Thinking is a beautiful thing. From Ayn Rand's address to the 1974 West Point class:
You have no choice about the necessity to integrate your observations, your experiences, your knowledge into abstract ideas, i.e., into principles. Your only choice is whether these principles are true or false, whether they represent your conscious, rational conviction--or a grab-bag of notions snatched at random, whose sources, validity, context and consequences you do not know, notions which, more often than not, you would drop like a hot potato if you knew.Of course, it is not truly necessary for persons to integrate all of this into a coherent, rational philosophy. Some people appear to have taken pieces of rational worldviews and mishmashed them in with superstition and folklore, and others (postmodernists) abandon rationalism altogether.
But the principles you accept (consciously or subconsciously) may clash with or contradict one another; they, too, have to be integrated. What integrates them? Philosophy. A philosophic system is an integrated view of existence. As a human being, you have no choice about the fact that you need a philosophy. Your only choice is whether you define your philosophy by a conscious, rational, disciplined process of thought and scrupulously logical deliberation--or let your subconscious accumulate a junk heap of unwarranted conclusions, false generalizations, undefined contradictions, undigested slogans, unidentified wishes, doubts and fears, thrown together by chance, but integrated by your subconscious into a kind of mongrel philosophy and fused into a single, solid weight: self-doubt, like a ball and chain in the place where your mind's wings should have grown.Most people do not develop a philosophy in the vein of Descartes -- carefully and from the bottom up. Most people adopt from others what feels right and true, and modern Sophists are able to persuade masses of persons into adopting incomprehensible premises as their foundational "truths".
You might say, as many people do, that it is not easy always to act on abstract principles. No, it is not easy. But how much harder is it, to have to act on them without knowing what they are?Rand seems willing to grant to people something which I cannot -- that they act while thinking, or think before acting. I find no strong evidence that humans behave as rational animals even a fraction of the time.
Your subconscious is like a computer...Who programs it? Your conscious mind...one way or the other, your computer gives you print-outs, daily and hourly, in the form of emotions--which are lightning-like estimates of the things around you, calculated according to your values. If you programmed your computer by conscious thinking, you know the nature of your values and emotions. If you didn't, you don't.John Loftus has written an interesting article on "control beliefs" as it relates to the interpretation of religion and religious evidence by believers versus unbelievers; or what we could call our presuppositions, in which he challenges the notion that we have the ability to free ourselves of biases and see past our weaknesses in order to objectively "program" our conscious minds. The major point he makes is that the fewer presuppositions, or "control beliefs," that we hold, the less likely we are to be wrong about any given one of them.
Many people, particularly today, claim that man cannot live by logic alone, that there's the emotional element of his nature to consider, and that they rely on the guidance of their emotions...The joke is on him--and on them: man's values and emotions are determined by his fundamental view of life. The ultimate programmer of his subconscious is philosophy--the science which, according to the emotionalists, is impotent to affect or penetrate the murky mysteries of their feelings...You have probably heard the computer operators' eloquent term "gigo"--which means: "Garbage in, garbage out." The same formula applies to the relationship between a man's thinking and his emotions.Here we have to get into what Rand means by "his fundamental view of life" -- is this not particularly circular? If I value faith, do I become a believer (thus subscribing to some theistic worldview), or if I am a believer, do I value faith? Where do we begin? How many people even try to figure out what their assumptions are, much the less challenge and question them?
A man who is run by emotions is like a man who is run by a computer whose print-outs he cannot read. He does not know whether its programming is true or false, right or wrong, whether it's set to lead him to success or destruction, whether it serves his goals or those of some evil, unknowable power. He is blind on two fronts: blind to the world around him and to his own inner world, unable to grasp reality or his own motives, and he is in chronic terror of both. Emotions are not tools of cognition. The men who are not interested in philosophy need it most urgently: they are most helplessly in its power.But what Rand ignores is that philosophy can be used as a tool to prop up what men want to believe. Nietzsche showed us that. It is a choice as to how far one develops a philosophy -- it can go so far as to render us nearly nihilistic. If we seriously probe the premises of every position, say for instance in meta-ethics, we will find ourselves much more epistemically skeptical than some people can handle. Therefore, most persons only develop (or adopt from others) enough philosophy to convince themselves that they are rational and "committed to the truth". But how many of us are? How many of us are willing to follow evidence and reason, should it lead us to no hopeful conclusion? What if reason does cannibalize itself, as Nietzsche and others implied?
