Eddie

Agreed. But your comments imply that “existence” is equivalent to “the world”. The world in this instance is the material world, since you have contrasted it with perception, ie consciousness. And consciousness is also an existent, so is therefore included under the concept of existence. As a concept, “existence” is undifferentiated and makes no claim about the types of things that exist, in which case it cannot claim primacy for one type of thing over another.

Depending on what you mean by “conscious process”, the infant’s “sensory chaos” surely qualifies as an existent, or series of existents. Let’s take the sense of sound. When the infant hears a sound, the sound will be a specific sound from a specific source, at a certain pitch and loudness. That is, it will have identity. Regardless of whether the infant undergoes a conscious process of identifying the sound or its source, it will experience the sound as something existing, ie as an existent. Otherwise, you would have to argue that it is possible to have an experience that lacks sensory content. You have agreed that it is misleading to speak of the primacy of existence over identity. I contend that in the context of the Objectivist primary axioms it is also misleading to speak of the primacy of existence over consciousness. If existence includes consciousness, it is not obvious that existence could have primacy over itself. In this regard, it’s interesting that there is no primary axiom for the material world. If “existence” were equivalent to “the material world”, one could claim that existence has primacy over consciousness, since the material world would be existence less consciousness. Rand does seem to use the term existence in this way when she speaks of the “primacy of existence”. But the primary axiom means “all existing things”, not “the material world”. In other words, in the case of existence in relation to identity, Rand uses two terms for the same concept. However, in the case of existence in relation to consciousness, she uses the one term, “existence”, for two concepts: “all existing things” and “the material world”.

This is not clear to me. If, at the stage of sensory chaos, if such exists, the infant grasps that “something exists”, he would seem to be grasping the concept of identity, since everything that exists, exists as something. It does not seem possible that the infant could experience existence without experiencing specific existents. My understanding would seem to be confirmed by: 1. Existence is identity; that is existence is identical to identity; 2. The referents of existence are the same as the referents of identity: all existing things. 3. A concept means all its referents. In that case, the concepts existence and identity are in fact the same concept, and the only difference is the labelling. It is not therefore clear that existence has primacy over identity. In addition, since existence subsumes all existing things, including consciousness, it’s also not clear that existence has primacy over consciousness.

In common usage, the word ‘selfish’ is wholly pejorative. It is a term that is used to condemn others. It is very seldom used in a neutral, technical sense, and to my knowledge is never used as a term of praise. Gathering evidence for this common usage would be a time-consuming business, but I have no doubt my claims would be vindicated. In the meantime, a list of synonyms might he helpful in providing the range of meanings commonly associated with the term ‘selfish’. Webster’s Thesaurus says thus: “illiberal, narrow, self-centred, self-seeking, mercenary, stingy, ungenerous, greedy, mean, miserly”. Most of the attributes denoted by these words are regarded as undesirable and not worthy of emulation. That said, the meanings of words do change over time, and it may be possible to persuade others that selfish should undergo a 180 degree turn. I just don’t think it’s very likely. Eddie

Thanks for the vote of confidence, but we should also remember AisA’s contribution. I think your last point is very important, that the ability to convey greater detail and meaning in fewer words is the hallmark of a great writer. As for whether “looked as if they were the fury of the wind made visible” is a description rather than a simile, I take your point, although I think it’s a rather fine one. I agree that technically, a simile is a type of metaphor. What I had in mind with the above passage is that Rand is drawing a likeness between the sweeping of the branches and the “fury” of the wind. But wind is not literally furious, so this passage seems to be more a simile that a description. But I don’t want to belabour the point, since it’s a minor one. And if Rand had been a more skilful writer, she would have come up with a less clumsy construction. Eddie

