Full Context Interview with Nathaniel Branden

by Karen Reedstrom
Copyright © 1996, Full Context, reproduced by permission.

The following interview with Nathaniel Branden, conducted by Karen Reedstrom,

appeared in two parts in the September and October issues of Full Context, an Objectivist
newsletter. We are very grateful for their permission to reproduce this interview here. In
the interests of greater clarity, the interview has been slightly edited for publication on
the web.
The name Nathaniel Branden has become synonymous with "the psychology
of self-esteem," a field he began pioneering over thirty years ago. He has
done more, perhaps, than any other theorist to awaken America's
consciousness to the importance of self-esteem to human well-being. His
first major work was The Psychology of Self-Esteem, published in 1969 and
now in its 33rd printing, which was followed by Breaking Free (1970) and The
Disowned Self (1971). In 1980 he published The Psychology of Romantic
Love, followed in 1982 by The Romantic Love Question & Answer Book, co-
authored with his wife Devers. Then, in 1983, he wrote If You Could Hear
What I Cannot Say; in 1984, Honoring the Self; in 1985, To See What I See
and Know what I Know; and, in 1987, How To Raise Your Self-Esteem. In
1989, he published Judgment Day, his memoir of the years of his association
with Ayn Rand. This was followed by The Power of Self-Esteem (1992), The
Six Pillars of Self-Esteem (1994), and Taking Responsibility: Self-Reliance and
the Accountable Life (1996).

Objectivist Movement
Q: You attended the Institute for Objectivist Studies (IOS) Summer Seminar
— David Kelley's organization — this past July. What did you think of it? How
were you received by the participants? What were your impressions of the
people you spoke to?
Branden: I had a marvelous time. I was very impressed by the high
intellectual quality of the presenters. I was also impressed by the caliber of
the students — very bright, very eager, with a lightness and spontaneity one
does not expect to encounter at Objectivist conferences, based on my own
past experience as well as reports I have heard about what goes on at
conferences held by the "orthodox" branch of Objectivism. People were not
uptight. They did not project the nervousness I have seen so much of — the
fear of saying something that might be interpreted as "deviationism."
As to how I was received, from the moment I arrived everyone I encountered
was warm and friendly asking me ten million questions, which of course I
thoroughly enjoyed. When, at the end of my talk, the audience exploded into
a standing ovation, I was a little stunned. There were quite a few tears in the
room. Including mine, my wife's and, unless I am mistaken, David Kelley's. It
was a courageous thing David did in inviting me. I know he took heat for it. I
am glad it all turned out as well as it did.
Q: This was your first address to an "official" Objectivist audience in twenty-
eight years. Can you tell us a little more about what the event meant to you?
Branden: As I said at the start of my talk, I felt like I was coming home to an
important part of myself. Following the break with Rand, I needed to distance
myself from the world of Objectivism, to get some fresh perspective on it all,
uncontaminated by my personal hurt over the way I had been treated and by
the incredible amount of vicious nonsense I was hearing about myself — and
above all, by the loss of my vision of who Ayn Rand was. Over the years I
was able to see with increasing clarity what my differences with Rand were.
But I also gained a renewed appreciation for her genius, for how much she
had contributed. Objectivism represents my intellectual roots. I wanted to
acknowledge that fact and honor it. That was why I accepted David's
invitation.
Q: A little later we'll ask you about those differences with Rand, but first —
Does Kelley's approach to Objectivism bode well for the future of
Objectivism?
Branden: Yes. Because David is not a "true believer." He admires Ayn Rand,
he has embraced her philosophy, but he has retained his ability to think and
make independent judgments. His Institute for Objectivist Studies, while
resting on Objectivist fundamentals, offers space for debate, further
exploration. He does not regard Objectivism as a closed and finished system.
He is willing to see where the gaps are, where more work needs to be done.
Above all, what I admire him for is that he has created an environment in
which people can have honest disagreements while treating one another
civilly, without the need to make anyone a villain. This means: an
environment that nurtures independent thought and welcomes new ideas.
Q: Do you think that IOS has been effective in maneuvering into a position of
philosophical leadership within the broader family of libertarian or market
liberal think-tanks such as CATO, the Reason Foundation, and FEE?
Branden: I really don't know. Has IOS been "maneuvering" with that end in
mind? I would think it has established itself as a valuable resource for other
free-market think-tanks. David is out to show that on any number of issues
and fronts, the Objectivist perspective has something important to offer. I
would say he is succeeding.
Q: What can it do to improve its position?
Branden: The three most important things to do are: Publish books and
journal articles; publish books and journal articles; and publish books and
journal articles. It is essential that Objectivism force its way into the
academic world. You know what the resistance is so you know what courage
and perseverance will be needed. Of course none of what I am saying need
be confined to IOS. It is disappointing to me to consider how little has been
written about Objectivism or about its application to various disciplines.
Rand's thinking was so rich, so fertile, there's plenty to keep a lot of people
busy for a long time.
Q: Why do you think that is? Do you think that a lot of Objectivists have a
tendency to be just passive people who like to just talk about their opinions
but don't want to put the work into it and do the research?
Branden: Someone said, by way of explanation, "Ayn Rand is a hard act to
follow." Well, if that is the way some people feel, all I can say is, too bad.
That's a self-esteem problem, isn't it? But I think another factor inhibiting
some people is fear of getting it wrong, fear of being labeled a "deviationist."
Rand, unfortunately, contributed to that fear, as do her orthodox followers,
like Peikoff. Also, there's so much hostility against her, that I suspect some
people are simply fearful of taking on the battle — especially in academia.
Q: Do you think it's relevant that Rand herself was not a scholar?
Branden: True, she wasn't a scholar, and that made it harder for academics
to grasp what she was up to. However, I was discussing with the philosopher
John Hospers recently that what is astonishing about her is the incredible
number of times she was right in her historical analysis in light of the fact
that she was not a scholar. We both agreed that if you don't get exId over
trivia and small issues and go to the heart of what she was trying to say, she
was right far more often than she was wrong. Did she sometimes overstate
her case? Yes. Could she be guilty of over-simplification? Yeah. Those are the
occupational hazards of a polemicist, and she was a polemicist. I went back
to re-read her work to see how it strikes me today. And the thing that
impresses me is the depth of her thinking, and the incredible amount of the
time she is both right and profoundly ahead of her time.
Let me say further that Objectivists have a different kind of problem. You can
be very much an admirer of Ayn Rand but if you're in academia you also
want academic respectability. When you learn what a controversial figure
she is and with what scorn she is considered in academia, for the average
Objectivist this can be quite frightening. And he or she can begin back-
pedaling and wanting to dissociate himself or herself from her work, to not
be tarred with the same brush that is applied to her. It takes independence
and courage to acknowledge her whenever it is relevant and appropriate to
do so, and not be afraid to take on the battle that may follow.
Q: In Truth and Toleration David Kelley states that "As a philosophy of
reason, Objectivism must be an open system of thought, where inquiry and
debate may take place within the framework of the essential principles that
define the system." Some detractors argue that since "Objectivism" is a
proper noun, referring to Ayn Rand's philosophy, and not a term designating
a concept, that Objectivism has no definition. What's your view about this?
Branden: You can define Objectivism as simply "the philosophy formulated
by Ayn Rand." Or you can define it as "a philosophy formulated by Ayn Rand
that teaches that...etc., etc., etc." What difference does it make? Isn't this
pedantry? The truth is, Objectivism is both, depending on context — a proper
noun and a concept.
In the real world "Objectivism" stands for a set of ideas formulated by Rand.
Once those ideas are published, they acquire a life of their own. They can be
accepted by different people to varying degrees. They are intellectual tools,
really. Ways to understand the world. It's unrealistic to think one can freeze
that philosophy into a static set of concepts and insist that no further
implication, derived from the same base, is "Objectivism." We may not call
our new thoughts "Objectivism," if we wish to stress that they were not
originated by Rand, but we may certainly insist they are entailed or implied
by Objectivist premises — for example, the importance of benevolence in
human dealings, benevolence taken seriously as a virtue.
