Fountainhead - Atlas Shrugged Connection

[psychoanaleesis]

This is rather trivial so I'm posting it here. The man who introduced me to Rand's work, my godfather, seems to have told me when we met about a year back (this happened after I just finished reading AS) that, there is a/are character(s) that "survived" The Fountainhead and apparently did a "cross-over" to AS albeit with a different name. If I also remember correctly, it's not Roark - Galt...

Hmm, I'm very curious as to who could this character(s) be. I suppose I could ask him again, but it seems that either he himself forgot (because when I asked on another occasion, I think he ignored me/didn't hear -as if it was a secret to precious to just give out) or that memory was false (dream). So, I'd like to hear from the experts here first if there was ever a Fountainhead-Atlas Shrugged Character cross-over and if there is, would you please tell me?

Thanks in advance.

PS

The power went out while I was trying to edit this. I don't mind if I have to discover it myself but it would be awesome to know if this would be a worthwhile pursuit.

This is all very vague and it's like déjà vu.

Edited March 23, 2010 by David Lee

[DavidMcK]

If it isn't Roark to Galt I don't know who else.

[Reidy]

You could say this about Wynand and Stadler. Both were immensely talented and contemptuous of regular folk, and in both cases this combination led them to cut a fatal deal (literally in Stadler's case and, in the movie, Wynand's).

(Curous about your godfather. Does this mean you both left the church subsequently?)

[psychoanaleesis]

You could say this about Wynand and Stadler. Both were immensely talented and contemptuous of regular folk, and in both cases this combination led them to cut a fatal deal (literally in Stadler's case and, in the movie, Wynand's).

(Curous about your godfather. Does this mean you both left the church subsequently?)

I see... Now that I think about it, it might be the shrewdness of Dominique - Francisco. I've always fancied the two as the perfect couple.

No, he has this standing theory about a Supreme Being fitting Objectivism while moi am only a nominal catholic (atheist in practice). Never fully believed a damn thing those priests and fanatics say anyway. Nonetheless, most of my friends identify themselves there. Also, it does not hurt to learn the nature of your philosophical enemies.

Called him "godfather" (exclusively here) for lack of a better term and technically, he is. I could say he's my uncle, but can you suggest a better way to call someone who's a 2nd degree cousin of your mother in one word?

Edited March 23, 2010 by David Lee

[Peter]

David Lee wrote:

So, I'd like to hear from the "experts" here first if there was ever a Fountainhead-Atlas Shrugged Character cross-over and if there is, would you please tell me?

End quote

I can’t. Though you could argue that Howard Roark and John Galt, or Howard Roark and Hank Reardon (with similar initials) are depictions of somewhat ideal men. And one cannot forget Francisco who is my favorite. I think he is the most filled out character.

Ragnar, Francisco, and Howard all commit moral but violent (but jeez, not anarchistic) acts.

Rand’s female protagonists show greater mental maturity in Dagny than in Dominique (who in my opinion was royally screwed up.)

Perhaps some of the “lesser characters” are similar?

At the end is a great letter from someone who I wish would write a comparative article on a lot of subjects.

Semper cogitans fidele,

Peter Taylor

From: "Philip Coates" <philcoates@worldnet.att.net>

To: "owl" <objectivism@wetheliving.com>

Subject: OWL: Roark vs. Francisco

Date: Thu, 17 Oct 2002 11:55:29 -0700

Subject: Roark vs. Francisco

(This interpretation is based upon recollection from the novels. Both characters are complex and multifaceted, so I'm open to people pointing to specific events or evidence in the novel which make it clear if I've overlooked something major.)

Howard Roark and Francisco d'Anconia are very different personality types and they tend to approach the world differently in some major ways. The later creation of the final novel, Francisco, is polished, urbane, sophisticated. He is experienced and at ease around people of many different types and levels. Roark tends to be self-sufficient, self-contained, a loner, does not need people, does not care what people think, does not even give a second's thought to an adversary such as Toohey, is sometimes baffled by people (the principle behind the Dean). He's laconic, a man of few words with people. He doesn't feel a great need to communicate, elaborate, explain in any way. His social needs and genuine friends are few to non-existent (at least through most of the book till he meets Wynand relatively late) and he's perfectly happy to go off and live in silent isolation for years at a time.

Francisco comes across, on balance and over a lifespan, as more sensitive to people, their natures, needs, psychologies. He was raised around them and deals with them smoothly and elegantly, even the ones he has little respect for. He projects a degree of enjoyment in and zest for conversation and interaction and debate. This would not be true for Howard Roark. One would have the sense that he would feel it takes vital time away from his work. Francisco had good friends early on, from childhood first in Dagny and Eddie, and later in college with Galt and Ragnar. And he develops a friendship that lasts and is successful by the end of the book with Rearden (as opposed to Roark's friendship with Wynand, which ends in a tragic way.)

In stylizing Roark in order to emphasize the importance of independence, first-handedness, productive work, and a driving central purpose, Ayn Rand created a character for whom people were not merely secondary in a minor way but secondary in a major way...to the extent of being largely excluded and dismissed. But in Francisco, she created a character in whom a wide range of many personality and character traits are more balanced. No one virtue is stressed.

A poll was taken among Objectivists recently in which the preference for Roark or Francisco among Rand's heroes was fairly evenly split.

Roark is a superb role model for teenagers hungry to define themselves as separate, autonomous, first-hand beings and for others later in life who still need to see an image of rejection of second-handedness, of proud and confident and serene independence. Roark helps many people break free in their own lives. From religion, from tradition, from dependence. And they can't help but love him for this and view him and "The Fountainhead" as a major shaft of sunlight which fell into their lives.

But I think, after the breaking free is reached, in the long years that follow in one's life, one needs to take the next step.

Hold Francisco as your next role model. Erected on the firm and unquestioned foundation of one's own independence, once first-handedness has been achieved and is solidly centered, one must next move forward and grasp the importance of people, of society and community and gregariousness on the one end and intimacy and openness on the other, of emotional and psychological sensitivity and empathy.

A good example of this last is after Dagny has had a very bad day dealing with looters and expropriators and is quite alone and alienated, Francisco, who knows what has just transpired and grasps what impact it would have on her, is in the lobby of her building waiting for her. He was sensitive enough to know she'd need emotional support. And he's there to provide it.

It's my sense and recollection from the novels (I hope to write or speak on this further . . . and would be interested in any supporting or contrary evidence) that Francisco is a much more well-rounded character than Roark. He has a better balance of virtues and of personality traits.

[in part, the displaying of this aspect of Francisco may be due to the fact that he is given equals to interact with from the very beginning of the novel--in the long flashback to his two friends from a happy childhood--onward through the entire book. One doesn't sense in Roark a happy childhood and close childhood friends or even close playmates. While Roark does show sensitivity toward Mallory, Keating, Wynand... I'd have to

reread the book to see what gave me this idea and if it's accurate, it's a subtle point, but I recall it as coming across a bit more as patience or tolerance toward an inferior in the case of Keating or someone with less strength in the other two cases, whereas Francisco projects toward Rearden and Dagny the respect and empathy of dealing with his full equals with no trace of condescension or a hand extended downward at any moment.]