I don’t recall suggesting that the passage should read like anything. But now that you’ve taken on an editing role, what you suggest is a definite improvement, although you could include a similar précis of the other thought about “the fury of the wind made visible.” The problem here is that “made visible” is a mild, passively constructed phrase. That’s fine in some contexts, but not when teamed with “fury”. A furious wind doesn’t quietly make itself visible; it erupts into one’s senses. And then there’s the problem of the vanishing – the branches are said to be both vanishing and visible. So I’m not sure how one could reconcile these two factors, but now that we’re on an editing kick, we could apply it to the whole passage: “Francisco looked out at the darkening plain. The fire of the mills was dying down. A faint tinge of red touched the edge of the earth, just enough to outline the scraps of clouds ripped by the storm. The wind howled. Branches swept and vanished.” Not Nobel stuff, but a sight crisper. As for the use of similes, I made no judgement on them, since I have no problem with them. My comment was a correction of your misunderstanding, when you said: “Why is it okay for your author to say ‘something looks like something else’ , i.e. why is it okay for your author to use a metaphor…” Now, of course, when one says that “something looks like something else” one is not using a metaphor, one is using a simile. My correction wasn’t a judgement on the use of similes. Eddie

As I say, my aim is to talk about the quality off the writing. Let’s check out the passage in question. “Dim shapes kept sweeping through space and vanishing, shapes which were branches, but looked as if they were the fury of the wind made visible.” The construction “kept sweeping…vanishing” is stylistically weak, especially when compared with the more active “swept”. If Rand is trying to convey the urgency of a storm, she’s going about it in a very relaxed way. She also tells us these shapes are sweeping through “space”, a superfluous and unremarkable fact. But Rand needs “space” to go with “sweeping”. Then we have a repetition of those formless “shapes”, which we only now learn are branches. This delay dulls the image, but Rand obliviously meanders on with “but looked as if they were the…” In effect, Rand is diluting the impact of her writing by spreading her meaning and imagery over too many words. As for “something looks like something else”, that’s a simile, not a metaphor. My author doesn’t say that something looks like something else. He says something is something else: “a round full-bodied moon – a vivid confirmation of victory”. By comparison, Rand’s “…but looked as if they were…” is wordy and flaccid. While “my” writer is actually showing us something, Rand is still warming up. And of course my views are my opinion. I‘ve never pretended otherwise. More importantly, you haven’t attempted to show why Rand’s passage demonstrates skillful writing. Eddie

That’s fine. It’s not to everybody’s taste. I’m not entirely sold on this author myself, but he can write well, and so act as a point of comparison. In regard to the storm metaphor in Atlas Shrugged, metaphors don’t have to have single meanings – that’s what makes them powerful literary tools. As for your other points, in general you’re talking about the appropriateness of the metaphor, whereas I’m talking about the quality of the writing, as requested by the original poster. In order to assess writing quality, you need to analyse its parts – that is, its use of words – as I have done. Eddie

It’s not a matter of either metaphor or description, but both. Rand is using a visual metaphor, just not very well, because her description relies heavily on telling rather than showing. In answer to your question, I agree with (1). In the second passage, the moon is a metaphor for the hero’s state of mind, and it’s an active and visual metaphor: “…the moon emerged from behind the angular black twigs, a round full-bodied moon…”. The metaphor carries the meaning, without losing its visual impact. Rand does OK with her “…scraps of clouds ripped…”, which is visual enough, if somewhat passive, but then she really drops the ball by over-dosing on the adjectives, while her other imagery is opaque. Also, “…scraps of clouds ripped…” does not convey the metaphor, which is why Rand has to add something about a storm. Whereas the other writer’s metaphor is the brief but opulent “round full-bodied moon”. Also compare “dim shapes” with “black foliage”. The latter is more concrete, and therefore more sharply visual, which adds substance to the metaphor, while also helping to illustrate the meaning, that of the moon being ensnared by something sinister. Also compare verbs: 1. “looked”, “was”, “dying down”, “was…left”, “outline”, “ripped”, “sweeping”, “vanishing”, “were”, “looked as if”, “were”, “made.” 2. “stood”, “looked”, “was”, “disengaging”, “emerged”, “left”, “stepped”, “lay”. Rand is heavy on superfluous words – two “was’s” and two “weres” against the second writer’s one “was”; too many of these sorts of words reveal a writer who is struggling to put her vision on paper. The second writer’s verbs are also more active than Rand’s – and there are fewer of them in a passage that is slightly longer. So again, Rand’s writing doesn’t bear comparison with at least one other 20th century writer. Eddie