One or two further observations: When you call someone a "Kantian," you
don't mean someone who agrees with everything Kant said; you mean
someone who has accepted important fundamentals of Kant's system. The
same principle applies if you call someone an "Aristotelian." In philosophy,
this is generally understood. Why is Objectivism a special case, with unique
rules of its own? You try to lock a philosophy up — airtight — and you kill it.
Kelley isn't the danger to the future of Objectivism. The true believers are.
I have very little doubt that much of my work will be labeled "Objectivist"
even if the ideas were not proclaimed by Rand and we do not know if she
would agree with every detail. It will be obvious to any knowledgeable
person that the general orientation is Objectivist.
There is so much that Objectivism didn't address. There is so much work still
to be done.
We can be precise about what we do or do not attribute to Ayn Rand — that
is a different matter and obviously the integrity of her own thought needs to
be respected — but if you want to see Objectivism a living force in the world,
you better not fall so in love with orthodoxy that you paralyze people's ability
to think and innovate. The first question a good Objectivist should ask is, "Is
it true?" — not, "Would Ayn Rand agree?"
Q: Following the break with Rand, why didn't you start a new Institute or
movement of your own?
Branden: Ayn naively thought that once she had denounced me, none of
her admirers would deal with me. She assumed they would automatically
place her judgment above their first-hand experience of who I was. She
never had much esteem for most of her followers and this is an example. A
major effort was made to make me persona non grata among Objectivists,
which didn't work. Of course some people turned against me and are still
convinced I am a villain, but they are a minority.
The point is, had I wanted to start a new Institute or a new movement, it
would not have been difficult. I knew much more about how to do that than
anyone else in our circle. At the time of the break, I received a phone call
from some businessman I didn't know. He asked me to resurrect Nathaniel
Branden Institute in Los Angeles and offered to finance the whole operation. I
thanked him but refused. The businessman said to me, "But what will
happen to Objectivism now?" And I answered, with an immense sense of
relief, "That's not my problem anymore."
I felt like a great weight had gone. What I wanted most was a private life. I
wanted an office with one secretary, no big organization, never again. I
wanted time to rest, to absorb what had happened, to get past it and start a
new life. I wanted time with Patrecia. I was to have nine years — until she
died, at 37. I won't go into all that because the story is told in Judgment Day.
Q: I noticed that a number of letters to you were included in Letters of Ayn
Rand. Did you have to give permission for that?
Branden: No. One needs permission to publish letters someone else has
written, not to publish letters one has written oneself. Rand, and therefore
Rand's estate, have the right to publish any letter she wrote. What they
wouldn't have the right to publish without permission is my letters to her, or
anyone else's. Of course there were letters from Rand to me not included in
that collection. Either they were not included because they were very
intimate, or because Rand did not keep copies — they were not the kind of
notes one would keep copies of — or both.
Q: In "Lectures on Fiction Writing," a course given by Rand in the late 1950s,
you and Barbara Branden were in the audience. And yet, today, this course,
being sold by Second Renaissance Books, has been edited so that every time
your voice or Barbara's voice is to be heard, a narrator does a voice-over
instead, summarizing whatever either of you said. This reminds me of the old
Stalinist purges, where in photographs they cut out the heads of the people
who are persona non grata, as if they never existed. What do you think of
this practice of editing reality? And what are the implications for the
reliability of the new archives being opened by the Ayn Rand Institute?
Branden: Ayn Rand herself set the precedent for this pattern. When, for
instance, she broke with someone — say, Murray Rothbard or Edith Efron —
she never could acknowledge anything good about them, not even that they
were intelligent, no matter how much she might have praised their
intelligence in the past. Suddenly nothing about them was any good and
never had been.
For a brief while Ayn Rand even tried to sell the idea to some people that I
had never been more to her than a student, not even a close personal friend
— after removing the dedication to me from Atlas, when maybe 2 million
copies with the dedication were already in print! — so why would we expect
better from the current guardians of the faith? Some years ago, Leonard
Peikoff was being interviewed and he was asked how he met Ayn Rand. He
answered that an "acquaintance" had introduced them. The "acquaintance"
was his first-cousin, Barbara, and me. This is typical. He has done things like
that on a number of occasions. Poor Leonard; I think this is his notion of
being an "idealist."
What fascinates me, however, is the implicit contempt Leonard and his
friends must have for their own audience. Don't they realize that a good
many people have caught on to the truth of what they are doing? Strangers I
meet often joke with me about it; the practice is well-known.
If Objectivism stands for anything, it stands for respect for reality, facts, and
truth. But you see, this is what I meant in Judgment Day when I said that
once someone is declared an "enemy" of Ayn Rand, all morality is
suspended. My own view is that the ultimate test of our integrity is not how
we deal with those whom we agree with, those on "our side," but how we
deal with those who do not agree, those on the "other side."
As to the new archives being opened by the Ayn Rand Institute, it would be
quite senseless — in view of what is publicly known — to have much
confidence in their reliability. One has to assume they will be very one-sided,
very biased in what has been preserved, because of the evident obsession
with preserving the Ayn Rand image.
Q: With the letters and documents you have, are you going to someday have
an archive for future scholars?
Branden: Oh, I think so. After all the participants, myself included, are dead,
I guess.
Relationship with Rand and the Inner Circle
Q: What do you think of Barbara's Passion of Ayn Rand? In your opinion, was
it on the whole an accurate biography?
Branden: Within the limits of my knowledge, it seems to be. The part I
especially appreciated was Barbara's treatment of Rand's early years, about
which I knew relatively little. I was impressed by her research. And the book
is well-written.
Her treatment of the affair with Ayn and later with Patrecia was off on a
number of points and left out a good deal that was important. To some
extent, that was understandable. She couldn't know what went on between
Rand and me, or Patrecia and me, when we were alone. That is the story I
tell in Judgment Day. Barbara asked me for help with issues like that and I
told her I couldn't help her because I was planning to write a memoir of my
own. I was only able to help her on smaller, technical things, dates,
sequences of events, and so forth. And when she complained that she
couldn't decide what to call the book, I suggested The Passion of Ayn Rand —
which she immediately liked. On most of the big issues, I think anyone can
see that our portraits of Ayn Rand are fairly congruent.
Q: Do you have any contact with Barbara or Allen Blumenthal these days?
Branden: With Barbara there is — very rarely — some exchange of notes;
nothing of great importance. It was a relationship that never should have
begun and I think we're both clear on that.
With Allen, no contact since the time of the break with one exception. At that
time, I requested a final meeting him, before I moved to Los Angeles, to see
what he and I might be able to resolve. He refused to meet with me. Some
years later, after Patrecia's death, I received a touching condolence note
from him and his wife Joan. I was so devastated by the death, I had no heart
for animosity with anyone, and I wrote back, thanking them, and suggesting
that perhaps we should make a fresh effort to try to understand one another.
Allen refused.
Q: There are people from Rand's inner circle that are still angry with you and
think you are not a good person. Is there anything you would like to say to
them? Are you interested in making amends?
Branden: Making amends for what? If they think I wronged them in some
respect, they never communicated that information to me — neither back in
the days when we were all together in the circle nor afterwards, following the
break.
I certainly feel badly about any harm I might have unwittingly done to my
NBI students — and one of my purposes in writing The Disowned Self was to
help them against the kind of emotional repression we subtly and not so
subtly encouraged. One of my intentions in writing Judgment Day was to help
people sort out the good from the bad in Objectivist world. That, too, was a
form of "making amends." And judging from the mail I received, I evidently
succeeded with a good many people.
As to those who still think I'm a "bad person," or who are angry over how
they feel I treated them, I can only say that if my life and published work
since the time of the break has not given them grounds to do some fresh
thinking, nothing I might say now would be meaningful.
As to the "inner circle" specifically, I will say again that not one of them ever
confronted me with any complaint concerning my treatment of them. All they
ever spoke to me about was how much I had helped them. Only after Ayn
turned against me and I was gone from New York City did I begin to hear
about grievances, but always second-hand, never told to me by the
individuals actually involved. And do you know, it's been twenty-eight years
now.