And so, for all these reasons, Francisco d'Anconia is Ayn Rand's most admirable and fully developed male hero.

(Galt is not sketched out in as great a detail in the novel-he's less concrete and more abstract. Dagny would require a separate discussion -- she's important and a good role model in a number of ways, but I'm only trying to deal with the men in this mini-essay).

In a sense, Francisco is more fully integrated than Roark in terms of being in sync with reality...all of reality, including the aspects of society, community, friendship, and range of emotions and attitudes.

And, if you're going to try to be like one of the two heroes in a full sense, to put his picture up on your mental wall, he's the one that people should normally select as role model --- in the most fully developed, adult, well-rounded sense.

--Philip Coates

[DavidMcK]

I agree whole-heartedly, and Roark and Galt never even seemed like real people to me (maybe Roark just barely..like an accountant or something). The word that sums up all the characteristics you describe is 'self-esteem' Francisco is an authentically self-esteeming person as are Dagny and Henry Rearden. Atlas is to some extent an exploration of the different ways, forms and shapes of self-esteem...in a woman it is different (but equal) to a man, in a more stoic character and in a lighter happier character. In a way it is about the psychology of self-esteem. Good post!

Edited March 23, 2010 by DavidMcK

[Dragonfly]

Why is everyone calling him Reardon? It is Rearden!

[anthony]

Peter,

I enjoy these posts of yours from the archives; there are some true gems in them.

This one from Philip Coates is terrific.

Tony

(btw, a poster on Atlantis, named Gregory Wharton, made a memorable quote - do you know him?)

[9thdoctor]

there is a/are character(s) that "survived" The Fountainhead and apparently did a "cross-over" to AS albeit with a different name.

I’ve never heard of this. A hero character? The “surviving” heros are Roark, Mallory, Dominique and Mike. I don’t think AS has an architect or a sculptor, the positive females are Dagny, the actress (Kay Gonda? I forget her name) and the fishwife (AR’s Hitchcock moment). Maybe Mike became the valley’s truck driver? Beats me. How about the Monadnock cyclist? He grew up to stop the motor of the world. I like that.

Open it up to include the bad guys and the choice should be easier. One of the silly playwrites in Toohey’s circle? There was Rand’s best satirical writing methinks.

[psychoanaleesis]

It's fun and good getting responses like what you guys are doing. Even after the disclaimers I wrote. BTW, I like this too Doc, "How about the Monadnock cyclist? He grew up to stop the motor of the world. I like that." Peter, I enjoyed your post too if for a role model, yes Francisco is the most plausible to "come to life". I also see some connection between him and that client of Roark who commissioned the Aquitania building.(Did I spell it right?) I used to have a bad image of middle-men. After I read the principle behind it, I corrected my self.

It's relieving to be taken seriously (without the fear of getting heckled) when the question I present could be from a dream or the beginning of a serious psychiatric disorder. As you may know, people around you try to calm you down and assure that you're not when you say, "I think I'm going crazy." and when it gets worse and you start denying that you are crazy then they send you to an institution.

Kidding aside, no explicit word from Rand about an issue like this one? If none, then it's okay. It won't be surprising that most, if not all of them to have similar characteristics that could cross-over since they were written by the same person who sought to practice consistency in her philosophy if anything else.

Thanks guys.

[Peter]

Tony wrote:

(btw, a poster on Atlantis, named Gregory Wharton, made a memorable quote - do you know him?)

end quote

Not personally. I know he is an architect, a father, and six foot five. And really smart. Here is a complilation I put together.

Semper cogitans fidele,

Peter

From: Gregory Wharton <gregoryw@demetriou.net>

To: objectivism@wetheliving.com

Subject: OWL: RE: Axiomatic Volition

Date: Tue, 15 Feb 2000 23:25:44 -0700 (MST)

Peter Voss constructs his very own straw man with the following:

> Volition is not axiomatic, unless so by definition: eg. high-level, abstract knowledge requires volition (the freedom to form valid concepts); we have such knowledge, therefore we must have volition. I reject this view. Volition and abstract thinking _are_ tied, but it is not volition that gives rise to the ability to think rationally (conceptually), but rather it is our ability to think conceptually (to form & deal with abstract concepts) that gives rise to volition.

Now, the Objectivist position on volition is as follows:

1. We have a conceptual faculty (the rational faculty).

2. One primary characteristic of the conceptual faculty is the capacity for abstraction through "measurement omission."

3. Inherent in this capacity for abstraction is the potential for error

(fallibility)--a potential not present without the "leaving out" of

information involved in abstraction.

4. This potential for error, as an emergent property, frees the human mind from strict necessitated causation--i.e. allows false concepts to be the causal motivation behind some human action, therefore allowing non-existents to potentially become causally relevant!.

5. In order for some concept to become a causal motivation in the action of a conceptual consciousness, some choice must be made as to which of a

multitude of equally valid potentials (even the false ones!) must be the one on which to act. The mind is a meta-programming system. It sets its own content. This content affects the further progress and content of the system. By this process, choices are made. This is volition.

In other words: because we possess the faculty of reason, we are volitional. Volition is inherent to reason. Further, exhibition of the capacity for volition is prima facie evidence of the possession the faculty of reason (the conceptual faculty).

So, when Peter Voss criticizes Objectivism for making the argument that

reason comes from volition, he is attacking a straw man. Objectivism holds no such position. Quite the contrary, in fact.

A further word to all "critics" of volition:

In continuing to argue your case against volition, you achieve nothing more than continuing support of your opposition (pro-volition). The more the materialist determinists argue their case, the more they make my own case for me. According to the laws of contradiction and excluded middle (themselves both axioms as well), only one of our positions can be true. Either volition exists or it doesn't.

If volition does not exist, then both of our arguments must be causally

necessitated, and not just chosen. If this is the case, then they are both necessarily valid. Thus, if volition is false, volition must evidently be both true AND false, since there are firm believers and exponents of both positions. How can a non-existent (a falsity) become causally relevant without volitional choice? This is a question for which the determinists can have no answer which does not at least implicitly rely on the validity of volition.

To a certain extent, Objectivists owe a debt of gratitude to the materialist determinists, religious fanatics, and irrational people of all stripes. The fact that they believe the things they do, and regularly act on them, is prima facie evidence that we are right about volition.

If the determinists really believed what they preach, they would have no

choice but to either shut up entirely (make no statements pro or con), or

accept that we are both right, despite the fact that this necessitates a

self-contradiction. This is why volition is axiomatic--not because we say so arbitrarily, but because we face the stark fact that any alternative is necessarily self-contradictory.

Volition is axiomatic because it is an inescapable and undeniable attribute of existence--an existence in which beings with a conceptual faculty can exist (and plainly do). When we say that proof presupposes volition, we are saying that it is fallibility (which originates in the rational faculty and to which volition is inherent) which gives rise to the necessity for proof. Without fallibility (and thus volition), the notion of "proof" is meaningless at best.

To argue against volition is to argue in favor of universal infallibility

for human cognition. To argue against volition is to argue against the

necessity for ANY sort of normative judgment. To argue against volition is to argue against proof per se. To argue against volition is to argue

against reason per se.

