code, to prove it to any honest inquisitor, to understand it, and to apply it to one's own life. In regard to (1), moral objectivity means justice: it means not tolerating what one regards as evil, but applying the same abstract standards and principles one practices in one's own life to the characters and actions of others, and judging them accordingly. "Whenever you are able to say about some immoral action, with full rational knowledge of your reasons, 'I would not permit myself to do this,' do not accept, tolerate, forgive, or sanction it, when it is done by others."(The Vision of Ayn Rand, 491) In regard to (2), moral objectivity means reminding oneself that virtue should be rewarded with values, not disvalues. Upon detecting that one's virtues are being exploited and simultaneously condemned, one should make this injustice apparent to the guilty party: one presents the objectivity of one's case and of one's judgment.

Obviously, there's a lot more to be said about moral sanction, but I think this covers the essential elements of it, as well its importance in the present controversy, i.e. What moral sanction is and how it is applied according to the philosophy of Objectivism.

Objectivism, Existential Aid, and Pragmatism

Peikoff and Kelley certainly differ on the topic of moral sanction. In addition to that, in Truth and Toleration (as well as The Contested Legacy of Ayn Rand), Kelley introduces the subject of existential aid, a point on which he claims that he disagrees with Peter Schwartz and Peikoff; I'll note that I agree with his judgment here: their disagreements here reveal philosophically relevant differences. To understand why, let's consider what they say.

Existential aid is benefiting something or someone in some material form, such as funding an event, increasing voter turnout, or even buying a movie ticket, insofar as one increases the movie's prospects for a great financial return on the production crew's expenses. The special case of aid that is being disputed is that of contributions to the morally evil.

Kelley's very first point about evil contributions is that, "it's impossible to avoid every such contribution." He elaborates on this point, claiming that we can't control the actions of others, and thus cannot control what they will do with the benefits we give to them. (CLAR, p. 32) In economics, we give such aid to evil totalitarian countries and groups indirectly, through our savings; in the "marketplace of ideas," we give such aid to magazines by benefiting them at the expense of helping to promote one's ideological enemies, and gaining Ph.D.s at the expense of fostering a graduate program that can continue to promote ideas that one is opposed to. These unavoidable contributions to evil aside, we must pursue our values, Kelley holds; negative consequences cannot deter us in living our lives and pursuing our values. With this in mind, we must "avoid aiding evil any more than necessary." We should make sure that any such aid is an unavoidable byproduct of a rational purpose." (p. 33) We should minimize our aid to evil as much as possible, and avoid granting such aid when the evil's magnitude outweighs the positive effect of our actions.

The first point I'd like to make is that the pursuit of values does not necessarily lead to the benefit of evil, contra Kelley. If the moral state of the people around us, and the world at large, is so corrupted that any given action towards a value may contribute to the morally evil in some way, that says a lot about the current state of things. It also makes the issues of morality, of justice and moral judgment, more urgent in our lives. (Ayn Rand's active philosophical career, for example, is a testament to this need for urgency, as she devoted vast amounts of her energy arguing for the good and rational, and making her judgments about irrationality and immorality known in countless instances. Typically this consisted in analyzing some morally corrupt expression or idea and identifying its relationship to Objectivism, and how a rational person should respond to it.) Kelley here seems to be forgetting the distinction between the metaphysically given and the man-made (Ayn Rand Lexicon: Metaphysical vs. Man-Made). The amount of evil in the world, and the possibility of our contributing to it, are both man-made facts, and accordingly are capable of being judged and changed for the better. As Objectivists, we are not content with minimizing our impact on the ends of evil, and living with the way things are—we are radicals for objectivity, for justice, for a rational society in which the evil is left unaided and condemned for what it is.

(Another way to combat any contributions to evil is practicing moral judgment and especially withholding one's moral sanction, but this will be discussed in the next section.)

In accordance with these ideas, which he calls "commonsense standards" (but aren't they technical details of Objectivism, in his view?), he states that we weigh the costs and benefits of an action, stressing the degree of the good or bad we think may result. As I said in the essay on moral judgment, the Objectivist position is not to merely to assess particular degrees of anything and then consider the "foreseeable consequences" or what "may result." What Kelley is saying is a variant of consequentialism—specifically, a form of pragmatism.

Kelley, of course, denies the charge of pragmatism, first raised by Peter Schwartz in "On Moral Sanctions." (CLAR p. 33) Since his denial is important here, I'll quote it in full:

A benefit is a value, and a cost is a disvalue. The essence of pragmatism is not its concern with costs and benefits; that concern is shared by any value[-]oriented, teleological ethics, including Objectivism. The essence of pragmatism is its claim that costs and benefits can be measured without the use of principles. That is why, as the old joke says, pragmatism doesn’t work.

Moral principles tell us what kinds of things are valuable or harmful, beneficial or costly to our lives. They tell us which traits of people are virtuous and vicious, and thereby tell us whom it is in our interest to deal with. To pursue our interests, therefore, we must act on principle: the moral is the practical. This point is not in dispute. But Schwartz writes as if every action we consider is governed by a single principle. In fact, this is almost never the case. The circumstances in which we act are normally complex, and the consequences various. We use principles to identify the goods and ills at stake, but we must then weigh the good against the ill, in the manner I’ve indicated. This normally requires that we consider specific degrees of good or harm. For example, we do not hesitate to put our money into savings instruments, despite the fact that we thereby lower the cost of loans to evil governments, because the benefits are substantial and the harm negligible. These are quantitative judgments, and they are not always this obvious. Such weighing of costs and benefits is the only possible method of acting on principle, and it is therefore morally required of us: the practical is the moral. (CLAR, pp. 33-34)

It's important to note here that in Objectivism, any sort of "cost-benefit analysis" does not have the kind of importance that Kelley here is stating it does. Objectivists are primarily principled, they live by and according to their principles—the issue of costs and benefits only arises after it's been decided that an action (or policy or function) is in accordance with one's principles. The reason is that principles are general truths on which a number of other truths depend, and thus integrate vast amounts of inductive data. (Though some principles are deductively formed as well.) We exploit the integrations made thereby, judging our actions by their long-range consequences and effects on our other ends, as gauged by the facts we know concerning the principles. If an action is deemed to be against one's principles, that rules it out—there's no need to further consider the case, as if one had to act without the benefit of principles: there's no point in such "cost-benefit" analysis. Objectivism holds that its moral principles identify the kinds of actions that are conducive to human life, and the ones which are detrimental to it—acting against one's principles must resort to courting disaster, and jeopardizing one's values.

In her chapter on integrity, Objectivist Tara Smith makes similar remarks on being principled:

To commit to a principle is to decide in advance how one should act when confronting certain kinds of choices. The reason to do that is the realization that a person will make better decisions that way. By stepping back from the immediate pulls and pushes of a decision-making situation, a person can better grasp what actions will be, all things considered, best for him. Adopting a principle means committing to staying that predetermined course, to taking the kinds of action that the principle prescribes when the relevant occasions arise. (Smith, Ayn Rand's Normative Ethics, p. 180)

Kelley doesn't explicitly deny the role of principles, but he does misunderstand them. He states that the role of principles is to inform us of the good or ill that is at stake, but that's all they do; we then must act on principle by means of cost-benefit analysis. That is not their only purpose, and the analysis of costs and benefits is not the follow-up of every consideration of actions and the principles governing them, as I've made clear.