An exception to what I've just said is my sister Elayne Kalberman and her
husband Harry, who were members of our group. They told me their hurts
and I told them mine. We talked out and settled our differences many years
ago and now have a very good relationship.
When people approach these issues with honesty and good will, they're
usually not that difficult to resolve. Did I make some mistakes in the way I
treated people I deeply regret? Of course. And over the years anyone who
had the courage to come forward and speak to me about this got a fair and
undefensive hearing. When apologies were appropriate, and sometimes they
were, I made them — eagerly and unreservedly. Those encounters typically
concluded benevolently. I'm not shy about admitting errors, when I
understand them.
Q: Many people have argued that you were less than gentlemanly for
detailing so much in Judgment Day. Did you have to be so explicit in the sex
scenes? Do you have any regrets for having "told all?"
Branden: You know, when I wrote the memoir I thought that one of its most
interesting features would be a man writing intimately about the experience
of being in love. Not many men have done that, while a great many women
have. So I was shocked at reactions such as your questions imply — truly
shocked.
Judgment Day is the story of my development told through my relationships
with three women, of which the relationship with Ayn Rand is the dramatic
centerpiece that integrates the events. If you the reader did not know, in
some detail, the nature of my relationship with Barbara, there would be no
way to understand some of the choices I made regarding Ayn. Barbara was,
in important ways, the emotional context — Barbara, plus, of course, all of
my growing up years. And if one did not understand the dynamics of my
sexual relationship with Ayn, one would not really understand the overall
relationship at all.
The sex scenes were very difficult for me to write; I did not enjoy doing them,
to put it mildly. But I became convinced — slowly and after much
consideration — that they were necessary. You have to understand the
method of the book. First, realize that the book is not an autobiography but a
memoir — meaning not a work of history but a selective recreation of certain
key events in my life as I remember them. And it is not Ayn Rand's story, it is
my story. I mention this because somebody once reproached me for writing
so much about myself rather than about her.
And second, in recreating the story, I wanted you to live through the events
with me; I wanted, not to talk about what happened, but to take you through
the experience. What was it like to fall in love for the first time at the age of
eighteen? What was it like to meet Ayn Rand? What was it like to be in a
romantic relationship with her? What was it like to realize I had made a
terrible mistake? And with Barbara conveying that, in spite of everything, she
could not live without me (I have letters from her to support what I am
saying in case Barbara feels like debating history with me), and Ayn
declaring that I was her "lifeline to reality" — what was it like to encounter
Patrecia and fall in love with her? I wanted the reader to walk beside me
through those events.
That is the key to how the book is written. And that is why I included what I
did. In some situations I described my personal reactions to certain members
of our circle in ways that fit then, when the events were happening, but
wouldn't at all fit what I feel today. I included them because that was part of
recreating the reality of the episodes. It's disappointing if people don't
understand that. Perhaps there was a way to make it clearer.
Coming back to the more intimate aspects of the story, I will offer one more
observation. If a woman had written something comparable, no one would
complain that she was not a "lady." Women write such memoirs all the time.
But it seems that for some people, men do not yet have that right.
As to regrets about what I put in the book, I have two small ones, but they
are of a different nature entirely. At the end of the book, I regret mentioning
my financial conflicts with Barbara; I know what my reasons were at the
time, but the subject is simply too disgusting and should have been omitted.
And early in the book I mistakenly condensed two events into one: the time
when we went from New York to Toronto for Allen Blumenthal's concert
happened several years after Ayn and Frank's visit to Toronto, in 1954, which
culminated in the famous "car ride" back, when my relationship with Ayn
shifted from a friendship to a romance. I treated both events as happening
during the same week. Not only did my memory fail me on this, but it also
failed all three of my sisters, whom I consulted and remembered the events
as I described them. It's not important, but it's annoying.
Q: But most people I talked to who read Judgment Day thought the sex
scenes were unnecessary to the story, that it seemed to them you included
them to sell books. Granted, Rand lied about you and your financial dealings
at NBI during the breakup to hide the embarrassing affair, and you had a
right to reveal the truth about the relationship to explain what happened. But
aren't the details of a romantic relationship, by its nature, still private, as if
they were part of an oral contract?
Branden: It's very typical of Objectivists, when they object to something
someone does, to have a strong opinion as to motive — in this case, to sell
books and make money. In other words, to them an honest difference of
opinion is not conceivable. It does not inspire me to want to explain myself.
So I will simply say that sex is not a sacrosanct aspect of life separate from
all normal activities. Sex is part of life. Sex is part of love relationships.
Through sex, a man and a women disclose a great deal about who they are.
This is why, in novels, we usually — today — have at least one scene
showing the couple making love: it illuminates further who they are and what
their relationship is. Imagine the sex scenes cut from Atlas. Do you think Ayn
included those scenes merely "to sell books" or because she was honestly
persuaded the story required them? A reviewer accused her of just what I am
accused of: including sex for commercial reasons. Where must you be
coming from to imagine such a thing? If my readers are offended by the sex
scenes, I'm afraid I must say that it's their problem, not mine.
One more point. In her article, Ayn hinted that I had dark psychological
problems about which I consulted her; it wasn't true, not the way she
suggested, but if it were true then it would have been a terrible ethical
breach for her to disclose this information publicly. Does anyone really think
that this was any less "intimate," any less "invasive" than writing two sex
scenes that were, by the way, very complimentary to her? At least what I
wrote was true.
Q: In Judgment Day you describe Ayn Rand as having experienced a
profound depression following the publication of Atlas Shrugged. Your
romantic affair with Ayn essentially ceased during this period. Neither your
book nor Barbara's really explains why. Could you explain?
Branden: In the words of Francisco D'Anconia, she wasn't "happy enough."
Depression often drains all interest in sex or love. She was totally
preoccupied with her position in the culture and could think of very little else.
For two years, that's almost all we talked about. The atmosphere was that of
being in a hospital.
In light of the fabulous sales of Atlas, I was never fully able to understand her
attitude. I knew it wasn't the attacks that hurt her so much as it was the lack
of a significant intellectual defense from someone outside our circle. I kept
waiting for her life force — I don't know what else to call it — to reassert
itself. It never really did. Something was gone and gone irretrievably.
Q: In our interview with Jack Wheeler he said Ayn Rand was addicted to diet
pills that altered her behavior. How much was she taking, and how altered
was she?
Branden: She was taking a relatively small quantity of a drug called
Dexedrine which in those days doctors were prescribing very freely for
people who wanted to control their appetite. Today of course Dexedrine has
a bad name and it's no longer recommended. But it was recommended to
her, I think, when she was only twenty-eight years of age, and she had been
taking two pills a day, I believe almost as long as she lived. I don't think she
took heavy doses.
There's been some research that suggests that if you take Dexedrine year
after year it may possibly introduce certain paranoid trends. I don't know if
this is true or not. I know that there's been discussion about it in the
pharmacological literature. I don't know what the more recent research is.
It would be very tragic if that played any part in the whole story of what
happened. I've wondered about it because at times her behavior struck me
as bizarre in ways that totally mystified me. But I really don't have any hard
knowledge.
Q: Now for some controversial questions, about which I think it's important
to hear your side of the story. In 1989 you published your memoir, Judgment
Day, and in January, 1990, Liberty magazine published an interview with
Barbara in which she described herself as quite "angry" with you. She
evidently felt you had portrayed her unfairly. She also felt you had taken
inadequate responsibility for some of the actions you took while associated
with Rand. Finally, she insisted that when it came to handing out moral
judgments, Ayn Rand was a "pussy cat" compared to you. Comments,
please?
Branden: Let me take your questions in order. To this day, I do not know
what Barbara thinks was "unfair" in my description of her. She certainly
knows that I told the truth about our sexual history. She told someone I had
presented her in the book as being, in effect, "the Whore of Babylon." I asked
quite a few people if that was their impression; everyone said no, and were
astonished at Barbara's interpretation. I paid her many compliments in the
book and acknowledged her many virtues. But the difficulties between us did
happen and telling them was essential to making clear what was to happen
later.