The opponents of volition can continue to argue these things if they wish

to. After all, it is their volitional desire to do so for some reason.

However, they cannot reasonably expect to substantiate their positions

thereby, since they are manifestly self-contradictory.

~g

From: "J. Gregory Wharton" <ragnar@axiomatic.net>

To: <atlantis@wetheliving.com>

Subject: RE: ATL: from knives to guns to bombs to WoMD

Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2001 07:30:30 -0800

You know, just when I'm about to go and unsubscribe ATL again, somebody comes up with another interesting topic. To wit, Joe Duarte wrote:

> 1. The human right to defend oneself is absolute, eternal, and essential to our survival. No other rights can exist if we cannot defend ourselves against force and predation. We can't speak freely, practice a religion (like we would want to anyway!), or hold property without a clear license to answer initiatory force with defensive force.

No argument. This is very nearly tautological, and is essential to the objectivist ethics.

> 2. In a free society we defer the use of defensive force to the government, placing it under objective control, employing the due process of objective law to mete it.

More precisely, members of a rights-protecting society delegate some (not all, and not exclusively) of their prerogatives of the use of defensive force to an organization which (at least nominally) is supposed to ensure justice and look out for everyone's rights. Typically, we call such organizations "governments," but there are those here who might quibble with that, so I prefer to be more generally definitive.

> 3. Because emergency situations can arise, wherein our lives or property may be in jeopardy, we retain the right of _immediate_ self-defense. This means defending oneself from predation as that predation is ocurring, not after the fact (vigilantism).

Certainly. One important part of the delegation of the use of defensive force is that, should the government fail for some reason or be unable to act immediately to defend you, you still retain your full right to defend yourself and can exercise that right at will (given a certain set of circumstances). It's YOUR right, not the government's. They can act on your behalf, but that does not prejudice your right to act on your own behalf. If someone attacks you, you are well within your rights to defend yourself with force in kind.

> 4. So we have, by default, the right to own any and all arms that can reasonably be used for self-defense in the context of our time. The principle is constant - the technological details may change.

The ownership is derivative of the right to USE whatever means you choose to defend yourself, so long as the means are appropriate to the situation. In order to employ those means, it is often necessary that they be owned by you, or at least in your current possession, though this again is not necessarily the case.

Basically, I think we can establish that in any case where you could be construed to have the right to use some sort of force to defend yourself, then you can by extension be construed to have the right to own/possess the means to exercise that force. This is an important, and general principle.

> 5. Rocket launchers, grenades, nuclear bombs cannot be reasonably used for self-defense in the context of our time. This context is informed by the nature of the crimes we can expect to face.

I disagree strongly here, and part of our dispute relates to a matter of simple strategy and practical effectiveness. As I've mentioned before, power is simply the ability to get others to follow your will. In the case of defending oneself against the initiation of force, the best defense is to neutralize a threat before it has even fully manifested itself.

Obviously it is not legitimate to initiate force yourself on the premise that you are "neutralizing" a potential threat which might manifest in the future. Rather, what I mean by this is two-fold:

1. Deterrence: "Peace through strength," is more than just the motto of a certain branch of the US government. It is a truism of strategy. The individual who is strong and manifestly able to use that strength to defend

himself, deters transgressions against him pre-emptively but peacefully.

2. Simultaneous Counterattack (or, the Stop Hit): In martial arts, a high level of awareness and skill in fighting technique often results in an ability to execute a counterattack at nearly the exact instant an opponent begins an attack. In the two particular arts I study, western-style fencing and Kendo, it can often be very difficult to tell which of two combatants initiated an attack and which counterattacked. The instant a combatant begins to execute an attack, the opponent will often have already begun the counterattack. This sometimes gives the impression that the counter attacker is actually the attacker--unless you know what to look for.

In the case of deterrence, the existence of an ability and/or great strength is enough to deter the initiator from attacking in the first place. In the case of the Simultaneous Counterattack, a high level of alertness allows the defender to respond as soon as the first attacking action begins.

Note that neither of these two cases involves a pre-emptive use of force, which would in itself be an initiation, and thus immoral. Rather, through deterrence, we pre-emptively suppress the initiation of force by simple ~possession~ of the ability to defend ourselves well. We do not need to ~use~ this ability pre-emptively, we merely need to ~possess~ it and make sure potential bad guys ~know~ we possess it.

Through a high level of alertness and skill in counterattack, we are able to respond instantly and overwhelmingly to an initiation as soon as it is initiated. With proper alertness and response speed, the counterattack should simultaneously coincide with the attack itself. Even though to the untrained observer, it might appear that the counterattack was pre-emptive, and not responsive, the Simultaneous Counterattack is triggered by definite action toward the initiation of force, not a mere potential. This is an important distinction, allows us to morally defend ourselves with swift and overwhelming counterstrikes when we are threatened.

Where does this leave us with respect to military weapons and weapons of mass destruction (WoMD--which, despite arguments to the contrary, are not actually military weapons, but strategic ones: for instance, nukes have practically no military value, but lots of strategic value)?

We'll start with the tough one: WoMD.

Because of their enormous deterrence value, WoMD have defense value for individuals versus massive, organized opposition. If an individual is in possession of a 1-kiloton tactical nuke (a device which could easily fit inside a briefcase), then that individual has the ~ability~ to do significant damage to lots of people and lots of property. Public possession of such an ability would be a significant deterrent to initiation of force by large, well-armed, well-organized groups who might seek to initiate force against that individual. Indeed, even whole societies and governments would be required by prudence to treat such individuals with a great deal of deference and respect, and also to watch them like hawks, because:

A person in possession of a WoMD who shows any action toward using that weapon in an initiation of force is a tremendous danger to large numbers of individuals (to say the least). The defensive posture against such persons must be one of hyper-alertness--unwavering and total vigilance--so that a counterattack can be swift, neutralizing and devastating as soon as the smallest initiative action is taken with such a weapon.

So, I think there is a legitimate basis for arguing that individuals have the right to possess weapons of mass destruction (although I still see some avenues of attack for arguing against this position). At the same time, any person who possesses such a weapon would become the target of such complete and intrusive monitoring by any person who would potentially be threatened by that WoMD (which would be a whole lot of people), and would be subject to overwhelming counterattack at the smallest initiative action associated with that WoMD, that the cost of ownership would far outweigh the benefit for all but a select few--typically governments and other powerful organizations with broad strategic interests.

[Note also, as an extension of this line of reasoning that possession of WoMD in secret (i.e. not as public knowledge) diminishes the usefulness of such devices in inverse proportion to the number of people who know about them. Since one of the main reasons for possessing WoMD for defensive purposes is large-scale deterrence, secrecy could be construed under many circumstances to be initiative.]

Taking this down a notch, the same argument applies, in lesser degree to the more destructive sorts of military hardware. Possession of a fuel-air bomb (a "conventional nuke," as it were) would have many of the same advantages and drawbacks as possession of chemical weapons and/or an actual nuke.

Possession of a battle tank would have a certain, still large but more limited, deterrence value. A tank would also give its possessor certain defensive advantages against certain sorts of well-armed aggressors.