As another indication of this misunderstanding, Kelley criticizes Schwartz's view, implying that it's simplistic: "...Schwartz writes as if every action we consider is governed by a single principle. In fact, this is almost never the case. The circumstances in which we act are normally complex, and the consequences various..." (p. 33) By implication of Kelley's statements, Objectivist principles are normally at war with each other in practical reality, and actions often have multiple principles governing them, offering conflicting moral estimates. In other words: principles are unhelpful in reality; cost-benefit analysis is necessary precisely because principles do not (and cannot, by his reasoning) allow us to determine the moral permissibility of an action, and thus cannot motivate our actions either way.

Kelley is criticizing principles for the same reason that explicit pragmatists have derided principles for nearly a century now. Principles are vast integrations and thus are highly abstract, and this very fact disqualifies them as offering practical guidance in this complex world we live in. As Rand once put it, describing the essence of pragmatism: "Their dogmatic agnosticism holds, as an absolute, that a principle is false because it is a principle—that conceptual integration (i.e., thinking) is impractical or 'simplistic'..." (Ayn Rand Lexicon: Pragmatism) The consideration of reality's complexity, and the seeming conflicts that can occur between principles, leads to a hypothesis that principles are indeed false, at least in some contexts: the cost-benefit analysis works in a way so as to solve the conflict and determine what action a person should take or judgment he should make.

The use of practical methods--cost-benefit analysis or otherwise--in response to the recognized failure of ideologies and principles, however, is quintessential pragmatism.

Kelley states that his position is not pragmatism because that school of philosophy endorses the view that costs and benefits can be measured without use of (or reference to) principles. But this lack of principles is one of the Big Lies spread by pragmatist theorists. The truth is that pragmatists typically plagiarize the popular philosophical ideas outside of their own philosophy, not crediting their sources, all the while criticizing those alien ideas and the philosophies upholding them. Dewey promoted a combination of racism, social subjectivism, and altruism without mentioning them (see his "My Pedagogic Creed"). William James's pragmatic theory of truth is in part the correspondence theory of truth melded with the coherence theory of truth (see his "Lecture VI. Pragmatism’s Conception of Truth"). Kelley is merely a pragmatist who explicitly incorporates (badly understood) Objectivist ideas into his philosophy.

An honest pragmatist is still a pragmatist.

On Sanction and Libertarianism

Kelley's section on sanction doesn't add much to the discussion. He adds that sanction involves a conscious judgment which is typically expressed in words, though there are cases where action would betray sanction even if the person consciously doesn't sanction a certain person, group, or organization. (p. 34) Kelley describes various degrees of association, ending with a short explanation of why a speaker's appearance is not a sanction of the group's ideas—that an Objectivist speaking at a libertarian function is not sanctioning libertarianism. He compares the speaker events of ideological groups to that of more open-forum venues, like that of the Ford Hall Forum, which Rand famously attended. It is mistaken to hold that a speaker agrees with the ideology of whomever he is speaking to. (p. 35)

His footnote #5 gives an important quote from Rand, one which Kelley thinks agrees with his view. Here is his footnote in full:

Several people have drawn my attention to the fact that Ayn Rand dealt with precisely this point in connection with a charge by Senate liberals that Justice William Rehnqulst once spoke to a right-wing group: “This is an insidious kind of intimidation: it equates a speaker’s views with those of the discussion’s sponsors. A man of integrity is conscientiously precise about the nature of his views on any subject. If his views are going to be judged, not by his own statements, but by the views of those who invite him to speak... then his only alternative is to accept no speaking engagements. If so, what happens to our freedom of speech?” “The Disenfranchisement of the Right,” The Ayn Rand Letter I (Dec.20, 1971), p. 26.

Rand is correct: it is intellectually dishonest to judge a speaker by the view of those who ask him to speak, instead of his own statements. But Kelley is grossly mistaken if he believes that this is what Peikoff and Schwartz were doing, or that this was the reason why the ARI ended its association with him. Part of the reason was his refusal to denounce The Passion of Ayn Rand, as Kelley claimed, and this is true. Barbara Branden was guilty of psychologizing and rationalization on a massive scale (which I've only learned about in these last few months), and had succeeded in her destruction of the value of Rand's character in the minds of many, and still does so today (check out the Objectivist Living forum and The Atlas Society, for more on that). (My opinion of her has dropped even lower as my reading of The Passion of Ayn Rand's Critics continues.) The other part of the reason was the presentation of his philosophical views justifying his action at the Supper Club as contained in "A Question of Sanction," not his speaking there as such. (Though his failure to articulate what he thinks libertarianism is in contrast to Schwartz's view, and his dealings with libertarians regardless, certainly didn't help.)

Schwartz, in his two essays on moral sanction, didn't equate Kelley's views with those of his libertarian audience. He criticizes Kelley for arguing for Objectivism in a format endorsed and structured by libertarians, under their "auspices." There was a well-reasoned argument for this:

If one wishes to reach those who have been defrauded by Libertarianism, it cannot be done by speaking under the auspices of the defrauders. It cannot be done even if one’s topic is why Objectivism offers the proper foundation for genuine liberty. Such a talk grants Libertarianism precisely the moral sanction it seeks and thrives on. Libertarians will readily listen to a talk on Objectivism and liberty—and the next day they will invite someone to speak on why the Bible is the only basis for liberty—and the next week they will hear someone argue why only skepticism and amoralism can validate liberty, etc. They lap this up. It is all entirely consistent with Libertarianism. It is consistent with the philosophy that philosophies and reasons are irrelevant to a belief in 'liberty.' By speaking under the roof of an organization dedicated to purveying Libertarianism, one concedes that Libertarianism does in fact value liberty (and is simply confused about the proper means—i.e., Objectivism—by which to gain that end). Once that fatal concession is made, Libertarianism has obtained the basic moral sanction its survival requires. (On Moral Sanctions)

Kelley is focused on his own motivations for speaking there: "I am therefore on record as having refused to endorse, approve, or sanction any subjectivist variety of libertarianism. It would be entirely irrational to attribute to me a moral judgment that I not only haven’t made, but have explicitly and publicly rejected." (p. 36) He fails to mention that the motives of the libertarians may have something to do with Schwartz's claims: namely, the intellectual promiscuity that libertarianism relies on and fully encourages, the desire to incorporate a host of philosophical viewpoints and adherents to a "common cause." To sanction libertarianism, all one needs to do is claim that they genuinely value "liberty" and that they are a positive force in the cultural (and global) fight for liberty and a proper society—exactly what Kelley did then, and does now (see William Thomas's and Kelley's "What Is the Objectivist View of Libertarianism?") Kelley's actions betray his conscious judgments.