A well-known actress, who was eager to play Ayn in a movie adaptation of
the book (I rejected the proposal that was offered me) — and who I think
could have been terrific — expressed shock when I told her of Barbara's
reaction, and expressed the opinion that I had shown Barbara great
compassion in the book. This view has been echoed by many other people. I
suppose what makes this issue difficult to settle is that each person brings
his or her own psychology to the way the book will be interpreted.
As to acknowledging responsibility for my mistakes, I would say that I did so
pretty clearly in the book — certainly more clearly than anyone else who
participated in that madness ever did, Barbara included. If I recall correctly,
Barbara's big concession in Passion was to acknowledge that no one ever
held a gun to her head and that what she did during those years, she did
voluntarily.
I have no idea what Barbara would like me to have said beyond what I did
say, which makes responding difficult. Not only in the memoir, but also in
many public lectures, I acknowledged that in those years I was sometimes
autocratic, moralistic, insensitive, uncompassionate, and even cruel. That
was not my intention but it was how I acted at times. I don't know of anyone
else in our group who has ever gone public as I have or done as much to
clean up the past. Which leads me to your last question.
Thousands of people who were at our lectures know the allegation that Ayn
was a "pussy cat" compared to me, in the realm of moral judgments, is
untrue. No one could explode with wrath like Ayn Rand. It was Ayn who
Barbara wanted out of the question-and-answer period following my lectures,
as she says in Passion.
But suppose you're a newcomer to all this, weren't at the lectures, and can't
decide who's telling the truth. Here's what I suggest. Read the articles by
Ayn and me in The Objectivist Newsletter and The Objectivist. Judge for
yourself who's the master of moralizing, psychologizing, and flinging moral
judgments like thunderbolts. Notice, for instance, who ridicules the physical
appearance of political opponents, such as Hubert Humphry. The evidence is
there. You don't have to take anyone's word for anything — not about this.
What is incredible to me about this accusation — apart from how easy it is to
disprove — is how opposite it is to what Barbara used to tell me. In the early
years following the break, Barbara would reproach me for being too hard on
myself and too blind in my attitude toward Ayn. She would tell me how kind
and benevolent I was when we first met, and how Ayn repressed and twisted
all that in me. She told me I was refusing to confront the extent of Ayn's evil
and of the harm she had done me and her and everyone else. Edith Efron
joined her in this view.
I'm pretty sure I have somewhere in my files the copy of a letter I wrote Edith
in which I argued that it would best serve all our interests, not to deny Ayn's
faults, but to confront our own complicity in the nightmare of those years. I
suggested that she and Barbara would benefit from spending more energy
looking inward than always dwelling on how terrible Ayn was. Both women
conveyed that I was naive. That was in the 1970s. In the 1980s — I guess
when she began working on the biography — Barbara turned around entirely
and decided that I was the villain and that she, Barbara, would be Ayn's
champion. If one knows the full story, this is all really a farce.
Q: Did writing Judgment Day help you to integrate the past, let go of it, and
move on with your life?
Branden: That was not why I wrote the book, but — yes. I decided to write
the book on the day I suddenly saw all that had happened as a novel. I
mean, it had the drama and plot structure of a novel. Also, there was the
challenge of taking a fresh look at all that had happened, as honestly as I
could.
Some people believe that the book was written "in answer" to Barbara's
book. Barbara evidently believes that. Yet she knows that I was planning that
memoir before she had written a word of Passion. If my primary purpose had
been a defense of my actions, I would have made the book much more
psychological. I deliberately didn't. I kept psychology to a minimum, by
conscious intention. I wanted to recreate the essential facts, as I understood
and remembered them, and let the story speak for itself.
My wife Devers was afraid that going back into all those events would
depress me. Through most of the writing, I was incredibly happy. It was an
emotional and spiritual adventure. I only had a few really bad days, when
writing about Patrecia's death. Of course the experience was integrative and
healing. I felt much more distant from that part of my life. So, yes, writing
the book was good therapy.
Q: Barbara criticizes you in Passion for signing a 15-year lease with the
Empire State Building, involving a commitment of almost half a million
dollars (when that was a lot of money!) at a time when you knew your
relationship with Rand could blow up at any moment. And during this same
period you were willing to have Rand write an introduction to Psychology of
Self-Esteem, in spite of the growing breach between you. Are Barbara's
claims correct and if so how do you justify your behavior?
Branden: Until very close to the end, I could not believe I was not going to
find a happy solution to everything. I believed very profoundly that what I
wanted — Patrecia, Ayn, the world of Objectivism, the battle I wanted to fight
for the values of Atlas — was rational.
You must realize, I did not want a break with Ayn nor did I want to stop
fighting for Objectivism. In a sane universe, I felt, those values could not be
in irreconcilable conflict. Surely, I told myself, Ayn has to wake up one day
and become once again my image of her, and then we will be able to work
everything out benevolently. I suppose, playing this back, I sound rather
foolish or at least naive. Anyway, that's why I signed the lease.
Regarding Ayn writing an introduction to Psychology of Self-Esteem, I
believed that was owed me, after all the work I had done fighting for her
work and all the compliments she had paid my book. I expected her to be
willing to say in print what she had said to me privately. I did not believe that
that should be contingent on my being in love with her, or on not being in
love with Patrecia. Of course in the full context I was wrong, because Ayn
certainly had the right to set the terms of her endorsement, whether those
terms were reasonable or not. If loving her was part of the package, I was
free to say "no." But I was not thinking very clearly during that period.
Q: In Judgment Day you cut out a story involving your present wife Devers'
encounters with Ayn Rand. I saw a video tape of you talking about this
episode. You mentioned that the last of these conversations, over the
telephone, was tape recorded. Wasn't that both illegal and unethical? What
were your considerations? How do you justify what you did?
Branden: You would have to know the full context. After keeping Devers in
her apartment for 5 hours at their first meeting, and encouraging her to
come back or call — provided Devers never mentioned my name! — we
began to hear rumors that Ayn was telling her friends this woman Devers
was pestering her, evidently wanting a reconciliation between Branden and
herself, which by then Ayn knew was nonsense.
Ayn got upset when Devers called to tell her about these rumors and wanted
to know who was spreading these lies, who from her own inner circle had
"betrayed" her? But we kept hearing these rumors of Ayn bad-mouthing
Devers, and I got angry and sick over the whole situation and proposed to
Devers that she call Ayn one more time and I would tape record their
conversation because I wanted Ayn's repudiation of these rumors on tape. I
was feeling very protective of Devers. But afterwards, I saw that the whole
thing was stupid, pointless, and unworthy, since I knew that in the real world
I would never actually play the tape of that conversation to anyone. We
destroyed the damned thing.
The full story is now available on my web page. It's at:
http://www.vix.com/objectivism/Writing/NathanielBranden/
If anyone cares, read what I wrote and decide for yourself.
Q: Rand named Leonard Peikoff her "intellectual heir." Granted the concept
is a peculiar one, do you think of yourself as Rand's legitimate intellectual
heir?
Branden: No. I agree that the concept is an odd one. I would not wish to be
thought of as Ayn's intellectual heir. And you have to realize that Ayn's
number one value in such matters was loyalty. By that standard, Leonard is
the man. He's proud to be Ayn's lifelong servant — he's as much as said so. I
wouldn't be. I have a mission of my own. If you were to ask a different
question, if you were to ask which of us in the end was doing greater honor
to Ayn's work, then I would say that I was.
Q: Because you have written more books?
Branden: No. Because of the content and quality of those books.
Q: While both you and Barbara assert that Frank O'Conner had a drinking
problem, Leonard Peikoff denies it. The empty booze bottles in Frank's
studio, according to Peikoff, were used for mixing paints. I'm an artist and
I've never heard of using booze bottles for that purpose because the necks
are too small. What's the truth here? Did he have a drinking problem and if
so, how severe?
Branden: Barbara tells the story accurately in Passion. I can't tell you how
severe the problem was, beyond saying it was serious. I understand it was
Ayn who originated the explanation that Frank used liquor bottles to mix his
paints. As you point out, the necks are rather small. Let me put it this way: If
Frank can mix paints in a liquor bottle, why can't Leonard be introduced to
Ayn Rand by an "acquaintance"?