Rand can be a competent writer, especially – as mentioned -- of dialogue. But she can also be terribly clunky. I guess it’s obvious, but good writing is a matter of using words that most effectively convey one’s meaning. To show this, one could compare one writer’s expressions with another’s. Below are two pieces of fiction writing: 1. “Francisco looked silently out at the darkness. The fire of the mills was dying down. There was only a faint tinge of red left on the edge of the earth, just enough to outline the scraps of clouds ripped by the tortured battle of the storm in the sky. Dim shapes kept sweeping through space and vanishing, shapes which were branches, but looked as if they were the fury of the wind made visible.” 2. And: “On the eve of his departure Luzhin stood on the tiny balcony of his room in his long nightshirt and looked at the moon, which was tremblingly disengaging itself from some black foliage….. But the moon emerged from behind the angular black twigs, a round full-bodied moon – a vivid confirmation of victory – and when finally Luzhin left the balcony and stepped back into his room, there on the floor lay an enormous square of moonlight, and in that light – his own shadow.” Both these passages appeal to natural imagery in order to convey their respective themes. In (1), the theme is the collapse of civilisation, in (2), the theme of a man on the threshold of major changes in his life. The question is: which passage provides the more memorable images, which passage best illustrates its themes, and why? In the Rand passage, there are three images: the faint tinge of red, the scraps of clouds and the sweeping branches. If she had made use of these images to convey her theme, to show rather than tell, the passage may have had some visual force. But she is not a skilled enough writer to make effective use these images. For example, “There was only a faint tinge of red” is a plodding and fuzzy way to introduce an image, because Rand clearly didn’t – or couldn’t – think of a way to show this in a more convincingly dramatic way. So she tells us about this faint tinge of red, rather than showing it to us. Which means that when she wants to express something strongly – a mighty storm perhaps -- she resorts to the purple prose of “ripped by the tortured battle of the storm in the sky”. This doesn’t show us anything. It merely tells us that there was this storm, and it was really, really bad. The second passage tells of foreboding and/or promise. The hero is about to experience two life-changing events, and he has mixed feelings about the future, which are shown via homely but visually dramatic touches. In the way that the storm acts as a metaphor for Rand’s scene, the moon here acts as a symbol of the hero’s feeling about his destiny. He feels trapped – “tremblingly disengaging” – but while he’s standing on the balcony he considers his situation, and in the concluding paragraph he feels confident about his future, forcefully conveyed through “vivid confirmation” and visualised in the “enormous square of moonlight”. The second passage also shows a skilled use of visual touches. Where Rand says that something looks like something else -- “but looked as if they were the fury of the wind”, the other writer describes what something actually looks like – “angular black twigs”. He is also sparing but effective in the placement of adjectives – the “tiny” balcony”, “long” nightshirt”, “round, full-bodied” moon. These constitute small domestic strokes, in contrast to Rand’s Wagnerian habit of piling description upon description. . I think this brief analysis shows that while Rand has some skills as a writer, they are insufficient to place her in the top ranks of writers. Eddie

As I understand it, A is A in Objectivist parlance expresses the concept of identity, and a concept ultimately refers to or means all its referents in reality. In the case of “identity”, that means all tables, chairs, trees, mountains etc. The validity of the concept is also justified by “reducing” it to the observation of specific things, or existents. In that case, “A is A” ultimately refers to each and every existing thing, in which case it seems quite acceptable to say “A is A” can be expressed as “this table is this table”. Eddie

Is the statement “everything that exists” a fact of reality, or is it that all existing things are facts of reality? Previously, you said “Moreover, A is A is not to be "resolved" to "this table is this table"…” So you clearly believe that some facts of reality have nothing to do with A is A. In that case your claim that A is A is justified by reference to all of the facts of reality cannot be the case. Why don’t you present an argument – ie a series of connected statements – that demonstrates your understanding of this subject? Show how A is A is justified by reference to “everything that exists”. Eddie

And what are these facts of reality? They clearly cannot be such facts as: "a thing is itself", or "a thing is neither more nor less than what it is", or "a thing has only the properties which it has, and has none of the properties which it does not have". These are merely synonyms for A is A, and to appeal to these facts would be to beg the question. You also seem to have ruled out appeals to objects, such as “this table”, so I’m not sure which “facts of reality” you have in mind. You may wish to clarify what you mean here. Eddie