Kelley objects to Schwartz's charge that it is a form of nihilism and subjectivism. But he has no way to identify the political philosophy as a positive alternative to the image formed by Schwartz's arguments. At best, he says: "It is one thing to hold that the advocacy of liberty does not require any objective philosophical basis. It is another thing—and in my experience a more common view among libertarians—to hold that liberty does have an objective basis, but that one may make common cause with those who subscribe to a basis other than one’s own." Since when was Objectivism the common view held by libertarians—or does Kelley now believe that other philosophies can give objective bases for liberty? He also says that the motivation for libertarians isn't what Schwartz says it is, but is more likely an attempt to figure out which philosophy is correct, and therefore which philosophy offers the defense for liberty. (p. 38) "Why would a group bother to invite philosophers at all if they thought philosophy irrelevant?" Kelley asks. The answer in my mind is: to keep up the pretense of being considered a serious political philosophy.

There's never going to be a final answer for libertarianism as to which philosophy offers the best, or only, defense for liberty, because its basic method is to deny that any definitive defense is necessary or desirable. Libertarianism presented itself as a big tent political program, and the subsequent decades haven't lead to a philosophically reasoned consensus, but to further divisions and disagreements. For proof of this, consult the vast and varied works of libertarian authors, and consider their arguments, which I predict will only continue to grow and become even more disparate. (I'll caution that the amount of libertarian works produced has long since became too much to read in a lifetime.) If Kelley's vision was a libertarianism in agreement with (or largely in favor of) Objectivism, as philosophical and political allies, then I truly believe Kelley's hopes are in vain.

Conclusion

Moral Sanction is an important topic in the Objectivist ethics, and understanding it is necessary for not only understanding this debate, but for applying the philosophy in one's own life and for one's own benefit. I certainly hope my essay has helped in both regards. On this topic, as in others, Kelley hasn't represented the Objectivist view in any significant way, and has made claims that are clearly opposed to it, such as our pursuit of interests necessarily benefiting evil. I've also given my reasons for thinking that Kelley is guilty of the very pragmatism he's been denying, largely due to his lack of appreciation for the underlying method of that school of philosophy. Finally, I've argued that Kelley was indeed sanctioning libertarianism, and that his behavior towards libertarianism over these past two decades is no different than it was before his split with the ARI, and is quite the opposite of not sanctioning them.

Reference Works

Ayn Rand Lexicon: Evil
Ayn Rand Lexicon: Metaphysical vs. Man-Made
Ayn Rand Lexicon: Moral Judgment
Ayn Rand Lexicon: Pragmatism
Ayn Rand Lexicon: Sanction
Ayn Rand Lexicon: Sanction of the Victim

Branden, Nathaniel. The Vision of Ayn Rand: The Basic Principles of Objectivism. Gilbert: Cobden Press, 2009.

Dewey, John. "My Pedagogic Creed" Accessed April 22, 2010.

Hsieh, Diana. Documents, Sanction, and Confusion Accessed April 17, 2010.

James, William. Lecture VI. Pragmatism's Conception of Truth

Kelley, David. 'A Question of Sanction." March 1989. http://www.objectivistliving.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=722 Accessed March 27, 2010.
Kelley, David, The Contested Legacy of Ayn Rand: Truth and Toleration in Objectivism. 2000 (1990)
Kelley, David, and William Thomas. "What is the Objectivist View of Libertarianism?" http://www.objectivistcenter.org/showcontent.aspx?ct=591&h=54 Accessed April 21, 2010.

Peikoff, Leonard. "Fact & Value." http://www.aynrand.org/site/PageServer?pagename=objectivism_fv Accessed April 14, 2010.
Peikoff, Leonard. Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn Rand. New York: Meridian, 1993 (1991).

Rand, Ayn. The Virtue of Selfishness: A New Concept of Egoism. New York: Signet, 1964.
Rand, Ayn. The Voice of Reason: Essays in Objectivist Thought. Edited by Leonard Peikoff. New York: Meridian, 1990.

Schwartz, Peter: On Moral Sanctions Accessed April 13, 2010.
Schwartz, Peter. On Sanctioning the Sanctioners Accessed April 13, 2010.

Smith, Tara. Ayn Rand's Normative Ethics: the Virtuous Egoist. Cambridge U, 2006,

Part 3: On Moral Judgment

Introduction

As I've said in the previous parts, Leonard Peikoff and David Kelley differ on a number of issues, especially in the realm of ethics, but also in epistemology in subtler ways (and some which are not so subtle). We'll see several examples of these differences as we discuss their views on moral judgment a bit later. Before delving into these positions, I'd like to offer my own interpretation on moral judgment in the Objectivist view. If my analysis is accurate, it will benefit us greatly in assessing the relative merits of both sides.

My View of Objectivist Moral Judgment

Moral judgment is an aspect of justice, the virtue of identifying and evaluating the characters and actions of the individuals which one deals with by reference to moral principles, and acting according to one's estimates. While we need to judge individuals in numerous different respects and for many (non-moral) reasons, such as intelligence, romance prospects, musical tastes, and career interests, moral judgment allows us to understand the essence of the person, the moral principles which mold his character and direct his actions. In other words, we use our reason to identify the relevant facts about the individual's character and actions, evaluate these facts logically and reach an assessment, and then act on this assessment, thereby granting each person that which he deserves. Like all acts of justice, moral judgment, is a means of promoting our interests in the field of men and women around us.

The Objectivist view of moral judgment recognizes a basic fact about human beings: our minds are in our own private awareness and possession, and are therefore inaccessible to others, in and of themselves. It is only when our mental processes are manifested in some kind of physical action that they become perceivable by others (they are perceived in the form of inferences that can be drawn), and it is only then that the person can be judged, morally and in other respects. To further clarify, morality (and philosophy) is concerned with a person as a conscious being, the aspect of his mind that can be directly controlled by his actions. It is only the evidence (actions) of a person's conscious mind—his observable actions, statements, and conscious convictions—that can be used to judge his moral character.

(The evidence of the human subconscious, as well as the natural facts about the human mind and its abilities in general, are the subject matters of psychology, of course, but not of moral judgment, morality, or philosophy. For Rand's view on the differences between morality and psychology, and the errors that occur in mixing or ignoring their domains, see "The Psychology of Psychologizing," in The Voice of Reason, pp. 23-31. For more information on the facts of the conscious mind in regard to moral judgment, see ibid., pp. 27-29; Leonard Peikoff, Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn Rand (OPAR), p. 280.)

The means by which we must judge the moral characters of others is established by rationality. Rationality, the application of one's reason to the issues of human life, is not something that can be dispensed with. Reasoning, logical analysis, objective evaluation according to one's standards, acting towards goals and values through a rational thought process—such are our tools for navigating the realm of facts and achieving our well-being. The aspect of rationality known as justice acknowledges that the same reasoning applies to the facts regarding people as to inanimate matter and the other forms of life:

Justice is the recognition of the fact that you cannot fake the character of men just as you cannot fake the character of nature, that you must judge all men as conscientiously as you judge inanimate objects, with the same respect for truth, with the same incorruptible vision, by as pure and as rational a process of identification—that every man must be judged for what he is and treated accordingly... (For the New Intellectual, p. 144)

Forming a judgment essentially means evaluating a concrete by the application of an abstract principle or standard (Lexicon entry: Moral Judgment). In the case of moral judgment, this means evaluating the characters and actions of people as good or bad according to the abstract standard of man's life, the "terms, methods, conditions and goals required for the survival of a rational being through the whole of his lifespan—in all those aspects of existence which are open to his choice." (Rand, "The Objectivist Ethics," The Virtue of Selfishness, p. 26) That which furthers the life of a rational being is the good by the standard of man's life—that which detracts from or negates man's life is the evil. By reference to this standard, we identify and evaluate the characters and actions of people by their effects on man's life, as well as their causes. It is the recognition of these facts that also allows us to evaluate the people we're assessing in relation to moral principles. Thus, on the basis of the evidence we discover, we can determine if the people we deal with are characteristically rational or irrational, productive or parasitical/lazy, honest or dishonest, principled or hypocritical.