Q: In Judgment Day you said that after finishing Atlas Shrugged, Rand was
thinking fairly seriously of divorcing Frank. Why? And what made her change
her mind?
Branden: Ayn told me that she had been unhappy with Frank for some
years, chiefly because of his overall passivity and lack of intellectuality. She
could become quite agitated over what she would later call his "psycho-
epistemology." He was not a linear thinker, which was the only kind of
thinker she really respected. Then there were other reasons I don't care to
go into.
She said that she could not blow up her life while writing Atlas and had
decided she would confront the issue after the book was finished. But by the
time I was hearing this, in 1954, I don't think she was still considering it. I
believe by then she had decided they were bonded for life. Anyway, without
going back into my notes for Judgment Day, that is how I remember it.
I don't think she ever would have divorced him. She needed him. And once I
entered the picture, it was easier for her to accept his shortcomings because
now she was getting important wants met by me. I sometimes tell clients
that one of the problems with extramarital affairs is that they can make your
marriage bearable.
I think it more likely, if he had money of his own, if he had been financially
independent, that Frank would have divorced her. If I recall correctly, he
once conveyed this thought to Barbara, in a moment of despair. The rage
that came out of him when they had quarrels was something to see. In its
intensity it could be both alarming and heart-breaking. I believe that was a
major cause of his drinking — to make his life with her endurable. He was
completely dominated. His one escape from her, apart from drinking, was his
painting.
The myth of the happy marriage of Ayn and Frank is one more example of
the kind of denial of reality that was originated by Ayn and then perpetuated
by the guardians of her image.
Q: In Judgment Day you quoted Rand as saying that "We are lovers or we are
nothing." Doesn't genuine love entail that sometimes we need to set a loved
one free? Do you think Rand fully understood what loving a person meant?
Branden: Yes and no. She certainly understood what love meant in the
abstract. But did she adequately understand it as applied to her own life? I
would say no. It was hard for Ayn to fully see anyone's needs but her own.
This is often true of highly creative people with an over-riding sense of
mission. We get something very close to narcissism. "I am special.
Everything is owed to me because I am creative genius with a very important
task to accomplish."
Once Ayn decided that I should be in love with her, if I was truly "John Galt,"
then reality went out the window. What it was like to be a much younger
man in that situation never seemed to occur to her. I cannot recall the
smallest acknowledgment of what life must be like from my perspective. She
took it as axiomatic that her perspective and mine must be the same. And
admiring her as much as I did, and feeling so indebted to her for all I had
learned, I lacked the wisdom and courage to call her on her obliviousness. I
kept hoping that one day she would come to her senses. I kept telling myself
that she was the greatest mind of the twentieth century and surely she
would have to wake up and see our situation for what it was. My hope was
that we could then become friends again.
What I failed to do was to take the initiative, take proper responsibility — I
wrote about this in The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem — tell Ayn the full truth as I
saw it, confront her on her behavior, and fight for a benevolent resolution; or
accept the consequences of not achieving such a resolution. Obviously that
is what I should have done. Would I have succeeded with Ayn? I don't believe
so, not in a million years. The ending would have been the same — the
denunciations, the break-up, and the hysteria that came afterward. I am
quite convinced of this, although there is no way to prove it. The only
difference, and it's a big one, is that then I could have been prouder of my
own role.
Q: Rand didn't have any children so she could pursue a career, and a lot of
Objectivist couples followed her example. Do you regret not having children
now that you so much enjoy your grandchildren? And did Rand ever express
regrets about not having one?
Branden: I love children, get on famously with them, and my grandchildren
are one of the great joys of my life. There are no words to convey how much
I love being a grandfather. And yet, knowing myself, I cannot regret not
having children of my own because I am so work-focused; I always knew that
it would be a major achievement to integrate and do right by my career and
my marriage, and that children would spread me too thin and I did not want
to be the father who wasn't there.
I know, none of this is written in stone. I suspect that if I had met Devers
when we were both younger, I might have changed my mind. We both stop
children on the street and get into long conversations with them at the drop
of a hat.
It's a shame if a couple chose not to have children merely because the
O'Conners and the Brandens didn't, but I'm afraid that sometimes happened;
not a good motivation, is it?
To answer the last part of your questions: I have never regretted not having
children of my own and neither did Rand. The difference is: I got lucky in the
end, in spite of myself, when Devers and her two grown daughters came into
my life. To my astonishment, I have become something of a family man, and
it is a source of great joy to me.
The only painful aspect in all this for me — and it's very painful — is that our
first grandson, Brandon, about whom I wrote in Judgment Day — was killed in
an automobile accident early last year. Nineteen ninety-five was a rather
difficult year for my wife and myself because of this. It was Brandon, who
was born a few months before Devers and I met — his name is pure
coincidence — who opened me up to the world of children. Through him I got
to know a whole other part of myself.
Q: I'm terribly sorry to hear that.
Branden: Thank you.
Q: Would it be better for the Objectivist movement if the full truth about Ayn
Rand were known?
Branden: Objectivism teaches that nothing good comes from faking reality.
It would have been a great gift to her admirers if Ayn Rand had been more
honestly self-disclosing. If she acknowledged her problems and
shortcomings, they would have honored her more, not less, because then
she would have been in reality, and her admirers would have been in reality,
and she would have been seen and appreciated as an actual human being,
not a phony abstraction.
She was a genius. Her literary achievements and philosophical contributions
are enormous. Couldn't she let that be enough? What good purpose was
served by her grandiosity? All it accomplished was to give her followers a
totally unrealistic picture of human psychology.
I remember one night, after Atlas was published, she was sitting on the sofa,
crying, protesting the state of the world and her place in it, and then she said
how much she would hate for John Galt to see her this way, how much she
would hate for him to see her miserable or in tears. I said, "Why? Wasn't this
part of the battle? Wasn't feeling like hell and then picking yourself up and
carrying on part of what made the struggle heroic? What was there to be
ashamed of? Why did one have to pretend that there were never moments of
utter despair? Wasn't the challenge to experience them, own them, admit
them, without denial or pretense — and then go on fighting?" I said we
should be proudly willing to let people see us in our darkest moments
because in the end it was not going to be our darkest moments that would
define us.
Her answer was astonishing, coming from Ayn Rand. She said something
like, "I agree with you, in the abstract, but I can't seem to get there. Not in
this case."
Ayn had certain insecurities. Fine. Who hasn't? She was not consistently
rational twenty-four hours a day. I've never known anyone who was. The goal
is to keep raising our average. But by denying and pretending, we don't
make ourselves more rational, we make ourselves less rational. It's not our
shortcomings that are our undoing. It's our denial of them. We are defeated
by what we refuse to own within ourselves. If we are willing to know and
accept the truth about ourselves — our thoughts, feelings, and actions —
change and growth become possible. If we refuse to know and accept, we
remain stuck. Nothing can be so powerfully self-transformative as self-
awareness and self-acceptance. That was the most important thing I had to
learn following the break.
The longest chapter in How to Raise Your Self-Esteem, the chapter on self-
acceptance, is devoted to explaining why and how this works. If Ayn could
have faced her emotions honestly, if she could have let herself examine her
fears, hurts, angers, and jealousies — above all, if she could have admitted
fully how wounded she was — she would have been a far greater human
being and would have left a far greater personal legacy.
Leonard and his colleagues are intent on selling her as a woman "of
unbreached self-esteem, untouched by inner conflicts of any kind." Women
of unbreached self-esteem, untroubled by inner conflicts, don't fly off into
rages at the smallest provocation. They are more centered than that. They
have greater serenity. They are not so easily thrown off balance. Would it be
so terrible to admit that? Would Objectivism really lose so much? "Nobody
stays here by faking reality in any manner whatever," says John Galt in Atlas
Shrugged.
Psychology and relationships
Q: In your earlier lectures, you had many fascinating things to say about
masculinity and femininity, and yet you barely touched on those concepts in
The Psychology of Romantic Love. You wouldn't consider addressing these
concepts again in some future book?