Strictly speaking, yes, but I was trying to relate my comments to the way Ayn Rand uses the term axiom, which as I understand it is a claim about some fundamental aspect of the world, rather than a proposition within the context of a proof. As for the axiomatic status of “A is A”, or more accurately, A=A, that type of statement can also only be regarded as an axiom within the context of a proof. But Rand doesn’t seem to be using it in that way. She’s using it more in the sense of a self-evident proposition, so in that sense it is a tautology. But I take your point. It would have been more accurate to say that an axiom is a statement for which no proof is required, and that a tautology is true regardless of the meanings of the component terms (assuming the connectives are fixed). Eddie

A proof is an argument consisting of several connected statements leading to a conclusion. Axioms by their nature cannot be proved, but I wouldn’t call A is A an axiom. It’s a tautology, and nor is there any need to “prove” a tautology, since it’s a statement that is justified by reference to the meaning of the component terms. Tautologies are logical rather than factual truths. For A is A, you can substitute anything for A -- table, chair, rainbow, unicorn – and it will always be at least valid, regardless of factual content. Eddie

Sure, we need experience in order to have knowledge, including the meanings of terms. That’s why I said “experience of that world”, as a way of clarifying my use of the term experience in relation to a posteriori knowledge. More importantly, my comment wasn’t just about knowing the meanings of terms. It was primarily about justifying the truth of statements. The two are separate issues. Using the example of “A is A”, we certainly need experience to know the term “A”. But just knowing “A” is not sufficient to justify the truth of the statement “A is A”. In order to do that, we must apply our understanding to the relevant terms “A” and “is”. “Is” in this case means “is identical to”, or "the same as", so “A is A” means something like “A is identical with itself”. We don’t need to appeal to experience to justify the truth of that statement. In the case of “the ball will fall to the floor”, just knowing the meaning of the relevant terms is insufficient to justify the truth of the statement. To do that, we need to observe the actions of a real ball. In that case, the statement will be justified by experience. Eddie

“A is A” certainly appears to be an analytic statement that is known or justified a priori. As long as we understand the meanings of the terms involved, there is no need to appeal to experience of the world to justify the truth of the statement. Eddie

I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong end of the stick here Punk. The terms a priori and a posteriori refer to ways of knowing, while analytic and synthetic refer to statements. Thus, “all circles are round” is an analytic statement, in that it’s true by reference to the terms used, and it’s known or justified a priori, that is, independently of experience of the external world. The statement "What can you say a priori will happen when I let go of the ball" is meaningless, since a priori has nothing to do with prediction. The statement "the ball will fall to the floor" is of course a synthetic statement, and its truth is known a posteriori. It’s a synthetic statement because its truth is determined by the way the world works, and it’s known a posteriori because its truth is known or justified by appeal to experience of that world. Where I think you’re going wrong is in assigning a temporal or chronological priority to the term a priori, when the priority is in fact a logical one. Eddie

I’m afraid that’s a contradiction. If the guard did not make a choice, he could hardly have chosen his own death, could he? What’s more, regardless of whether the scene is literal or metaphorical, it needs to be internally consistent. Dagny pulled the trigger. Since she had free will, she could have chosen not to do so. To say that the guard’s death is entirely his own responsibility is to deny that Dagny has responsibility for her own actions. But the passage is all about taking responsibility. If indeed Dagny was responsible for her own actions, one may ask: by what right did she set herself up as judge and executioner? Eddie

But Dagny does debate with the guard, for about a page, before she shoots him. Presumably, Ayn Rand had something in mind when she created this scene. That something seems to be about taking responsibility for making choices. Why otherwise does she make a specific point about the guard wanting “to exist without the responsibility of consciousness”? If Rand didn’t want to make this point, she would have presented the scene differently. Realistically, even the most abject lackey of the state would choose to move aside and save his life. But we’re not talking realism here. Rand decided that her guard was irrational enough to throw away his own life, and that’s the text we have to work with. Eddie