To reach an assessment of a person's moral character, we must judge that person's actions and convictions by their causes and effects. When judging a person's actions, one identifies the ideas, value-judgments, and mental process which led to the action (the cause), and the physical results of the action (the effect), and evaluates all of this according to man's life as either good or bad. In the judgment of a person's ideas or value-judgments, one must determine the evidence for the idea's truth or falsehood, the cause-and-effect of the idea—the mental processes that led to it and the physical actions that would result from acting on it (or already have resulted), and then evaluate these elements by reference to the same standard. Rand states the point similarly in regard to actions:

The basic principle that should guide one's judgment in issues of justice is the law of causality: one should never attempt to evade or break the connection between cause and effect – one should never attempt to deprive a man of the consequences of his actions, good or evil. (Rand, Letters of Ayn Rand, p. 558, quoted in Tara Smith, Ayn Rand's Normative Ethics: the Virtuous Egoist, p. 143)

The parallel lesson, that we must morally judge people's ideas and convictions, can be understood by realizing why the philosophy advocates paying attention to the statements and other manifestations of a person's convictions, such as in a written treatise. Statements and convictions are expressions of ideas. Ideas are not isolated phenomena, with little to no relation to other facts and to our lives; rather, they are integral to human life, allowing us to identify and pursue our goals, motivating our actions, and changing our personal understanding of ourselves and our social/political relationships, for better or worse. The very fact that Objectivism counsels using abstract ideas and standards ("man's life," "good," "evil," "rational being," etc.) presupposes this understanding of the role of ideas in human life. It is because of this cause and effect relationship between the mind's ideas and their ramifications (beneficial or harmful) in the outside world that ideas must be judged according to man's life as the moral standard.

(This, I submit, is the reason why Ayn Rand considers German philosopher Immanuel Kant to be the most evil person in human history (see, Rand, "Brief Summary,” The Objectivist, Sept. 1971, 4; Lexicon entry: Kant, Immanuel). Kant was not a violent or overtly manipulative man, in fact he was a model citizen of Germany, but his theories and philosophy were irrational in Rand's view, and had to lead to widespread destruction and death in action.)

This respect for causality is reflected by our assessment of people in relation to our moral principles, as well. In the Objectivist view, moral principles are identifications of the actions needed to sustain the life of a rational being—they are recognitions of facts that, in principle, lead to the achievement of values. Because of this, they are judged as "good," by the standard of man's life. As a consequence, our evaluation of people as being rational, honest, productive must mean, other things being equal, that one can expect to benefit from dealing with him, creating and gaining new values and social relationships (friendship, love); our evaluations of people as being their opposites—irrational, dishonest, parasitical—must mean that one can expect the loss and destruction of one's values, other things being equal.

Identifying the facts pertaining to particular individuals, and evaluating them by reference to abstract standards and moral principles, constitutes the intellectual aspect of moral judgment. Now, we must consider the existential aspect: granting to each man that which he deserves. To "deserve" something is to possess certain qualities or complete certain actions so as to become worthy of some kind of recompense, positive or negative This recompense takes the form of rewards and punishments:

A reward is a value given to man in payment for his virtue or achievement; it is a positive such as praise, friendship, a sum of money, or a special prerogative. A punishment is a disvalue inflicted in payment for vice or fault; it is a negative such as condemnation, the withholding of friendship or even outright ostracism, or the loss of money or prerogative, including (in criminal cases) the loss of freedom or of life itself. (Leonard Peikoff, Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn Rand, p. 283)

Recognizing the role of causality in the creation of values and the promotion of our lives, we esteem those whom we judge to be virtuous, bestowing on them our moral sanction, business deals, and time (among other things), and we condemn those we judge to be vicious, withdrawing our sanction, separating from them professionally, actively avoiding them (also advising others to stay away from them as a matter of safety, among other things). [I'll discuss moral sanction in much more detail in my upcoming essay on the subject.] This stems from Objectivism's broader theory that we should recognize and adopt the "trader principle," the principle that one should expect and give rewards and punishments as payments, as an exchange for the material and spiritual benefits (or detriments) that one possesses or judges others to possess. A trader is a person who treats others as equals, neither seeking something for nothing, nor granting something for nothing; in turn, a trader exchanges value for value, seeking mutual consent to mutual benefit, whether in issues of matter or spirit. The trader says that "[a] man deserves from others that and only that which he earns." (OPAR, p. 287).

Lastly (and most importantly), moral judgment must be understood for its egoistic basis and ramifications. All moral principles, according to Objectivism, should be accepted because they promote our self-interests. In the case of moral judgment, we identify the moral characters of those we deal with, thereby creating avenues to promote our values, and protecting ourselves from those who would do harm to our values (and our persons). The virtuous are the kind of people we can expect to enhance our lives, such as a brilliant scientist, a gifted composer, an articulate teacher; the vicious are the kind of people we can expect to detract from (or even destroy) our lives, such as a manipulative liar, a violent brute, a ruthless dictator. More importantly, justice, especially moral justice, is the principle that protects and promotes those who think and sustain the human way of existence. Because justice demands that the virtuous, in effect, deal with and uphold the similarly virtuous, it is the moral principle that preserves those who preserve life. (OPAR, p. 278)

(I'll provide a list of references for the Objectivist view of moral judgment at the end of the essay. Please keep in mind that this is my own summary of the virtue of justice, and there is a lot of derivative material on the virtue missing. Among them are: what is a person's "character" and how it is formed; how Objectivism deals with people of morally mixed--"gray"--characters in contrast to morally "white" and "black" individuals; how the virtue of justice applies to individuals we do not know enough information about someone else to judge them objectively; the distinction between errors of knowledge and breaches of morality; how moral judgment demands an unimpeachable, uncorrupted character in the man who pronounces moral judgment; the relation of Aristotle's principle of "final causation" to all of this. I'm discussing what I take to be the essence of moral judgment; other aspects will be considered in later essays, but others may have to wait for another time.)

Does an "Is" Imply an "Ought"?

In the Contested Legacy of Ayn Rand (CLAR), page 20, Kelley criticizes Peikoff's claim that "every fact bears on the choice to live," stating that certain seemingly unimportant facts have no bearing on his, Kelley's, life. Before I discuss this point, I'll quote two relevant paragraphs from Peikoff (which also includes Peikoff's quoted statement):

In the objective approach, since every fact bears on the choice to live, every truth necessarily entails a value-judgment, and every value-judgment necessarily presupposes a truth. As Ayn Rand states the point in “The Objectivist Ethics”: “Knowledge, for any conscious organism, is the means of survival; to a living consciousness, every ‘is’ implies an ‘ought.’” Evaluation, accordingly, is not a compartmentalized function applicable only to some aspects of man’s life or of reality; if one chooses to live and to be objective, a process of evaluation is coextensive with and implicit in every act of cognition.