The men who are not interested in philosophy absorb its principles from the cultural atmosphere around them--from schools, colleges, books, magazines, newspapers, movies, television, etc. Who sets the tone of a culture? A small handful of men: the philosophers. Others follow their lead, either by conviction or by default. For some two hundred years, under the influence of Immanuel Kant, the dominant trend of philosophy has been directed to a single goal: the destruction of man's mind, of his confidence in the power of reason. Today, we are seeing the climax of that trend.And today, we might say that we are in the "post-postmodern" movement -- many philosophers have strongly argued against the premises of postmodernism (pomo), and have had the time to carefully deconstruct existentialism, Heidegger (probably on of the figures in philosophy with whom Rand identified this sort of negative trend), and some of the previously nebulous arguments of pomo's that science is but "another mythic narrative", aka the Counter-Enlightenment. I would say that the tides have turned, in large part thanks to a commitment to Rationalism, to flesh out the claims of nihilism and pomo over the past decades. Basically, if we cannot sustain rationalism, then pomo itself is self-refuted -- how can a coherent proposition be made: there is no rationalism? It is self-refuting and self-defeating, just like, "there are no truths." (if that description of reality is itself true, then the statement itself must be false, if the statement is false, then it tells us nothing of truth)
When men abandon reason, they find not only that their emotions cannot guide them, but that they can experience no emotions save one: terror. The spread of drug addiction among young people brought up on today's intellectual fashions, demonstrates the unbearable inner state of men who are deprived of their means of cognition and who seek escape from reality--from the terror of their impotence to deal with existence. Observe these young people's dread of independence and their frantic desire to "belong," to attach themselves to some group, clique or gang. Most of them have never heard of philosophy, but they sense that they need some fundamental answers to questions they dare not ask--and they hope that the tribe will tell them how to live. They are ready to be taken over by any witch doctor, guru, or dictator. One of the most dangerous things a man can do is to surrender his moral autonomy to others: like the astronaut in my story, he does not know whether they are human, even though they walk on two feet.Rand almost seems comically naive. Every generation has viewed their youth as on a destructive path, whether towards immorality or irrationality or both. I would say that in today's culture, one of the few unique things we have today is access to so much knowledge and information that some persons are paralyzed by it [one of the other things that sets apart our current era from others is the explosion of scientific understanding of our universe]. Knowing what to believe, and who to believe, adrift in a sea of arguments and voices can be overwhelming. But that does not mean that we must not believe, else we be wrong, only that we must focus our energies on narrow slices of the big philosophy pie. Few persons that I know go to original sources in philosophy, preferring summaries and reviews of topics and questions in philosophy. There is just too much to read and absorb, and too few days to do it.
Now you may ask: If philosophy can be that evil, why should one study it? Particularly, why should one study the philosophical theories which are blatantly false, make no sense, and bear no relation to real life?And it is for those reasons that I continue to study the Bible, theology, and think about God. I do not claim, as Paul wrote in Phil. 3, "to have apprehended...". I have not arrived at some "self-enlightenment". I somewhat doubt that such a final state can exist, for that would mean it would be nearly impossible to self-doubt or critically analyze the experience. My view of personal enlightenment is more a process and progress in which we analyze and skeptically critique everything. But unlike the pomo, I find no reason to abandon rationalism, as I know nowhere else to be, no other way to live, and no other way to think. I choose to value reason, and build my worldview upon it, and I have seen the efficacy of this played out as personal success and happiness, not despair and hopelessness. In that sense, you might say I pragmatically cling to rationalism.
My answer is: In self-protection--and in defense of truth, justice, freedom, and any value you ever held or may ever hold.
Some may frame a question about what motive an atheist has in arguing with theists. I do not believe; they do. I think they are wrong, but I think there is no real consequence for their wrongness (in the sense that their faith won't "hurt" them or me). Why do I continue, then, to spend so much time reading, debating, and trying to understand philosophies to which I do not subscribe, and hold to be irrational? Primarily, because their faith affects me. The politics and policies of our current administration have been clearly infused with religion and its lobbying power and money. Secondarily, I do so in defense of my mind, my values, my desire for truth. I skeptically analyze arguments for and against God, and I continue to consider them for their validity and strengths.
There are many things over which I find myself disagreeing with Ayn Rand, but on this, we agree -- philosophy is more than necessary, it is inevitable: the only choice you have is whether you will swallow someone else's premises like a jagged little pill, or whether you will question them, and yourself, and everything.
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