One would have thought so, but I was presenting the passage in the context of Rand’s views about the use of force. I suppose she was trying to make a point about the guard’s irrationality. In normal circumstances, of course the guard would surrender, but the author has him doing otherwise, which seems to undercut the realism of the novel. Eddie

I agree. My post may have been unclear, but I’m not defending Dagny’s actions. I’m not saying she has the moral high ground. Far from it. She is abusing her position to impose an impossible choice on the guard. That’s why I say the passage undermines Rand’s argument that we should take responsibility for making choices. In this case, the choice is bogus, and also contradictory. Dagny demands that the guard should ignore all authority and make his own decision. But in that case, he should also ignore her authority, and if he does that, the basis for her demand is negated – she is just somebody standing before him holding a gun. And since she is holding a gun on him, she is interceding between his mind and reality. Yet Dagny is demanding that the guard act according to reality. In that context, the guard cannot make a rational choice. Eddie

Moose, you’ve identified the relevant principle that the author uses to justify Dagny’s action: she shoots the guard because he is indecisive and refuses to make a choice. When Dagny confronts the guard, she identifies herself and says she has Mr Thompson’s permission to enter the building. The guard has orders from Dr Ferris to bar the door. There is no issue of self-defence, since the guard tells Dagny that he cannot shoot at her, because she is an emissary from Mr Thompson. Dagny tells the guard he has to choose which order he will disobey. When he will not make a choice, she shoots the man “who wanted to exist without the responsibility of consciousness.” The point Rand is making is that we should take responsibility for making choices, and that some of these choices are a matter of life and death. Fair enough. Unfortunately, in presenting the issue the way she does, Rand undermines her argument. How so? Well, in order that Dagny can present the guard with a choice, she must remind him of who she is, and with whom she appears to be allied. Otherwise, she could just be some random trespasser, and the guard would be duty-bound by the requirements of his job to bar her entry. But in revealing her identity to the guard, she sets herself up as a rival authority to Dr Ferris. She also tells the guard he cannot know for sure whether she has orders from Thompson, nor that Thompson and Ferris may have a secret agreement agreed to let her enter the building. So in addition to her greater authority, Dagny has more information – the guard cannot know whether or not she is bluffing – and she is also willing to use force. In other words, Dagny and the guard are not on a level playing field. Dagny occupies the high ground in terms of her authority, superior information and willingness to use force, but she insists that the guard take part in a charade of “choice”. I think this is why readers find this passage disturbing. Our sympathies are supposed to stay firmly with Dagny, but because she presents the guard – and the reader -- with a Hobson’s choice, our empathy shifts from Dagny to the guard. As a result, his killing “feels” wrong, and an analysis of the scene shows why this feeling is justified. Eddie

In the previous post you said: “You can replace "baby" with any noun, you can replace "weighs" with any verb applicable to the noun and "kg" with any applicable measurement.” Are you saying these are measurements? If so, I think that’s mistaken. “Baby” is an organism, “weighs” is an attribute, “kg” is a unit of measurement. None of them are specific measurements. Here is what Ayn Rand says about measurement omission in ITOE. “If a child considers a match, a pencil and a stick, he observes that length is the attribute they have in common, but their specific lengths differ. The difference is one of measurement. In order to form the concept "length " the child's mind retains the attribute and omits its particular measurements.” The measurements apply to the common attribute. You could very easily settle this matter of forming the concept "big" by taking three big things, words will do, and: 1) Identifying the common attribute; 2) Identifying the measurements. Then you should have your concept. Eddie

I can’t provide you with a method for forming this concept, or any other concept for that matter, because I don’t think there is any specific method for forming concepts. Concepts are groupings of general ideas. If I knew nothing about the concept of godless, I would “form” it in the usual way, by reading or otherwise learning about the general ideas that are labeled by the term. In the course of that learning process, I would discover that the term refers to an absence of a supreme being, and that some people deny the existence of such a being. I would also learn that “god-fearing” people regard the godless as impious and wicked. What I wouldn’t find is an essential attribute, nor would I perform measurement omission. But the information I learned would be quite sufficient for me to claim that I had the concept “godless”. Eddie