This applies even to metaphysically given facts (as distinguished from man-made facts). Metaphysically given facts, Miss Rand points out, cannot as such be evaluated. Sunlight, tidal waves, the law of gravity, et al. are not good or bad; they simply are; such facts constitute reality and are thus the basis of all value-judgments. This does not, however, alter the principle that every “is” implies an “ought.” The reason is that every fact of reality which we discover has, directly or indirectly, an implication for man’s self-preservation and thus for his proper course of action. In relation to the goal of staying alive, the fact demands specific kinds of actions and prohibits others; i.e., it entails a definite set of evaluations. (Fact and Value)

With this in mind, it's important to note that Kelley misunderstands the import of that clause he quoted. Kelley believes Peikoff is saying that every fact impacts our choice of whether or not we choose to live, which I agree would be obviously false. But what Peikoff is saying (as the surrounding context makes clear) is that every fact has an implication for our goal of self-preservation, after we've chosen that as our goal. This implication(s) is expressed in the form of evaluations in the objective approach; after that choice has been made, nothing is completely irrelevant to that goal. Even Kelley's examples, of hairs on Plato's beards and the number of grass blades in Peikoff's lawn, are intelligible if we've already evaluated similar facts and judged them to be irrelevant to our survival. Kelley even acknowledges one aspect of this: "The bearing that a given fact may have for our lives is not self-evident; to establish its significance, we must undertake a further process of investigation, including the discovery and integration of other related facts." (CLAR p. 20)

Kelley continues, taking aim at Peikoff's claim that "cognition implies evaluation."

He states:

From the flood of information pouring through perception, from the mass of information we encounter in reading, conversation, or experience, we become aware of a great many facts. Many of them are irrelevant to our purposes, and we properly disregard them. Others are of such marginal or dubious relevance that it isn’t worth our while to ascertain their value significance. (ibid.)

His criticism, however, is not in any way devastating; he merely claims that Peikoff is going beyond his limits in making claims about objectivity, cognition, and evaluation such as these:

[...]if one chooses to live and to be objective, a process of evaluation is coextensive with and implicit in every act of cognition. (FV)

The reason is that every fact of reality which we discover has, directly or indirectly, an implication for man’s self-preservation and thus for his proper course of action. In relation to the goal of staying alive, the fact demands specific kinds of actions and prohibits others; i.e., it entails a definite set of evaluations.

Kelley claims that this goes too far. Often, we merely evaluate a given fact epistemologically, in whether it is worth our time and effort to give it any more consideration; rarely is it the case that we need to be cognizant of a fact, as well as evaluate it in terms of our purposes and our own lives. Peikoff claims that, in the objective approach, cognition and evaluation are inextricably linked; Kelley applies this unbreakable link instead to the relation of cognition and cognitive evaluation:

In this attenuated sense, it is true without exception that all cognition involves evaluation; the point follows from the fact that cognition is goal-directed...(21)

(As an aside, I disagree that we're merely dealing with deduction from the premise that "cognition is goal-directed." From that, we'd only get precise examples of goal-directed cognitions as deductive conclusions, not the point that cognition involves evaluation. The argument either needs more premises and information to infer what Kelley wants here, or it needs induction. For some of my views on induction (and deduction), as well as my thoughts on other thinkers in philosophy's history on this subject, please see my other essays on this site.)

First, Peikoff doesn't merely say that cognition "involves" evaluation, he's claiming that the former demands the latter, that this is what objectivity means here. Cognition also involves the brain, but the brain doesn't have the kind of importance here that Peikoff is claiming evaluation to have—Peikoff's making a stronger claim than Kelley is implying in his word choice.

Second, and more important, is that I don't think Kelley has understood how objectivity applies here. His perspective reminds me of how a person from our culture would discuss the issue, if he had the philosophical ideas to express his thoughts. In everyday life, I'm sure that many people live their lives not considering how their thoughts on various topics and issues correspond with their values, especially moral values, or how their thoughts would determine their evaluations. But being objective means more than this, and it is radically different from the cultural influences on our thinking.

In footnote #2 to chapter one, Kelley claims that the quote Peikoff uses from Rand is basically lifted out of its context, and questions his interpretation. (The quote is: "Knowledge, for any conscious organism, is the means of survival; to a living consciousness, every ‘is’ implies an ‘ought’.) But let's take a look at a similar quote from Rand, in one of her matured journal entries on the philosophy behind Galt's speech:

...If you cannot judge, you will not think. The aim of every action, mental or physical, is to achieve a value, to further your life. Why think, if you cannot reach any conclusion, if you cannot appraise the value of any choice? Every thought implies a value judgment. [Sound familiar?] If you cannot value, you cannot think. You may know that giving poison to a man will kill him, but why consider it, if you cannot know whether it is right or wrong to kill him? (Journals of Ayn Rand, p. 660)

It's telling that Kelley doesn't consider his disagreement with Rand here (in the footnote) to be a departure of the philosophy (assuming her statement which Peikoff quoted is in essence the same as the one I just used, which seems to be the case). It's not just a disagreement with her on a non-philosophical issue, or an application of her philosophy to some issue, but a technical point between epistemology and ethics, on the role of objectivity in both fields.

In her essay, "How Does One Lead a Rational Life in an Irrational Society?" Rand states that, "[the policy of always pronouncing moral judgment means]: (a) that one must know clearly, in full, verbally identified form, one's own moral evaluation of every person, issue and event with which one deals, and act accordingly..." (p. 84) Since this is what Rand takes to be the Objectivist kind of moral judgment, we should appreciate how much this differs from Kelley's account.

To understand this difference, we must consider why one should have to know (clearly and verbally) one's own moral evaluation of "every person, issue and event with which one deals, and act accordingly." The reason is that no aspect of reality is separated or unconnected to our lives, no matter how insignificant a given fact may seem; we need to know our moral evaluations of such things as a guide to our actions regarding them. Choosing to live demands a lot more from an Objectivist than forming some solidly-constructed concepts, and "[deciding] whether it is worth our while, in light of our purposes, to evaluate a given fact." (CLAR, p. 21) Some facts are worth study beyond those that are relevant to our purposes, because purposes do not singlehandedly determine the worthiness of the attention we should pay to reality. A good Objectivist is someone who recognizes this, who gains knowledge of reality with the express purpose of evaluating its impact on that individual's life, and this necessarily includes a great number of facts across a broad spectrum of fields; this is a person who is constantly expanding his moral knowledge and evaluations, because this is one of the demands of the virtue of rationality.