A fully automatic firearm similarly imparts deterrence power and strong defensive ability within a certain context.

And so on, down the line to kitchen knives, chopsticks and your bare hands.

Note that this reasoning also applies upward to weapons of power beyond any of our technology's current capacities. A planet-busting bomb or a high-output continuous-beam X-ray laser would be weapons capable of far more destructive power than mere nukes or nerve gas. Yet, under certain circumstances, individual possession of such weapons for defensive reasons could easily be justified, remembering that the drawbacks would be proportionally great.

> 6. As the above-mentioned weapons have specific purposes not congruent with personal self-defense, but congruent with war, mass killings, and terrorism, personal ownership of them can be justly barred in a free society. Call this the principle of pre-emptive retaliatory force. A similar application of this principle would be laws against drunk driving (but not arbitrarily low blood-alcohol regs) wherein a drunk person drives on the roadways and threatens to kill or maim others. He hasn't actually struck anyone _yet_, but the nature of his drunken driving poses a clear danger and he should be forcibly removed from the road and charged with reckless endangerment. Another, macro, example would be a nation like Israel launching a pre-emptive strike against the Arab powers when they observed that an invasion was imminent (The Six-Day War).

Joe appears to be making a distinction here between individuals defending themselves with small-scale weapons versus large-scale weapons (i.e. a distinction by degree). He then makes an explicit call for the sanctioned initiation of force against any person possessing such large-scale weapons on the mere fact of possession (taking possession itself to be an initiation of force in some manner).

First, this distinction he is drawing is arbitrary. There is no "bright line" between these various weapons. Four hundred years ago, a semi-automatic handgun with a high-capacity magazine would have been considered a weapon of mass destruction. Now such things are considered basic personal-defense weapons by a great many people. Where does the line get drawn, logically? I think any line we try to draw as a matter of degree in this issue is going to be fundamentally arbitrary.

Even if we leave out the substantial grey area and focus on the well-defined cases (say, kitchen knives versus nukes), Joe's argument still provides no justification for his positions. Joe states categorically that he thinks

nukes cannot possibly be considered defensive weapons because of their capacity for mass killing (i.e. their great destructive power). My argument above and the history of the cold war suggest otherwise. If WoMD can be used defensively and legitimately by governments (which they can and have), then by extension they can also be used the same way by individuals. Governments do not have any rights or powers which do not ultimately derive from individuals. Also, Dennis May's points on the wide availability of WoMD are well-taken and relevant here.

We arrest a drunk driver not because he ~might~ initiate force, but because he already ~has~. Operating a dangerous weapon (in this case a car) with greatly diminished faculties of reason and self-control is an act of preliminary initiation of force. We are well within our rights to proportionately defend ourselves against such actions. Likewise, if someone pulls a gun and starts waving it around in a crowd, this too is a preliminary act of initiation of force--an overt threat--and we can respond legitimately with defensive force.

These are fundamentally disanalagous to simple weapon ownership. Owning a nuclear weapon, even carrying it around on your person, cannot in itself be construed to be an initiation of force, and we therefore cannot legitimately use force against that person for that simple fact alone. We can, however, watch them very closely and use defensive force the instant they make an initiative move.

And, as for wars between nations, that is subject for another discussion, and is probably outside the scope of this missive. As it stands, I've made my views clear on that score previously.

ciao,

~g

From: Gregory Wharton <jgw@demetriou.net>

To: "'family@wetheliving.com'" <family@wetheliving.com>

Subject: FAM: Dialogue with a 7-year-old

Date: Wed, 28 Nov 2001 14:18:09 -0800

Thought you folks might be interested in this:

My children both began exhibiting what I would call preliminary critical reasoning skills around the age of three (or late twos). This is the point at which self-awareness and language ability rapidly progress and the

faculty of reason becomes fully "armed."

They do not, however, just instantly become Vulcans at age three. Rather, their potential becomes fully manifest at that time and if it receives strenuous and directed exercise, they will fully develop it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

BTW, on a related side note, below is an interesting conversation I had with my daughter last week (she just turned 7 and is a first-grader): She: Dad, why do we need to have money to buy things in stores? Why don't they just give things away for free?

Me: That's a very good question. And, I bet you already know the answer to it.

She: I don't think I do.

Me: I tell you what, I'll ask you some other questions, and the answers you give me will answer your own question. How does that sound?

She: Okay...

Me: So, if you make something, like that picture you drew this morning, who does it belong to?

She: Me.

Me: Why does it belong to you?

She: Because it has my name on it. Oh. And because I made it.

Me: Why does it belong to you just because you made it?

She: Um...

Me: Were you the one who decided to make it? Were you the one who figured out how to make it? Were you the one who did the work to make it?

She: Yeah! All those things. I did all those things.

Me: That's why it belongs to you. Because of all those things. Now, if it belongs to you, who gets to say what happens to it?

She: Me!

Me: That's right. What if I want it? Can I just come and take it from you?

She: No. It's mine.

Me: What if I still want it?

She: We could trade.

Me: Right. We could trade. If I give you a quarter {gets quarter out of pocket}, will you give me the picture? Would that be a fair trade?

She: Yeah! {runs off and gets the picture}

[exchange takes place--I am now one quarter poorer]

Me: Now, there are lots of people in the world. Every one of us does things and makes things. When people make things, who do they belong to?

She: The people who made them, of course.

Me: Right. And if they want something that they don't have, but someone else made, what do they do?

She: Trade for it.

Me: And what would they trade?

She: Money. Oh. And the stuff that they make.

Me: Mmm Hmm. What do I do at work?

She: You design buildings. You're an architect.

Me: That's right. Do I grow food?

She: No. You're not a farmer.

Me: That's right. I'm not a farmer. The farmer grows the food. How do I get it from him?

She: You trade for it.

Me: I design buildings. That's what I make and what I do. What if the farmer doesn't want me to design a building for him?

She: You pay for it with money, silly.

Me: What if there was no money? What if I want the food, there is no such thing as money, and the farmer doesn't want me to design a building for him?

She: Hmmm... I'm not sure.

Me: What if the farmer wants something else--something that is made by somebody else? Let's say the farmer wants blankets, and my neighbor makes blankets and also wants to build a new house.

She: You could design the house for them. You could get what the farmer wants that way.

Me: By trading with the other person, and then with the farmer?

She: Yes. That way.

Me: That's right. Now think about all the people there are in the world. There are many, many, many people. We all make different things. If there were no money, we could all just trade for the things we want, right?

She: Right.

Me: Would that get confusing? How many eggs is a blanket worth? How many chickens would buy a car?

She: Um... yeah, that would get very confusing.

Me: Would it be simpler if there were one thing that everybody wants and is willing to trade for?

She: Yeah! That would be money!

Me: Right. But, why does everybody want money?

She: Because you can buy anything with it.

Me: But why can you buy anything with money? You can't eat it. It's doesn't make a good blanket. It doesn't make a good roof over your head.

She: Ummm.... I'm not sure.

Me: When people decide to live together and trade together, what do they also need?

She: A house?

