Editor’s Note: This article is written by the brilliant, amazing, and selfless Marina Tsipenyuk ^[1].

Those who have ever valued liberty for its own sake believed that to be free to choose, and not to be chosen for, is an unalienable ingredient in what makes human beings human. ~Isaiah Berlin

Though I generally procrastinate when it comes to reading long fictions, last summer, and due to a twentieth century Russian literature class that I have taken this Fall, I have been inundated with countless philosophies.

I was astounded by so many of the recent novels that I have read, ranging from Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead ^[2] and Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita ^[3], to pieces in the style of Socialist Realism and those opposing it. It was in this context, the context set particularly by The Fountainhead, that I quite suddenly came to discover the countless contradictions surrounding social philosophies.

The problem is not vested in finding the ultimate philosophical answer to how everything works. It is, however, the question of “how should I live to optimize my experience of life“?, a question that is not only relevant but entirely subject to our beliefs about ourselves.

This is something we may wonder from time to time along with the notions of love, interconnection, and social responsibility. And it is no wonder that such questions are juxtaposed because it is so difficult for us to separate ourselves from our circumstances.

For this reason, rules that we establish for ourselves may come with contradictions. For instance, if you proclaim to be a utilitarian, then ideally, you will save two people from a burning building rather than one. In practice, supposing that you have the power to save either two people who are unconnected to you or your  child, I would argue that you would save your child, regardless of your position on utilitarianism.

So although I like utilitarianism in theory, if I were to be asked which philosophy would be the most suitable for me and for others, it would be that of the rational egoist, the individualist achiever who is thwarted only by his own rational understanding of the world that he inhabits.

Selfishness vs Selflessness

“That’s the trouble with victims – they don’t even know they’re victims, which is as it should be, but it does become monotonous and take half the fun away. You’re such a rare treat – a victim who can appreciate the artistry of its own execution…” Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

There is nothing wrong with being selfish, in the respect that I will further explain. If we are to examine all of our actions, we will see how selfish they really are, even if we hope to receive no praise or glory for them at all, and even if we end up feeling victimized.

The state of feeling victimized is, itself, a selfish feeling. When you feel victimized, you separate yourself from the world with the excuse that another, or others are the cause of this separation. When you feel victimized you experience selfishness that is rooted in selflessness, perhaps the most dis-empowering feeling that a human being can expose himself to. Selflessness, in this respect, is the relocation of the responsibility of the outcome of your fate upon another person, a product of a person’s giving up his or her “self”. This happens when we allow another person or group to form our opinions for us mindlessly, when we relinquish our fate to the will of others, and when we settle for what society believes is right above our own best judgment. It is easy to be selfless, and through a person’s attempt to simplify his life by blinding himself to personal reality, that person is still selfish in a way that can hurt him.

This concept is illustrated in The Fountainhead, in which people are faced with the society’s glorification of mediocrity and the extent of effect of the spoken word on people’s beliefs. People within the society do not necessarily value talent, but rather the acknowledgment that comes from shameless conformation to the whims of the chosen arbiters of opinion. The society is geared toward “selflessness”, not only in refusing the pleasure of true art and form, but in refusing a personal opinion and a self-motivated goal.

It is, therefore, hardly a wonder that every attempt at socialism is an attempt to oust the individual out of existence. It is an unnatural way to keep people under control, and for that reason, Soviet authors (who only know this notion too well) employ commentaries within their works to serve as extreme facets of the ultimate vision. Andrei Platonov, in The Foundation Pit, for instance, writes how even groups of horses collectivized their hay. In Envy, Yuri Olesha characterizes the new, advanced man, as one who lives for the society, and not for himself, a machine devoid of unnecessary emotions. These are the ultimate forms of selflessness, not only because they are acts that further a society, but because they deny people of self.

Selfishness does not necessarily mean denying help, love, or greatness to others because of an extreme love for oneself and unwillingness to share glory, though this too can be selfishness. What I speak of is individuality and responsibility to oneself above all, even if this responsibility to oneself translates into the responsibility to others. This definition works particularly because a selfish person can acknowledge that even acts of love are selfish because they start from a desire to love.

Argument for Individualism

“I often think that he’s the only one of us who’s achieved immortality. I don’t mean in the sense of fame and I don’t mean that he won’t die some day. But he’s living it. I think he is what the conception really means. You know how people long to be eternal. But they die with every day that passes. When you meet them, they’re not what you met last. In any given hour, they kill some part of themselves. They change, they deny, they contradict–and they call it growth. At the end there’s nothing left, nothing unrevered or unbetrayed; as if there had never been any entity, only a succession of adjectives fading in and out on an unformed mass. How do they expect a permanence which they have never held for a single moment? But Howard–one can imagine him existing forever.”~ Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

This was Peter Keating, a mediocrity who thrived as a leech on the perceptions of others, talking about Howard Roark, a talented individualist who’s work had the intrinsic value of the art of a master. In the above quote, Peter recognizes that the liberty with which Roark works assures his immortality. Unlike Keating, whose talent was a manifestation of the whims of others, Roark lived for himself and his work was timeless. He allowed no one to tell him what to do or how to do it, and he lived with his principles, neither attacking nor desiring to be a part of society.

This is to say that being an individualist is very difficult, and those who choose the path may suffer tremendous criticism at the hands of others. People may not understand their reasoning and their zeal, just as people did not understand why Roark refused to take certain commissions as an architect. At the same time, individualists are free because they take responsibility for their own lives and they stop at nothing to do what is right by their own standards. This is selfish, but it is also liberating.

There may be millions of people out there who took the path of someone else, who blinded themselves to clear signals, and who immersed themselves in life’s little nuances and steered themselves away from their dreams. These people may be living in the world today, though they may already be dead by way of spirit.

What does this mean for us?

“Do not, under any circumstances, belittle a work of fiction by trying to turn it into a carbon copy of real life; what we search for in fiction is not so much reality but the epiphany of truth.”
— Azar Nafisi ^[4], Reading Lolita in Tehran

Where do we fit in? The novel, sadly, is far from the only place in which we see people relinquishing rights they have over themselves to others who do not seek and will not nurture the responsibility precisely because they too are merely worrying about looking good and not looking bad. Millions of people, at best, victimize themselves in their situations, and at worst, forge completely unfulfilling goals and live unfulfilling lives because of their own fear of themselves. It is in these cases that we may need to stop and ask ourselves where we are being selfless and why we are doing so. Why should we allow ourselves to live the cookie cutter versions of what we may perceive acceptable instead of the great lives that we can potentially be living?

I now call on you and ask you to tell us in which cases you believe we should be selfish? What are the implications?

Thank you to Marina Tsipenyuk ^[1], for writing this great article!

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