Rationality is, in part, objectivity: it is recognizing the facts of reality and integrating them with what you already know, and this includes moral values and judgments. Kelley seems to criticize this take on objectivity, saying that, "objectivity requires that we be prepared to identify the factual basis of all our values, not that we engage in a fevered search for the possible value implications of every fact we encounter." Whatever his opinion of Peikoff's view on this, by suggesting that only some facts are worth our cognitive attention and moral evaluation, he's actually stating that one's cognitive discoveries need not be morally assessed. In this case, I agree with Peikoff that Kelley has abandoned the concept of "objectivity" here, as he, "[rejects Rand's] view of logic, which demands that one integrate every idea with perceptual data and with all one’s other ideas, including one’s code of moral values." (FV)

Kelley on Moral Judgment

Motives and Consequences, Rationality and Life

Kelley spends the rest of his first chapter discussing moral judgment from the Objectivist view, or rather, his take on this view. The problem I have with it is his set-up and deceitful language. Basically, he compares moral judgment to our judgments of non-moral actions and things, claims that Objectivism has no developed account of how to combine a person's motives and consequences into a single judgment (of how to morally judge others), and then proceeds to give his account of moral judgment, as if the philosophy doesn't have one already.

The question Kelley wants to address is how to integrate the consequences of an action with the motives for the action into a single moral judgment of the actor. Philosophers have been battling over this issue for centuries, and Kelley believes that the philosophy has little to add to the dispute. Well, in a sense, he's right: since Objectivism doesn't separate the two factors of an action, motives and consequences, it isn't left in bewilderment as to how to integrate them again.

Objectivism regards humans as indivisible entities of mind and body, consciousness and matter. Related to this, the most important attribute for judging these aspects of a given individual--like his motives and his actions' consequences--is the individual's character. A person's character is the result of that persons' actions and chosen moral values, and is expressed by the principles he lives by. A person's character, then, is his basic nature, the typical way the person uses his mind and lives his life. (Tara Smith, Ayn Rand's Normative Ethics, p. 141) It is a person's character that determines the kind of actions he takes (and usually would even consider taking), their likely consequences, and the type of thinking he will engage in, and this includes the motives he will adopt. The best way to understand a person's motives and to understand what shaped the consequences of his actions is to understand a person's character.

As a consequence, the philosophy has nothing to offer for philosophers trying to determine whether motives or consequences are important in determining moral judgment, and if they are, to what extent. To fill in this supposed lacuna in the philosophy, Kelley has taken the task of addressing the debate in its terms. He starts by claiming that reaching a moral judgment of an action involves judging the consequences of the action as well as judging the motives. These factors are measured by different standards in Kelley's view: consequences are judged by the standard of life, and motives are judged by the standard of rationality. He criticizes the two camps, those who favor consequences in isolation as morally worthy of judgment and those who uphold the person's motives as decisive of the moral verdict to be given to the action. Afterward, he attempts to integrate motives and consequences by focusing on the standards of rationality and life, and gives an example of their interrelation. He then presents four types of moral judgment, and concludes with a criticism of Peikoff's position. It has the structure and feel of an academic philosophy paper, but lacks an accurate and detailed presentation of Objectivism's actual position on this issue.

For starters, let's analyze his claim that the elements of a human, chosen action have two different standards of judgment, one of life for consequences, and one of rationality for motives. The easiest criticism to make is that nowhere in the Objectivist corpus is human action split into two aspects, motives and consequences, with different standards applied to each—this is Kelley's "open system" at work. The genuine Objectivist position is that a person's motives are identified for what they are and evaluated according to the standard of man's life, just as consequences of moral actions are, and then the motive and the person are treated as they deserve in response to our evaluation. Kelley eventually states this point as well (on page 23), but he has to use some confusing logic to reach it. He says:

If we divorce the inner choice from the outer action, then we divorce the standard of rationality from the standard of life. But rationality is a means to an end, not an end in itself. If reason did not help us pursue and maintain our lives—if it made no difference whether we thought well, or poorly, or not at all—then rationality would not be a virtue nor a standard of judgment. In moral judgment, as in any other type of evaluation, life is the fundamental and all-encompassing standard. (CLAR 23)

What's confusing is this whole approach—positing two different, but somehow related, standards, and then struggling to relate them in a way that effectively makes one of them subordinate and seemingly unnecessary. (The standard of rationality, based on Kelley's reasoning above, only has meaning in relation to the standard of life, and so seems to be pointless.)

A well-versed Objectivist, on the other hand, knows that the standard of rationality is the same as the standard of life: reality, and the commitment to stay in it. It is reality that determines the rationality of an action or a goal, because it is the metaphysically given, mind-independent facts of reality that determine the means to the goal's accomplishment, and the consequences for any such achievement. In other words, we assess the rationality of human action and goals by its relationship to the laws of identity and cause and effect:

Reality sets the standard of rationality. Facts about the world we inhabit—facts that are quite independent of human wishes or purposes—render certain ends unattainable, render certain ends incompatible with other ends, and render certain ends destructive of ends that are necessary for a person's ability to pursue any ends. (Viable Values, p. 49)

Similarly, the choice to live determines the rationality of goals and actions insofar as rationality is in service to human life: a person who is completely unfazed by the prospects of life or death and has no concern for either outcome thus has no reason to be rational or irrational, to pay attention to the facts in the world or respect causality (or even to distort or reverse cause and effect, in the case of irrationality).

(For more information on the relationship of reason, rationality, and reality, see Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Rationality, Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Reason, and Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Responsibility/Obligation; Rand, "Causality Versus Duty," pp. 128-136; Peikoff, Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn Rand, p. 244, 248; Tara Smith, Viable Values, pp. 48-51.)

In the same respect, it is reality that determines what needs to be achieved to sustain human life, the consequences for failing to satisfy such needs, and the need to form and live by concepts and principles. Reality, and the choice to live, are the deepest reasons why man's life is the standard of moral value and morality. Just like the relationship between the choice to live and rationality, a person indifferent to his own life or death has no reason to act or follow any moral code or to assign any standards for determining values.

Rather than the standard of rationality being subordinated to the standard of life, the true point is that the standard of rationality constitutes the standard of life, as Diana Hsieh reasoned in "David Kelley's Mind-Body Dichotomy in Moral Judgment". This point isn't missed by knowledgeable Objectivists: it's partly the reason why the moral standard of man's life has both human life (as expressed by egoism, the policy of selfishly pursuing human life) and rationality as its basic elements: "Since reason is man’s basic means of survival, that which is proper to the life of a rational being is the good; that which negates, opposes or destroys it is the evil. " (Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Morality.)

Kelley ends the sub-section "Moral Judgment" with two examples of evasion, with an alleged enormous difference of degree. He contrasts the evasion of a dieter cheating with some dessert, with the mass-murdering evasions of a totalitarian dictator. In response to this, he says that we, "measure the degree of irrationality by considering the scope and value significance of the foreseeable consequences that were evaded." (p. 23) Actually, the Objectivist approach is to identify what irrationality and evasion are, relate it to fundamental facts about human nature and reality, and then relate any practical (not merely "foreseeable") consequences to those facts—in other words, we exercise the mental processes of reduction and integration (elaborated upon in OPAR, chapter 4, "Objectivity").