Branden: I've learned never to say never, but I doubt it. Not that the issue
doesn't interest me; a lot of issues interest me. Right now a lot of research is
being conducted in this area. Let's wait and see what turns up.
I sometimes wish there could be a twenty-year moratorium on the words
"masculinity" and "femininity," and, during the same period, a far greater
emphasis placed on self-acceptance. If we were all as honestly accepting of
our natural inclinations as we knew how to be, without concern about
cultural stereotypes of what was "appropriate," I think we would see patterns
of difference between males and females. I have strong opinions about what
some of those patterns would be. But it would be interesting to let the
evidence accumulate and speak for itself.
Many feminists, of course, have an agenda in this area, and wish on political
principle to deny any significant differences between the sexes except the
obvious physical ones. They want to insist it's all a matter of culture and
upbringing. I think reality is against them. Which doesn't mean there isn't
plenty wrong with traditional sex roles. However, I think it's foolish to
imagine that our physical differences do not result in any psychological
differences, at least as tendencies.
As an interesting aside, a psychological study isolated a group of men and
women who by their peers were judged to be highly creative individuals.
They gave this group a battery of tests and what they found was that
creative men tended to exhibit a high number of traits the world calls
feminine, and that the women manifested a high number of the traits that
the world calls masculine. That doesn't mean that the men were effeminate
and the women were butch. But they seemed to have more of the traits
commonly associated with the opposite sex.
I have an explanation for this, which is the following: highly creative people
are at least in some respects more independent than the average person;
they are much more attentive to their internal signals, and because of this,
they are less likely to block off or disown pieces of themselves that don't fit
cultural stereotypes.
Q: There's a lot of talk in psychology about the difference between men and
women's attitude toward sex and relationships — that when a man is
younger all he thinks about is "nailing" a girl and all the girl thinks about is
getting married. This is quite a conflict! What would you say to teenagers
about viewing their sex lives, and understanding the other sex's very
different goals?
Branden: If we were more accepting of our own sexuality, and the sexuality
of the opposite gender, I don't think we so readily fall into adversarial
postures. I think we could be more open and honest about our feelings.
I suspect we should not be so prone to treat each other as "objects." Males
tend to treat females as sex objects and females tend to treat males as
success objects (to borrow a phrase from my friend Warren Farrell, author of
a marvelous book on this subject, The Myth of Male Power). Just as lots of
men like to "nail" (using your word) sex objects, lots of women like to "nail"
success objects. We don't relate as human beings. Alienation from the self
inevitably leads to alienation from the other.
Q: One area where we've seen some evolution in your views is the issue of
homosexuality. How did you see homosexuality in the past, how do you see
it today, and why?
Branden: Today it seems clear that there is more than one kind of
homosexuality — by which I mean there is evidence that in some instances
people are born with this orientation, whereas in other instances it is
learned, acquired during the course of development, and in other instances
still, it is situational, as with people in prisons. Different explanations are
needed, rather than treating all cases as the same.
In the past I described homosexuality as a developmental problem, which I
think it is sometimes, but not always, not necessarily, so I prefer to avoid
generalizations. Until much more is understood than is understood at
present, I prefer to say nothing on the subject, especially since this is a field
in which I am not a specialist or expert.
The only exception I will make is that I am convinced it is a major error to
treat homosexuality as a moral issue. If I ever implied or conveyed anything
to the contrary, I profoundly regret it.
Q: You've also conveyed that Rand did her admirers a disservice by her own
moralistic pronouncements about homosexuality. What's your perspective on
this?
Branden: By treating homosexuality as a moral problem, all that is
accomplished is to fill people with guilt for something about which most of
them can do nothing. Now in therapy, if someone comes to me and insists
that he or she genuinely wants to change from a homosexual to a
heterosexual orientation, sometimes I am able to help, without judging the
client's choice, one way or the other. However, if a homosexual wishes to
work on other problems and does not raise the issue of sexual orientation as
an issue, I do not try to change his or her mind.
Ayn had the habit, unfortunately, of flinging moral pronouncements about
which she had no knowledge to support her verdicts. So did I, at times. Not a
good idea.
Q: After one lives with bad habits for 20 years, how does one change? Your
books suggest sentence-completion work, but that doesn't seem to be a very
complete technology.
Branden: I have never suggested that sentence-completion work alone is a
complete technology, although often it is a powerful force for change, as
many people have discovered. Apart from the clinical practice I get a good
deal of mail from readers who do the sentence-completion exercises I
recommend in my books, and they report electrifying changes.
But in addition I do many, many other things — from various forms of
psychodrama, to working with subpersonalities, to guided fantasy, to
techniques adapted from Neuro-Linguistic Programming, to working with the
person's energy system, to all kinds of homework assignments, and so forth.
What I do is much too complex to explain in an interview.
Q: Among the various movements in psychology and therapy what do you
think of the "Iron John" movement? I had a friend who went through it, and I
was very impressed with the things he told me. I was intrigued by their
techniques of destroying a man's false pride and helping him find to whom
he relinquished his masculinity.
Branden: I've never read or met Robert Bly (author of Iron John), and I know
only a little about the work he does. I can't say it strikes much resonance in
me but I do know men who find it enormously helpful, and I don't dismiss
that.
For many historical reasons, there's great confusion today about what
constitutes "masculinity" and "manhood." Many of the old models no longer
seem relevant. I see the issue as one of self-acceptance — forget social
stereotypes. I'm convinced that if men have the courage to connect with the
deepest parts of ourselves, they will discover their "masculinity," just as
women will discover their "femininity."
Q: Do you think teenagers should experiment with sex or are they too
immature to deal with such a complex issue, not to mention the problem of
disease and pregnancy? At what age (generally) should a young person
decide to have sex and under what conditions?
Branden: It's not so much a matter of age as of psychological maturity. One
can't properly answer this question merely in terms of age.
The principle is, when people act, at any age, they need to know what they
are doing, they need to operate consciously, and they need to be able and
willing to take responsibility for the consequences of their actions. This
clearly excludes girls who get pregnant at 14 and the boys who impregnate
them. But let's assume a young couple practices birth control. Even so, one
couple of, say, 15 or 16 might be fully equipped emotionally to handle sexual
intimacy while another couple will not.
We live in a time of great irresponsibility and one manifestation of the
irresponsibility is children having children and getting themselves diseased
and passing that disease to others. There is no such thing as sexual morality.
There is only morality. There is living consciously or not consciously, living
responsibly or not living responsibly.
Q: What would you say to a man who says: "I'm a nice guy and because I'm
a nice guy women aren't interested in me; they go for these guys who leave
them hanging by the phone. They don't find me exciting."
Branden: As long as there are girls with cold or rejecting fathers, a certain
type of rejecting man will always have sex appeal for those females. That's
one part of the story. Let's call it the neurotic part.
But there is another part that is less understood. There's a story I like to tell
men who are not especially self-assertive.
Many years ago I became friendly with a woman who worked in the same
building, and occasionally we'd bump into each other in the elevator, and
we'd end up having lunch together. She was dating a friend of mine at the
time. So one day over lunch I said how are you and so-and-so getting along,
just to make conversation. And she said: "I'm actually thinking of ending the
relationship." I said: "Really, if it's not an invasion of your privacy, do you feel
like telling me why?" She said: "Well, it's really odd; I'm a fairly experienced
woman, and he is by far the best lover I have ever known, and he is in many
ways a terrific man to be with." So I said, knowing I was about to learn
something very interesting, "Then why are you ending the relationship?" She
sighed, and she looked at me, and said: "Nathaniel, he's too eager to
please." And I understood everything.
In other words he had such a desire to be liked or approved that there wasn't
enough male animal self-assertiveness in the relationship. He could be a
marvelous lover, or a marvelous escort, but was missing something that she
legitimately wanted. I wouldn't call that neurotic on her part.
Q: While granting that self-esteem deficits lead to many other psychological
problems, do you insist that "all" psychological problems are rooted in a
troubled self-esteem?