Me: Well, sort of. But that's not what I meant. Our family all lives in one place. Do we have rules for our house?

She: Yes.

Me: And those rules are important? Do they help us get along?

She: Most times. Yes. Sometimes we fight over rules, though.

Me: Well, that's just the four of us. There are 300 million people in our country. That's a lot. Do you know how many 300 million is?

She: {eyes wide} That's a lot more than our family.

Me: Yes. It's also a lot more than live in our whole city. Our city is not big enough to hold that many people. Not by a long shot. If that many people decided to live and trade together, would they need rules?

She: {laughing} Yes, they would.

Me: That's right. When that many people decide to live together and trade together, we call that a "society." Societies need rules so that everybody can get along and trade peacefully with each other. The people in a society have to agree on certain things to get along.

She: Just like our family.

Me: Just like our family. That's right. Now, for the people in our society, we all know that it is easier and less confusing to trade for money than for all the various things we each make. Does it make sense for us all to agree to trade for one thing?

She: Yeah. We agree to trade for money. That's why everybody wants money, because you can buy anything with it.

Me: That's right. That's called a "standard of exchange." Do you know what those words mean?

She: Exchange is like trade, right?

Me: Yes. Exchange is like trade. And "standard" means "the same." A standard of exchange is one thing that we all agree to trade for. Money is a standard of exchange. That's why you can buy anything with it. Where does the money our family has come from?

She: You get it at work.

Me: That's right. I go to work and design buildings for people, and I get paid money in trade for my work. That's how people get money in our society: they do work for other people or sell the things they make, then

they get money in trade. What other sorts of rules to societies have?

She: Umm...

Me: Well, if the things you make belong to you, and I try to take them without your permission, should there be a rule against that?

She: Yeah! You would get arrested and go to jail. That would be stealing.

Me: Yes. It would be stealing. And stealing is wrong. That's why we have rules against stealing, both in our house and in our society. So, if you went in to a store and took something without paying for it, what would

happen?

She: I would go to jail. But what if they just give it to me instead of trading? Couldn't they do that?

Me: Yes, they could. If you give somebody a present, is that a trade? Do you get anything in return?

She: I don't think so.

Me: You don't get money. When you give somebody a present, does it make them happy?

She: Yes. I gave Emily a drawing last week, and she really liked it.

Me: Is Emily your friend?

She: You know that, Dad.

Me: I know, but I'm asking you. Is Emily your friend?

She: Yes, she is my friend.

Me: Are your friends people you really like and like to be around?

She: Of course. That's what friends are. They're fun, too.

Me: Yes, friends are fun. If you do something for somebody you like, and it makes them happy, does that make you happy too?

She: It does make me happy.

Me: So, was that a trade? Did you give a present and get happiness in return?

She: I guess I did. I never thought of it that way before.

Me: So, the store owners could decide to give you the things they make and trade for your happiness, right?

She: {skeptical--anticipating fatherly conversational trap} I suppose.

Me: If they did that, all their work would go into making you happy—and the other people who they give things to. What happens when they give all the things they have made away? What do they have left over?

She: Themselves. And my happiness, I guess.

Me: Doesn't your happiness really still belong to you? Can they buy food with your happiness?

She: {laughing} no.

Me: Right. So if they give away all the things they make, which used up all their time and work, and don't trade them for money, they won't be able to buy any food. What happens then?

She: They get very hungry.

Me: Actually, they starve to death, because we all need food to live. I guess that counts as very hungry.

She: {very solemn} So that's why you need money to buy things in stores.

Me: That's why you need money to buy things in stores.

She: {crying} I don't have any money. Nobody ever gives me any.

Me: {giving her a hug} Well, sweetie, it can be very hard for children to get money. You remember how I told you about how trading can include gifts too? Well, I work to make money, and I bring that money home for the whole family to use, since I love all of you very much. That's my trade. But there are ways you can do work and make things to earn money of your own. [discussion of chores and allowances snipped for brevity]

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Now, notice a few things about this conversation:

1. Although my daughter could not generate the complex chain of abstract reasoning necessary to fully understand the importance and inter-relationship of trade, money and property, she did:

A. Understand enough of the issue to ask several very insightful

questions,

B. When prompted by a series of questions, she was able to create

the chain of reasoning to reach the right conclusion without

any difficulty,

C. She really did know the answer already, she just didn't have the

tools to properly express it in logical sequence.

2. As a child of seven (and only just), she was easily able to grasp complex philosophical concepts when they were expressed in terms with which she was familiar. The above conversation covered a whole lot of ground in terms of ethics, politics and economics. She had no trouble following it, and stayed deeply engaged in discussion. Those who might claim that children are incapable of understanding such complex and sophisticated ideas are just plain wrong about that.

3. At the end of our discussion, she has not only shown a strong intellectual grasp of the answer to her question and many of its implications, but has also managed to completely internalize the conclusions to the point where she extrapolates that she has no money, has little prospect of obtaining any (as a 7-year-old), and that this potentially puts her in some jeopardy--prompting an emotional outburst. Not only that, but she immediately grasped the importance of working to earn money, and insisted that we come up with a way in our family for her to trade her work for cash.

4. My son, who is four, was listening carefully to this conversation, and later began asking me all sorts of questions about work and trade, as well as wanting to know what work he could do to earn money. So, even younger children are capable of grasping these complex issues if they are framed in accessible terms.

From: "J. Gregory Wharton" <ragnar@axiomatic.net>

To: <atlantis@wetheliving.com>

Subject: ATL: RE: Infant Rights Theoretically Justified?

Date: Thu, 3 Aug 2000 22:01:30 0700

Jeff Olson has reiterated his assertion that possession of the faculty of reason is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition for the possession of rights. In particular, he has challenged

Obviously, I disagree with this, as (I'm pretty sure) would most Objectivists. I see a strong justification for treating rationality as both a necessary and sufficient condition for the possession of rights. Nor do I think Olson's argument to the contrary carries much weight. At the moment, I'm too busy to engage in a Deep and Meaningful ™ discussion of this issue (besides, my tolerance for intellectual posturing is at a low ebb for the moment and I know the Trolls are thick on the ground as of late), but I'll go ahead and summarize some important points:

1. If we consider rights on a strictly instrumental level, we have to ask ourselves the question what are rights instrumental TOWARDS? If the answer is "my goals and/or purposes," then reason must therefore be a prerequisite for rights possession. Without reason, our goals and purposes cannot constitute a claim of right (freedom from coercion in their pursuit). Some weeks ago ("Respecting Others' Rights" June 25th, 2000) I posted a concise argument which summarizes this important consideration as applied to generalizing rights possession to others. If Jeff is going to dispute the important link between rights possession and rational agency, he's going to have to address that argument in the process (and offer an alternative to it, if he intends to continue upholding rights on a non intrinsicist basis).

2. Regarding the Determinism vs. Volition discussion, the notion of rights is effectively meaningless if we do not possess volition. If determinism is true, then rights, as freedoms to pursue our goals, are possessed by none.