Evasion is the willful suspension of one's reason, thought, and judgment—it is the volitional refusal to use's one reason to gain knowledge or guide one's actions or achieve one's values. Irrationality is the commitment to evading, to defying reason and thus to rejecting a means of human survival, a policy of not recognizing reality for what it is and thus inviting disaster and destruction. The latter is the logical consequence of the former, and both of them lead to and are expressed by what Rand calls "whim-worship," the seeking of desires and acting without reference to the cause of the desire, its rationality, or whether it can even be achieved. Regardless of the degree of irrationality, then, it is still fundamentally opposed to rationality and reality; the consequences of such a stance have to be the destruction of one's values, the inability to deal with reality, and death. It is these facts (and the philosophy's positive evaluation of rationality) which constitute Objectivism's censure of irrationality and evasion, and its designation of the latter as the source of the former and the very source of evil itself. Applying this to the relevant cases: it is true that the dieter's action was a minor lapse, but it's still something that he needs to recognize for what it was and correct it, committing himself to rationality and rejecting any indulgences in evasion; and the dictator is well beyond any moral reform, not only due to his use of force (in that respect alone, his soldiers may be more guilty than he is), but more significantly it is due to the countless and massive evasions and outright irrationality which rules his life.

But the moral judgment of these two cases and the evaluation of their respective degrees of irrationality can't be understood by merely considering the "scope and value significance of the foreseeable consequences that were evaded." On this consequentialist approach, a consideration of a few cases of evasion and irrationality would be sufficient for a rule of thumb of, say, "reject evasion," or "stay rational," but it wouldn't be the principled approach that characterizes Objectivism—it wouldn't identify the causes of the consequences or relate them to the principles of human survival. We would be left are merely pragmatic estimations or suggestions of actions without adherence to principles: this, I believe, characterizes Kelley's approach and basic methodology, and is another instance where he differs substantially from Objectivism.

(For a brief discussion of the Objectivist approach versus the consequentialist approach, read the comment thread here at Noodlefood, starting at comment #15.)

Types of Moral Judgment?

Kelley presents his (admitted) sketch of the types of moral judgments that an objective person would need to take. He claims that these types are "evaluating an action, interpreting its motive, inferring a character trait, and judging that someone is good or bad as a person." (p. 23) But these aren't "types" of moral judgments, merely different aspects of the same issue: reaching a judgment of the person in question. "Types" suggest something that can stand alone, that has significant features in common with other particular things, but a person's actions, convictions, motives, and character traits are all aspects in relation to reaching a verdict on his moral stature.

His discussion of evaluating actions though, the first type of moral judgment, has an important epistemological point that he makes and that should draw our attention. Quoting himself from "A Question of Sanction," he states:

When we formulate moral principles, we abstract from differences of degree; we omit measurements, as Ayn Rand explained. But when we apply the principles in forming moral judgments about particulars, we must reintroduce the relevant measurements.

This is mistaken. Formulating moral principles doesn't merely involve abstracting from differences in measurement—it is also crucially involves integration, or "measurement-inclusion," as Harry Binswanger once called it. Generally, we integrate our knowledge of the units of the concept, as this is the essence of measurement-omission or abstraction, and this allows us to apply this knowledge to any new concrete of the same kind. It is in reference to this integration that distinctions can be made, and they are considered a secondary matter.

For instance, if one had judged several individuals to be good by the Objectivist standard, then adherence to one's moral principles would demand that one grant them one's moral sanction. Depending on the values at stake and interests of the individuals involved, this sanction may also include occasional discussions, gifts, becoming friends, a romantic relationship, or a business partnership, among other benefits. All are responses to differences of degree, but must conform to the relevant principles in order to actually be in the person's interests.

This can't be done if we "reintroduce the measurements." Doing so ruins the conceptual relations and connections made in the integration, as we're now dealing with different particulars with different measurements. It makes following principles impossible, and principles themselves superfluous. Kelley says that we must "specify these measurements to know the degree of wrong done by a thief. It is worse to embezzle a person's life savings than to steal an apple from his tree." (p. 24) We can't know which is worse without first understanding the relation between the instances presented and the relevant principles. I said earlier that Kelley's approach would lead to rules of thumb, and he gives us an example of this in his principle that "[i]t is wrong to take someone's property without his consent." (p. 24) The mere application of the moral issue involved, and the reintroduction of measurements, is apparently sufficient to determine how wrong a given act of thievery is—no need to go through the processes of reduction and integration, in other words, no need for a proof of one's conclusions.

(Please see Bennett Karp's "Reintroducing the Measurements: An Old Fallacy with a New Name" for a complete analysis of the problems with "reintroducing the measurements.")

Next, Kelley discusses "interpreting motives." On this rare occasion, I agree with Kelley: the majority of our understandings of people's motives are hypotheses, they are contextual conclusions based on the evidence available, including the given person's known character and actions. But some of our estimates of people's motives become certainties, cases such as intensive personal knowledge of the individual being investigated, and clear-cut cases of devotion towards—or complete rejection of—moral principles. Catching someone in an outright lie, discovering a friend's hypocrisy, finding out about a person's parasitical behaviors, they are all instances of proofs of violations of moral principles. In some cases, it can be difficult to know a person's motives, or to accurately identify the consequences of an action, but the eventual decision regarding them rests on our evaluations of the easier cases—of motives integrated with and corresponding to consequences—along with the relevant facts of the case. In such difficult cases, until one can reach a certain moral judgment, one gives the person's motives, and the person, the moral benefit of the doubt.

After this, he discusses his ideas on inferring a character trait, and finally judging the person. Like his sections on evaluating actions and interpreting motives, the examples he gives in these two sections present difficulties to the person giving his moral judgment, cases that can only be addressed by reference to what Objectivism actually has to say on moral judgment, on which Kelley is silent. In presenting these four sections, these "types" of moral judgment, Kelley claims that objectivity requires asking a number of questions relating to moral judgment: We must ask whether the actions are good or bad with life as our standard. What other motives can explain a given persons' rational or irrational behavior? Is this person's character that of an honest man? When is it valid to generalize about a person's essence, his character? How do we judge a person as a whole? Since Kelley has declared that Objectivism technically has no developed answer to these kind of questions, he's left on his own, and by his own statement, he doesn't provide an answer, either. By splitting them up into types of judgment, he doesn't integrate motives and consequences of actions, motives and consequences into character traits, and character traits into the whole person. And by ignoring what the philosophy actually has to say, he of course has to depart from it, in very fundamental and derivative ways.

Conclusion

The topic of moral judgment is very complicated, and takes years of study to understand at any great depth. This applies to Objectivism's view as any other. But once you do understand it, confronting the issues raised by Kelley and Peikoff becomes a relatively easier task than learning the philosophy's actual position, and practically impossible without such an understanding. Or at least this was my experience as a budding student of Objectivism, as I attempted to wade into the issues of the split mere months after discovering the philosophy through Atlas Shrugged. Hopefully, my essay has helped somewhat in that needed understanding.

Reference Works

Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Character.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Evasion.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Irrationality.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Justice.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Kant, Immanuel.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Morality.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Moral Judgment.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Psychologizing.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Rationality.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Reason.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Responsibility/Obligation.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Standard of Value.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Trader Principle.
Ayn Rand Lexicon entry: Whims/Whim-worship.

Berliner, Michael S., ed. Letters of Ayn Rand. New York: Penguin, 1995.

Harriman, David, ed. Journals of Ayn Rand. New York: Penguin, 1997.