Branden: If you mean caused by troubled self-esteem, and by that alone,
no. If you mean, do we always find troubled self-esteem in the background,
contributing to the problem in some way, often in a very basic way, the
answer is yes, if not always, then a great deal of the time.
What I will say now is simply this. It is easy to see that many problems are a
clear expression of poor self-esteem, such as fear of self-assertiveness, a
habit of making self-deprecating comments, fear of change, novelty, or
challenge, plus a good deal of anxiety and depression (although not all). And
it is easy to see that many other problems are defenses against poor self-
esteem, such as grandiosity, seeking always to control others' behavior,
focusing on popularity or material acquisitions as proof of self-worth, a
habitual policy of putting other people down in order to lift oneself up, and so
forth.
But to say that we can trace most problems to a troubled self-esteem is not
to say that no other causal factor is involved. I need to clarify this point still
further in some future writing project.
Q: On the subject of responsibility, what do you think of the practice of an
unhappily married couple staying together "for the sake of the children?"
Where does responsibility end and self-sacrifice begin?
Branden: A simple, general answer is not easy. There is no question that
children suffer from divorce. It is also true that they suffer when the parents
are always fighting and unhappy. And certainly responsible parents have to
think about the impact on the children of their choices and decision. When
children are involved — especially young children — self-responsible adults
act slowly, thoughtfully, and non-impulsively. Their thinking does not stop at,
"Don't I have a right to my self-interest?"
Objectivism certainly teaches that we are responsible for the consequences
of our actions. No one forces us to have children. If we elect to bring them
into the world, we cannot walk away from our obligations to them merely
because the obligations now feel inconvenient. But we also have a right to
exist. And sometimes remaining in a marriage is so agonizing that we feel we
must leave, if we are ever to have any kind of a life at all. I respect that right,
too. So I do not condemn parents who break up a marriage, in spite of a
possibly negative impact on the children.
What I cannot admire, however, is (a) parents who have children
irresponsibly in the first place, (b) parents who walk away from a marriage
without making every effort possible to save the situation, and (c) parents
who do not think long and hard, and perhaps consults specialists, on how to
minimize the suffering of children following the break-up.
There are three things never to do impulsively or mindlessly: get married;
have children; get divorced. Of course, one shouldn't do anything else
mindlessly either.
Q: Leonard Peikoff said that it is all right to lie to someone if you think the
truth is none of their business and is not owed to them. Do you agree? Is it
ever morally permissible to lead someone astray with false information?
Branden: If you are being subjected to physical coercion or the threat of it,
obviously you are morally free to lie to protect yourself and your
possessions. We don't owe honesty to someone pointing a gun at us.
When people ask questions that we perceive to be none of their business, it's
far better to refuse to discuss the issue than to lie. Better to point out,
perhaps, that the question asked is none of the questioner's legitimate
business. Or to answer in a very general way that gives away nothing you
don't wish to give away. Sometimes nothing short of a lie will protect us, of
course, and if the questioner truly has no right to ask what he or she is
asking, I suppose a lie is defensible. But we are all on our honor here,
because it is awfully easy to kid ourselves about what someone else does or
does not have a right to ask.
What makes your question tricky, in part, is that you know, and I know, and
many other people know — or at least we suspect — that Leonard developed
this argument to legitimate Rand's lying to everyone about her affair with
me. She was demanding that Leonard and others in our circle damn me
while withholding from them a vital piece of information that would help
them understand what was really at issue. Once Rand asked her followers to
damn Nathaniel Branden, she lost the right to claim that her full reasons and
context were none of their business.
Not that she could always control herself. At the time of the explosion, in the
summer of 1968, when my sister Florence met with Ayn and struggled to
decide who to believe, she spent several hours in Ayn's apartment while Ayn
ridiculed the idea of an affair between us as absurd. But Florence persisted in
her questioning, long after a loyal follower would have stopped — Florence
was an admirer but not a true believer — and finally Ayn yelled that if I was
the man I had pretended to be I would have been in love with her rather than
with Patrecia. And then Florence knew that I had been telling her the truth.
Since Ayn insisted that she always took pride in her choices and actions,
here was a chance to prove it. Why didn't she repeat the statement she
made to Florence, in the pages of The Objectivist? Why didn't she say it to
Leonard and the rest of our circle? Why didn't she proudly assert her values
and choices the way her heroes and heroines did? When I failed on this same
account, it was properly regarded as a vice.
Q: At NBI someone asked if a person can be involved in two romantic
relationships at the same time. You and Miss Rand replied that "Only giants
can." Considering the mess that the "giants" made, have you altered your
view on this?
Branden: Today I would answer that people with a less grandiose view of
themselves probably have a better chance of succeeding in such a project
with some reasonable degree of sanity and balance. Ayn and I — who were
operating totally out of reality — had no chance whatsoever. For further
details about what is or is not possible in relationships, let me refer you to
my Psychology of Romantic Love.
Q: Ayn Rand had a concept of the "ideal man" and she seems to have
projected that concept first onto her husband and then later onto you — as if
she could be in love with a man only if she perceived him as the embodiment
of the "ideal," irrespective of the man's actual real-world traits. Is there a
form of Platonism here?
Branden: Ayn one day admitted it to me, that if Frank had not looked as he
did, she would never have fallen in love with him. Looks were terribly
important to Ayn. I don't mean that it's wrong to care about looks. But Frank
and Ayn were so profoundly different in so many ways. Whatever his virtues
— and he did have virtues — I don't think anyone can deny that he was
passive, non-intellectual, non-assertive, and dependent.
Interestingly enough, it was Barbara who challenged me to look at Ayn
realistically on this subject. One day, not long after the break, when I was
trying to defend some aspect of Ayn's behavior because of how hurt she was,
Barbara said, "Nathan, be a psychologist. Look at Ayn as if she were a client
in your office. She's been in love with two men, and the first was passive and
totally subordinate to her, and the second was a man, no matter what his
strengths, twenty-five years her junior. What are the implications of that?
Ayn needs to be in control. And look at how she behaves when she can't be."
I was stopped dead in my tracks — because I saw that Barbara was right.
So, yes, Ayn did a lot of projecting, on Frank and on me, to justify and make
sense of her feelings for each of us. There's probably a little projecting in all
relationships, but Ayn took projection into the stratosphere. She over-praised
me many times. That was really harmful — and seductive. So long as I was
"her" man, everything I did was "genius." Very intoxicating to a young man.
Q: In Taking Responsibility, as well as in earlier writings, you acknowledge
that destructive parenting can have a devastating impact on a young
person's development. In light of this, if one has a wounded or
underdeveloped self-esteem, is it fair to regard oneself as immoral?
Branden: This is an important issue. Let me take my time with this. I will
begin with an observation that virtually every psychologist would agree with:
a person who thinks of himself or herself as "immoral" is likely to turn that
judgment into a self-fulfilling prophecy, by engaging in behaviors that are
immoral. That is why we warn parents against labeling children. In the
immortal words of child psychologist Haim Ginott, "Labeling is disabling."
Label a child as stupid, or sloppy, or incompetent — and watch the child go
out to prove you're right.
If a client wants to tell me that, in retrospect, he now perceives something
he or she once did as immoral, I do not challenge that, assuming it makes
sense to me. But if the person describes himself or herself as immoral, I
certainly do challenge it. I encourage people to see themselves as results of
the choices they make, and if they do not like some of their past choices, I
may encourage them to understand why they made them, and to explore
what better choices exist for the future. I am more interested in where we're
going than where we've been.
Now if parents have treated us badly, and we have acquired some
destructive behavior patterns of our own, I see no value in worrying about
what was my parents' "fault" and what is my "fault." I am interested in: how
do I do better in the future? And that is what I teach clients. A client
preoccupied with self-condemnation is harder to help, not easier. Also, as I
discussed in Honoring the Self, sometimes self-reproach is only a defense
strategy, an excuse not to grow: "I'm no good, so expect nothing of me."
Finally, I will say this: nobody ever improved by telling himself he was rotten
— or by being told he was rotten. And boy, is that something Objectivists
need to understand. Sometimes it breaks my heart a little when I get an
Objectivist for a client, and he says, "I've got poor self-esteem, I'm immoral, I
must be or else I'd have good self-esteem." And I ask of what the immorality
consists, and of course the client can almost never tell me.