How can "freedom," even instrumentally, have any meaning if we have no choice? Answer: It can't. If you have no choice, then why would you possibly need freedom from coercion to pursue your goals? At that point there is no effective counter argument to the claimant who asserts that he may coerce others, since that coercion must be a deterministic force. None of the advocates of determinism have yet provided a reasonable explanation for their positions on both determinism and rights without resorting to utilitarianism (usually with thin crust of misplaced Darwinism iced over it). At least the Calvinists were consistent about their advocacy. They realized that determinism and rights are fundamentally incompatible and dispensed with rights altogether in favor of divine providence. I can only suppose that the die hard scientist determinists will eventually follow

suit in some secular facsimile thereof.

3. As for the dispute over infant rights between myself, Jimmy Wales and Roger Bissell on the one hand, and William Dwyer and Co. on the other—Jeff Olson's assertion that it is fundamentally irresolvable is not justifiable. To a large degree, the resolvability of our disagreement is founded on our common understanding of the nature of rights: we all acknowledge that reason is very important in some large measure to the possession of rights. At that point, all one has to do is demonstrate a capacity for reason to the satisfaction of all parties to reach agreement. There is still much disagreement on that demonstration for certain parties, but within the parameters of this particular understanding of rights the criteria for agreement are clear and achievable.

Given that, it is not surprising that, although our discussion of infant rights did not reach a consensus, it did reach the next best thing: the major parties all modified there positions in certain way which brought them closer together in understanding. Bill Dwyer adopted a more tentative stance. Roger Bissell modified the nature of his argument with respect to late term fetuses. I became more tentative with respect to my position on rights as applied to late term fetuses.

As more information becomes available about the nature of reason, rationality and infancy, I'm sure we will all further modify our positions until we eventually reach a consensus. That's how it's supposed to work not by intellectual bullying and logical vanquishing of enemies, but by mutually challenging and building up our knowledge together (even if we might for the moment come down on different sides of a fence since we know the fence can be torn down with the right tools).

However, once we abandon our common understanding, and further fail to replace it with another, better common understanding, then we truly have lost all hope of ever resolving the issue to any satisfaction. Jeff Olson has attempted to present us with an alternative, but has not succeeded in demonstrating its superior explanatory power to the extent that it is generally acceptable as true.

Regrettably, that's about all I have time for right now. I will keep an eye out for further posting in this thread, but I want to make it quite clear at the outset that my future silence does not equal either consent or concession. I'm just too busy to spend much time writing email to Atlantis on more than an occasional basis and I'm rather enjoying keeping my big mouth shut for a change.

; )

cheers~g

J. Gregory Wharton, AIA

From: Gregory Wharton <gregoryw@demetriou.net>

To: "'atlantis@wetheliving.com'" <atlantis@wetheliving.com>

Subject: ATL: RE: Evil ideas

Date: Mon, 15 May 2000 17:05:31 -0700

Peter Taylor makes some interesting observations about the thought/action dichotomy which has been introduced into certain circles of objectivist thinking in the last ten years or so. I'm not going to quote his passages, which should be referenced directly in the ATL archives. Also, for clarity's sake, I want to state that I have read the assorted essays published on this issue by Kelley and Peikoff, and think they are both right in essentials, and both wrong in emphases. This is not an "either-or" in the terms in which these two philosophers have framed the argument. Indeed, Peikoff and Kelley seem to mostly agree with one another.

Here's my understanding of this issue:

1. The objectivist position on human action is that it is a direct result of human thought. In other words, what you do is a direct result of what you are thinking. This establishes a definite logical/causal relationship from intent to action and is a direct corollary of the rejection of the mind/body dichotomy. If the mind and body are one, then thought must necessarily be inextricably intertwined with action. To genuinely believe in some idea is to act on that idea, by necessity.

2. Since the objectivist meta-value and meta-ethic establish an absolute standard in reality against which actions are measured for normative significance (good/bad), we can say that some types of actions are universally evil (though they may differ in degree). A good example of this is the initiation of force, which denies mind and therefore denies life (again, as a consequence of the rejection of the mind-body dichotomy). In other words, there is a class of actions (and ideas which lead to actions) which, when considered normatively for the context of human beings in general, are objectively evil for all humans according to the objectivist meta-ethic. When the "to whom" is the set of all human beings, and the "for what" is framed in meta-ethical terms, then we can show a set of actions and ideas which are universally evil for this context.

3.To espouse an idea to others as true is, in itself, an action. If the logical corollary in action of that thought is evil, then the conceptual content of that idea itself can objectively be considered to evil, as noted in point 2 above. Not only that, but then the mere advocacy of that idea, qua action, is itself evil. So, ivory tower Marxist professors really are doing something bad and idle sophistry really can be destructive (and often is).

So, on this basis, we can say with rational certainty that some idea or action is universally evil, in an objective sense. On what basis could we judge that a _person_ is evil?

This is a difficult question, which hinges on an issue of teleology.

It all depends on how the person believing the ideas and acting on them went about coming to their belief and then acting on it.

Evil ideas or actions originate from two fundamental sources: Error and Intent. I have explored this issue somewhat further in an "epistemic truth table" [http://www.axiomatic.net/ragnar/truthtable.htm] in which I explore the relationship between accidental and willful error and the impact of both on the status of knowledge.

Accidental error occurs as a result of either perceptual pathology or lack of knowledge. It is as a result of an accidental error that a person can hold an evil idea or take an evil action and yet we would not be justified in judging him/her to be an evil person. Certainly, particularly with respect to action, the person is still responsible for themselves, but the accidental nature of their error is a mitigating circumstance with respect to judging them individually.

Intentional error (or evasion, as Ayn Rand put it) is another animal entirely. The teleological status of the belief or action is now very different--we have not a failure or inability to know, but rather a refusal to know what would otherwise normally be known.

Commission of intentional errors, particularly as a pattern of behavior rather than an isolated incident, is the defining characteristic necessary to judge a person evil. Not only do we have evil actions or ideas, but we also have the intentional action undertaken to believe and/or act on these ideas, even when their normative status is known. Not just merely the "refusal to see," evasion is the refusal to be good. On that basis, and not solely dependent on some heinous evil action, we can legitimately judge that a person, qua person, is evil.

So, how do we tell the difference between accident and intent? Careful examination of context.

We know that ideas translate into action. It is in this way that we can legitimately deduce what someone is thinking from the evidence of their actions. Clear evidence of evasive thinking can be determined from

examining actions for which there is no reasonable explanation but that evasion was taking place.

Unfortunately, we are only rarely presented with clear-cut evidence of intent over accident. As Napoleon was fond of noting, we should not ascribe to malice that which is adequately explained by incompetence.

Not only that, but in judging the teleological status of another person's thinking and action, we also face the problem that we ourselves are making an accidental error (assuming for the moment that we are above evasion ourselves). Without a reasonable level of objective certainty, there is no justification for judging another _person_ to be evil.

And yet, this does not free us from the epistemic obligation to know what can be known and make our judgment based on that knowledge. At any point in time, we must take the sum of our knowledge and come to some sort of working conclusion to make sense of it all, even if we must understand that such judgments are ultimately corrigible. At any given time, our judgment of the people around us has them as good, evil, or unknown/indeterminate/neutral. That status is refined and expanded as further knowledge of their motivations becomes available, whether through evidence of their actions or their words.