Hsieh, Diana. "David Kelley's Mind-Body Dichotomy in Moral Judgment." http://www.dianahsieh.com/blog/2006/03/david-kelleys-mind-body-dichotomy-in.html Accessed March 23, 2010.
Hsieh, Diana. "David Kelley Versus Ayn Rand on Kant." http://www.dianahsieh.com/blog/2006/02/david-kelley-versus-ayn-rand-on-kant.html Accessed March 25, 2010.

Karp, Bennett. "Reintroducing the Measurements: An Old Fallacy with a New Name." http://www.lyceum.dk/karp.html Accessed April 03, 2010.

Kelley, David. 'A Question of Sanction." March 1989. http://www.objectivistliving.com/forums/index.php?showtopic=722 Accessed March 27, 2010.
Kelley, David, The Contested Legacy of Ayn Rand: Truth and Toleration in Objectivism. 2000 (1990)

Peikoff, Leonard. "Fact & Value." http://www.aynrand.org/site/PageServer?pagename=objectivism_fv Accessed March 20, 2010.
Peikoff, Leonard, Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn Rand, New York: Meridian, 1993 (1991).

Rand, Ayn. For the New Intellectual. New York: Signet, 1963.
Rand, Ayn. Philosophy: Who Needs It. New York: Signet, 1984.
Rand, Ayn. The Virtue of Selfishness: A New Concept of Egoism. New York: Signet, 1964.
Rand, Ayn. The Voice of Reason: Essays in Objectivist Thought. Edited by Leonard Peikoff. New York: Meridian, 1990.

Smith, Tara. Ayn Rand's Normative Ethics: the Virtuous Egoist. Cambridge UP, 2006.
Smith, Tara. Viable Values: A Study of Life as the Root and Reward of Morality. Lanham: Rowman & Littlefield, 2000.

Closed vs. Open Part 1: Introduction, and the Issues

Introduction

The dispute between the Objectivists who've sided with Leonard Peikoff and the Ayn Rand Institute (ARI), and those who've sided with David Kelley and The Atlas Society (TAS), is a philosophical war: a series of ideological battles. Since 1989, boundaries have been drawn, and sides have been taken. Short articles, philosophical essays, critical replies, and even books have written in regard to it; I strongly believe my comments in the essays to come won't be the last. And like any war, it's had dire consequences for the parties involved. Or to phrase it as Pain would, a character from the fictional anime/manga Naruto: “War brings pain and injury and death to both sides.” (Naruto, issue 429, page 2) While I'm pretty sure no one's died from this conflict, spiritual pains and injuries have certainly been inflicted, and will be for years to come. Friends and family have already become estranged or even bitter enemies; people have left organizations, quit attending philosophical meetings, and canceled speakers for lecture events; others have given up the philosophy altogether.

The Issues in Dispute

The issues involved are very technical and varied, concerning issues in epistemology and ethics. The two camps differ on five specific issues, but also differ in meaningful ways within these issues, as we'll see. The issues were encapsulated in the table of contents of David Kelley's book The Contested Legacy of Ayn Rand: Truth & Toleration in Objectivism (CLAR): moral judgment, sanction, error and evil, toleration, and Objectivism itself.

(1) What is the nature of moral judgment, and how should it be applied?
(2) What is it to morally “sanction” something, and can (or should) we avoid doing so at all?
(3) Can ideas be “evil,” and what is the scope of honest error, and of dishonest ideas?
(4) What is the proper way to understand tolerance; what kind of people should we tolerate, and does tolerance as presented contradict the Objectivist notion of justice?
(5) Is Objectivism open or closed? What does this imply about the movement?

Conclusions and Comments

Based on what I've read, I don't believe there's a peaceable resolution to this conflict, just as there hasn't been these last 20 years. Peikoff and Kelley have declared that the other contradicts fundamental aspects of Objectivism, particularly in regards to “objectivity,” and by implication anyone else who agrees with either. Both groups think the other is detrimental to the movement, and prefers the other to simply drop out; Peikoff says this explicitly, while Kelley implies this on page 17 of CLAR's “Introduction.” (He calls Peikoff's approach to the movement “tribalism” and says that we need to get over it in order to progress.)

I stated in an earlier series of essays that I was a “closed system” advocate. Since I think this is the easiest of the issues to discuss, I will comment on it in part 2.

As for polemics: I'm more interested in presenting the views of the two positions, for clarity and to avoid misrepresentation. But if possible, I will critique any statements I find to be untrue, so as to give my perspective on these issues.

Comments would be appreciated.

Part 2: The History of the Dispute, and the Closed and Open Systems

A Brief History in the Second-Generation Objectivist Movement

Early in 1989, Peter Schwartz published "On Sanctioning the Sanctioners" in The Intellectual Activist, a short essay critical of supporters of the libertarian movement, and of those who either engage in, or support, the smearing of Ayn Rand. The main message of the article was that we should not sanction—approve of, endorse—that which (or those whom) we regard as evil, with particular focus on those who support groups like the two mentioned: we should not “sanction the sanctioners.” One of the targets of the article was Objectivist writer and lecturer David Kelley, who had spoken at a few libertarian events and had declined to speak out against a critical Rand biography by Barbara Branden called The Passion of Ayn Rand. Kelley replied back with "A Question of Sanction," (AQoS) thus briefly revealing his views of moral judgment, his cost-benefit methodology, and his vision of what Objectivism and the movement could be (and, to him, should be). Especially important for my current essay is Kelley's proclamation that Objectivism is not a “closed system,” but can be changed by our consideration and incorporation of new ideas from other viewpoints, it is “open” to such integrations and revisions—though Kelley doesn't elaborate on this point until his next work.

Prerequisites for Understanding Bacon's Induction Part 2: Scholastic Natural Philosophy

Bacon can and should be read within different contexts, but the one most fundamental for understanding the Novum Organum as Bacon meant it to be understood is the Aristotelian. (Regula Socratis, p. 212)

Prerequisites for Understanding Bacon's Induction Part 1: Natural Magic

Introduction

In 2006, John McCaskey stated in his dissertation that Bacon's view of induction could not be fully understood without acknowledging the Aristotelian background from which it arises. I'll discuss that in Part 2; for now, I want to discuss the natural magic tradition that Bacon uses for his own purposes. Since Bacon doesn't address any particular magicians in his criticism, neither will I, but I will discuss his general criticism of the practice of magic.

Bacon on the "Helps" of Induction

Introduction: Some Context

In the 17th Century, Francis Bacon wrote a two-book work, the Novum Organum (New Instrument). Its aims were extraordinarily vast, covering both theoretical and practical goals. Bacon proposed a new epistemology, a new way to reach knowledge, to form concepts or notions, and to know the true causes of natural events—induction, as Bacon proposed it, would be the "new instrument" which would bring us to a greater understanding of things. Practically, induction, properly carried out, would lead to a full control of nature by mankind, and thus to a general improvement of our condition in the world.

His theory of induction is a bit technical, to say the least. To fully understand it, one would need to know a little bit about the general aims of the natural magic tradition (such as alchemy), a great deal of Aristotle's philosophy, particularly its metaphysics, physics, and epistemology (especially the treatises on logic collectively known as the "Organon"), and the Scholastic philosophy which revamped Aristotle's.

Instead of discussing all that, I'll save it all for another time, and focus now on nine things that Bacon said are helps in our ability to properly inductively reason.