This we must do, because to avoid the process of reaching conclusions based on the evidence at hand would be to commit an evasion in itself, willfully shutting down our conceptual capacities, thus corrupting our own character. The important thing is that the certainty of the conclusion be proportional to the magnitude of the evidence available--a difficult challenge.

As with any judgment, judging the character of another human being involves walking a razor's edge. However, to refuse the necessity of judgment so that the risky walk along that edge could be avoided is to jump squarely off into the abyss of evasion. Unfortunately, as many objectivists as there are who are quick to condemnation, there are as many who are just as quick to avoid judgment.

"Judge and be judged" does not require that we condemn and be condemned, or sanction and be sanctioned. Rather, it requires that we know and be known. That's was Rand's message, even if she herself was not always consistent about practicing it.

~g

From: Gregory Wharton <jgw@demetriou.net>

To: "'objectivism@wetheliving.com'" <objectivism@wetheliving.com>

Subject: OWL: RE: Copyrights and Wrongs - simplification

Date: Thu, 30 Jan 2003 09:19:04 -0800

This discussion of copyright has devolved to the point where it now seems to be a dispute over hagiography (an adoring biography as of a Saint) and minutiae. I'd like to take a quick step back here and refocus on fundamentals.

I agree that the metaphysical status of ideas is at the crux of the issue. One can only claim as property something that is an existent, and then only to the degree that one can lay a valid claim over particular existents. Property rights are specific, not categorical. Can ideas (abstractions, percepts, relationships) be said to exist independently per se? No. To suggest otherwise is an old Platonic error. We treat an idea as a mental entity, following Rand's denotation, but ideas themselves cannot be said to exist independently from specific human minds. You definitely own the contents of your own brain by virtue of your ownership of the physical medium, but it is not reasonable to assert ownership over the contents of anybody else's (and really, who would want to?). To do so is to implicitly advocate a position in which one could declare ownership of another person de facto if not de jure. If I could "own" the contents of your mind in some way, then I can be said to have a legitimate control over your actions by virtue of that ownership.

The products of your labors are yours by right. Your actions, of course, are directed by all that fatty grey stuff in your skull, including all of those clever ideas you may have rattling around in there. In other words, you can lay a legitimate claim of ownership to the original expression of your ideas in some specific physical form, but the ideas themselves cannot be "owned" to the degree that their use and dissemination may be controlled by you once other people share them.

Current US copyright law, in essence, seems to recognize these issues to a large degree. Under copyright, you cannot lay claim to ownership of an idea, only the particular, specific expression of an idea, and only to the degree that said expression is your original work and not derivative of the work of another. In accord with another principle of the law, that of the belligerent claimant, your claim of copyright ownership is only legally valid if you register it a priori with the controlling legal authority.

If I were to come up with a really clever and original idea, say that computer hardware should have something called an "operating system" in order to control its functions, there is no morally or legally legitimate way I could possibly lay a claim of ownership of that idea per se. If I go and actually write an operating system, let's call it EDOS, then that is a particular and original expression of the idea. I can and should claim ownership of it. If somebody else writes their own original operating system, Spleenux, I have no legitimate claim against them for infringement of my ownership rights unless they have copied something directly from EDOS, or have added something into Spleenux which is clearly and demonstrably derivative of my original work.

On top of all that, the doctrine of fair use is a recognition that, even with the property rights recognized under copyright, you cannot legitimately lay a claim of control or ownership over the contents of somebody else's head. Similarly, copyright is not a right of perpetual ownership.

Personally, my point of disagreement with things such as the Digital Millennium Copyright Act and its ilk is that legislation such as this blurs these distinctions, treats ideas as if they were real property, and thereby

accepts an implicit line of reasoning which ultimately leads to the initiation of force against the free minds of individuals. That, in my opinion, is unacceptable. Furthermore, I must say that I am rather shocked that objectivists could seriously support the intrinsicist notion that ideas per se may be claimed as property. Nothing in objectivist metaphysics or epistemology supports such a claim.

From: "J. Gregory Wharton" <ragnar@axiomatic.net>

To: <family@wetheliving.com>

Subject: FAM: RE: Dividing Labor in the Household

Date: Sun, 5 Aug 2001 17:48:15 -0700

Luke Setzer brings up an interesting question in two parts.

In the first part, he notes that the legally "collectivized" nature of the family structure is contrary to the important principle of the unity of authority and responsibility in individual action. To a certain extent, I

see his point. At the same time, I also perceive something of a category error here.

Families are not political organizations, but rather social ones. That being said, the family as a social unit provides the core building block of most political systems. For most of human history, political systems have

been grappling with families and how best to treat them.

This may sound a note of dissonance with objectivist notions of individualism in politics, but it acknowledges an inescapable historical fact: where family units are undermined by the political structure, societal

order weakens in proportion. The family is the smallest and most stable element of any self-organizing socio-political order.

It is interesting to note that the more tyrannical a political system is, the more strenuously it works to undermine familial structures and relationships. The Nazis and the Soviets both strove to break the bonds by

which members of families hold themselves together.

This is primarily because the family, as a self-generated, self-organizing social order, represents a direct threat to the loyalty and obeisance any family member might feel toward the state. Given the choice, people will nearly always put family before king and country.

To go off on another relevant historical tangent, one of the reasons that the Roman republic and empire lasted as long as it did was due to the Roman recognition of the importance of family, and the extent to which this was institutionalized in their society.

The Romans believed that families were not simply defined by consanguinity (blood ties), though this was certainly a part of any family structure. Family, to the Romans, was a group of people who bound themselves together in such a way as to directly pledge each other to serving common interests. It was quite common for outsiders to become part of a family unit by being adopted, even though the adoptee might be in middle age and have a family of his or her own. The head of the family unit, the Paterfamilias (father of the families), literally had the dictatorial power of life and death in his own household (though this power was rarely used). The Imperial state, even at the height of its power, dared not trespass against the prerogatives of the Roman familial order. [1]

Because the family is the most fundamental self-organizing unit of social order, there are as many ways in which families are organized as there are families. We can easily argue that the power of a Paterfamilias to deny life at his word violates fundamental individual rights. Physical abuse or other overt acts of violence would also be proscribed on moral grounds. However, beyond simple issues of fundamental individual right, there is no justification for political interference in the order of the family unit, whether to dictate behavior or structure.

In the United States at present, the nuclear family is recognized as deserving of special legal protections and privileges. The ways in which this is put into practice vary widely. In Washington State, where I and my family live, the legal presumption is of unity. In other words, the law considers my wife and myself to be the same person for nearly all legal purposes. Everything I own (with some minor exceptions) is presumed to be hers and vice versa. Either one of us may act on behalf of the other without express permission. The law considers the marriage agreement to effectively be a binding, mutual, unlimited power of attorney for both parties.

There are some good reasons for this, but the main one has to do with the legal recognition of the family as the basic unit of social order. Now, in our society, that recognition is strictly limited to the nuclear family (as embodied by the marriage agreement between one man and one woman), and we could argue whether or not this is just (I argue that it is not--but we'll have to save that for another day)

This obviously opens to door for the potential abuse of that relationship. I could easily enter into agreements which would obligate my wife to responsibilities of which she did not want any part and vice versa. To a certain extent, what the law is saying is this: How we work that out is our own affair and not the concern of the State (this is over-simplified, but it gets the point across).

This is reasonable. The internal organization of our family is none of the State's business. We choose to act as a social unit in a formal way, and our political system recognizes that choice to the extent that nobody's rights are abrogated.

So, that leaves the second part of Luke's question: how do we actually go about organizing ourselves as a family?

My wife occasionally finds herself in conversation with one of the minions of Political Correctness, who inquires as to her "partner" (hoping to avoid such incendiary phrases as "husband" or "lover"). This raises the question: is our relationship really a partnership? (Kate jokes that it's more of Limited Liability Company than a true partnership).

The answer, I think, is "sort of."

Do we share in everything we do in equal parts as befitting an equal partnership in all things? The answer most emphatically is no. We do not.

Do we combine our strengths to offset each others' weaknesses? Do we pool our talents to act more effectively? Do we divide our labor to act more efficiently toward our common goals and purposes? Definitely yes on all counts.

And, of course, we love each other dearly and deeply enjoy each others' company. We also put up with each others' idiosyncrasies and overlook each others' occasional failings thereby.

Our children fit into this relationship as best they can according to what they can do. We don't insist that they do chores in order to tally up work points in a partnership agreement. We do insist that, so long as they are a part of the family, they respect, cherish and help out family members as they can.

We all love each other, and usually act toward common goals. That, in itself, pretty much defines what family is all about.

~g

From: Gregory Wharton <jgw@demetriou.net>

To: objectivism@wetheliving.com

Subject: OWL: The Ship Formerly Known as Theseus'

Date: Mon, 30 Jul 2001 10:13:28 -0700

Ah. The dreaded Ship of Theseus is once again reconstructed as a topic of debate on OWL. Let's see if we can dispatch this maritime conundrum to the depths from which it has arisen.

We all know that existence is composed of subatomic particles. Scientific experiment confirmed this for us long ago to a reasonable degree of certainty. These particles move around a lot, shifting incessantly from one

location to another. They apparently have little regard for such tidy notions as "entity"--at least in the macroscopic sense in which we are used to thinking about such things.

If I walk across the carpet, shuffling my feet, I (like Theseus' ship) shed some of my constituent parts (electrons) and pick up a whole host of new ones. Does this change my identity? Am I no longer myself? When I touch you on the tip of your nose and give you a good shock, am I then making myself a part of you? Is your identity irrevocably changed? Should you go and get yourself a new driver's license?

Were it not for an understanding of the nature of entity and identity in a philosophical sense, the mind would truly boggle at such questions (and, continuing the thread, whose mind would be doing the boggling, eh?--such are the confusions from which midnight dorm-room speculations are born).

In an objective sense, what is identity? How can we rationally say that Theseus' ship is still the same entity when the entirety of its component parts have been replaced piecemeal over the years? How can we say that I am me, even though (over the course of my 32 years of life), my body has already completely regrown its skeleton at least four times? I regrow my skin in entirety every few months (faster if I've had a sunburn). My parts have been updated and replaced every bit as thoroughly as the planks in Theseus' hull.

Rand provided us with a powerful, and deceptively simple, answer to these questions: objective identity arises from the relationships between things, and not the things in themselves.

There is no dichotomy or trichotomy involved in this answer. It is a synthesis.

Rand attacked the two dominant epistemic positions of modern times--intrinsicism and subjectivism--by pointing out that they each failed to take into account how subject and object interrelate. Universal concepts, she noted (following Abelard and the other conceptualists), arise not from our arbitrary imposition of named order, nor from the "essences" of objects in and of themselves. Rather, universal concepts are rooted in reality through relationships of things to one another (and to us in particular), and named according to the importance of certain of those relationships to us and to the fact of the relationships themselves.

A human being is a system of organic molecules interrelated in such a way as to form a macroscopic structure with certain characteristics: conceptual thought, opposable thumbs, tool use, upright posture, pizza cravings, inability to look away from auto accidents.

When a portion of that system no longer serves its function in the system and is replaced by a new component, the relationships which compose the system remain integral. Just because I loan you a few electrons when I rub my feet on the carpet and tap you on the nose does not make either of us any less ourselves.

Though Theseus has replaced every part of his ship over the years, the parts still make a ship. The ship is still Theseus'. The form the new parts take in their interrelationships is virtually identical to the original form. Theseus would reasonably call it the same ship, and objectively, so would we.

If you were to take the cast-off parts and reconstruct a ship from them, it would not be the same ship. The parts were cast off because they no longer served to keep the interrelated system of the Theseus' ship integral to itself. Constructing a new ship out of them would simply result in a new relationship (both internal and external to that system), and would then result in a new identity: "Theseus' Old Ship" or "Theseus' Other, Shoddy and Less Well-built, Ship" or "Theseus' Used Ship, Low Money Down, No Interest Until Christmas, Some Restrictions Apply!"

How about me? Am I the same man I was fifteen or thirty years ago? That depends on how you look at it.

The subatomic particles of which I am composed at this present moment have not been with me since the time I was born. In all likelihood, I presently have few or no component subatomic parts which have been mine since I was in utero. If we were to take the intrinsicist position, adapted through our knowledge of subatomic structures and biochemical reality, we would have to say then that I am no more the same person as the individual who shared my name at some arbitrarily small past point in time as I am you. The intrinsicist physicist must presume that my identity is discontinuous from each moment to fractional moment at the whim of Heisenberg. The subjectivist would probably say something to the effect that I am whoever I feel like I want to be at this particular moment if it brings me emotional fulfillment, and that with each imaginative re-invention of my personality I become a new person expressing a particular will to be.

Subjectivists are prone to saying silly things like that.

As an objectivist, I merely note that the parts which compose me, though they may change from time to time, and have evolved in their relationships to one another over time, still form a system of interrelationships which has the fundamental characteristics of being me. I have grown from 23 inches to 6'-5". I've suffered heartache and loss. I bear the scars of living. But, I am still myself..

Heisenberg may be uncertain about the nature of my component quarks, I may be feeling a little confused about my place in the world, but I am still me, and I know it--objectively.

When the system of interrelationships which composes me irrevocably breaks down and dissipates, for whatever reason, then I will cease to be. My parts may still be around to some extent, stinking up the place, but my identity will have evaporated. "I" will be gone.

For Theseus' ship to objectively cease being the Ship of Theseus, we require more than just the selective, but complete, replacement of its component parts piecemeal over time. The relationships between parts composing that identity must themselves vanish. If Theseus dies, then it is no longer the Ship of Theseus even though we might never have replaced any of its parts. At that point its identity will change: becoming the Ship Formerly Known as Theseus' or some such. If the ship burns to the waterline and sinks, we get the same result (and probably a good-sized insurance claim to boot).

This is power of Rand's metaphysics and epistemology. What is, is. Things are what they are. The identities of complex entities arise from the relationships among things that are. Our co