The psychological roots of most problems are fairly complicated, a mixture of
environmental factors, volitional ones, and sometimes even biological ones.
It's not always possible to know all the factors involved or how they relate,
and fortunately in most cases it's not necessary to know in order to get the
problem solved. It's painful enough to have the problem. What is helped by,
in addition, tormenting oneself with self-reproach?
Apart from the fact that in this sphere we often lack the knowledge to make
appropriate judgments, even if we had the knowledge we have to ask: What
is our purpose here in making moral judgments? Is it just to make judgments
for the sake of making them, to prove I'm a good Objectivist? Is it to help me
overcome my problems and grow? Moral judgments have to have a purpose,
something we wish to accomplish. They rarely accomplish anything valuable
when working on one's own development. At best, they might be applicable
to actions we've taken and now regret. Even then, however, people generally
know when they've done something wrong. Psychotherapists don't need to
hit them over the head with it. More often, we have to make sure they don't
hit themselves over the head with it, to the extent that it blocks progress.
Occasionally, there is a client who does have to be helped to face the
wrongness of some action, but in my experience such clients are a small
minority. And even here, it's not so much a matter of focusing on how wrong
the action was — the client already knows that — as focusing on the fact that
the client really did perform this action, confronting the full reality of it. With
most clients my basic attitude is: "Shall we talk about how rotten you are or
shall we look at how you can do better in the future, and create a happier,
more satisfying life for yourself?"
Q: All the Objectivist virtues are directly volitional except one, Pride. Each
day we can say: "Today I will be honest, productive, rational..." but you
cannot say: "Today I will be proud." Pride is the end result of practicing the
other virtues, but it cannot be guaranteed if there has been traumatic
damage done to you as a child. Pride is a feeling, an end result of virtuous
action. How can a feeling be a virtue? How can the reward of virtuous action
be a virtue itself? Should pride be included in the Objectivist list if it cannot
be directly volitional?
Branden: What confuses this issue is that there are two different senses in
which we use the term "pride." We can mean pride as an emotional
experience and we can mean pride in the Objectivist sense of a virtue. When
we speak of pride as an emotional experience we refer to the pleasure we
take in our own achievements, in what we have made of ourselves as human
beings and what we have accomplished. When we speak of pride as a virtue,
we mean moral ambitiousness. We mean a commitment to valuing our own
life and striving to become the best person we can, in the moral sense. Here,
choice and volition are clearly involved.
Pride as a virtue entails treating yourself as a value, treating yourself with
respect, and this may not always be easy, because of one's fears or
insecurities. Courage may be needed. Of course, if one has been doing
things about which one feels ashamed or guilty, and refuses to confront
these issues and clean them up, pride is as good as impossible. Except that
there may still be some spark of pride left that inspires a person to call a halt
to his or her self-undermining activity.
Q: If pride is a virtue, and our goal if we are morally ambitious, do we not run
the risk of trying to create pride by making our ego the goal of winning an
argument, or deciding upon a set of truths that make us look good?
Shouldn't we just seek truth and be honest, productive, etc., and not worry
about pride so much? Wouldn't it be more philosophically correct and
psychologically more healthy, if it were not considered a virtue, but just an
emotional reward?
Branden: Pride divorced from honesty, reality, and integrity, is not pride.
Pride is not about "winning arguments" or "looking good." I have written
about this in The Six Pillars of Self-Esteem. Neither self-esteem or pride are
competitive or comparative. It is not about me winning over you or looking
better than you. It's about me being the best person I can be.
Q: You are often described as "the father of the self-esteem movement."
How do you feel about that? Do you think the movement has gone astray? If
so, how and why has it happened?
Branden: Being described that way puts me in a difficult position. I don't
want to be ungracious about what is intended as a compliment. And yet, I
have many problems with the self-esteem movement. I often agree with the
attacks of its critics, although I am also convinced most critics don't really
understand the issues involved.
There are a few serious people in the movement, doing really good work,
and I am proud to have them as colleagues. But there is also a lot of fluff, by
which I mean shallow, sugar-coated nonsense that has nothing important to
do with self-esteem. I'm thinking of the notion that you can grow in self-
esteem by greeting yourself in the mirror every morning, blowing yourself a
kiss, and saying, "Hi, perfect!" A lot of what is taught in the schools in the
name of self-esteem is pretty poor. It gives self-esteem a bad name — like
the notion that one should not let a child know how inadequate his or her
mastery of some subject is, for fear of undermining self-esteem, as if self-
esteem can be achieved by faking reality.
I have been fighting to put the whole subject of self-esteem on an
intellectually serious foundation. I am happy that my definition of self-
esteem was adopted by the National Council for Self-Esteem, although it is
by no means universally accepted by all members. There is still an enormous
amount of work to be done. What is certain, however, is that we have to get
away from associating self-esteem with schoolchildren singing songs about
how wonderful they are. We have to think much more deeply about what
self-esteem depends on and how it is nurtured.
Q: The Objectivist ethics treats Reason, Purpose, and Self-esteem as its
cardinal values. You have written a great deal about Self-esteem. Have your
ever considered turning your attention in future books to Reason and
Purpose?
Branden: I have a book coming out in the spring of 1997 — The Art of Living
Consciously. You can think of that, in a way, as my book about Reason,
although I will have more to say about it in another book I am now planning. I
don't put my discussion in the context of Objectivism, just as my writing on
self-esteem is not contextualized that way. I write as Nathaniel Branden, not
as "an Objectivist." As for Purpose, I don't plan to write more than what I
wrote in Six Pillars, where living purposefully gets a chapter.
Q: Might it be interesting for you to write a book about how to live rationally?
Or on how to choose a productive career?
Branden: Live rationally? That's The Art of Living Consciously. I've no plans
to write about choosing a career. I find my interests turning more and more
back to philosophy. I've done what I wanted to do in psychology.
Q: What advice do you have for anyone wanting to enter the field of
psychology, especially clinical psychology?
Branden: Learn as many different ways of working with people as you can.
Don't get stuck on just one or two techniques. Almost every system has
something of value in it. Find out what it is. And keep working on yourself.
And whether you're in clinical psychology or some other specialty, don't
think you have nothing to learn from other psychologists just because they
are not Objectivists. You have plenty to learn.
Philosophy
Q: Do you consider yourself an Objectivist?
Branden: In terms of broad fundamentals, sure.
Q: What are your chief differences with Rand?
Branden: The biggest area of difference that I am aware of so far is in
psychology. Most of the time I disagree with Rand's psychological
explanations of why people believe what they believe or do what they do.
For example, I totally dismiss her analysis of the psychology of mysticism, for
which, incidentally, she offers no evidence or proof whatever. I agree with
her in rejecting mysticism, but that's a different issue. Also, the psychology
of sex is much more complicated than one would ever gather from reading
Rand, although I once shared her views. And, in general, her explanations of
why people hold the ideas they do are merely assertions, unsupported by
argument, as if no other interpretations were possible than the ones that
occurred to her. I regard her metaethics as solid, but her ethics itself as
underdeveloped and very incomplete. Much more needs to be thought out in
the sphere of human relationships. I have some reservations in the field of
epistemology but so far they seem small and I am still formulating them. I
think her achievements in epistemology are stupendous.
Q: In your talk for IOS this past summer, you spoke of your need to get away
from Objectivism, following your break with Rand, in order to gain some
perspective. What did you learn by doing so?
Branden: I saw that in the world I had formerly inhabited we were all both
meat and meat-grinder — victim and executioner. I saw that Ayn's literary
and philosophical achievements had to be separated from Ayn the person to
be adequately appreciated. I saw that she was a tortured and tormented
giant. I saw that what I had gained from her, what she had given me,
mattered much more to me in the end than any wrong I might attribute to
her. And I saw that the pattern of our relationship — younger person and
older; student and mentor; Champion and Queen — was not some unique
experience I alone was suffering, but a story as old and familiar as history; in
a word, an archetype. In the words of the poem, our end was contained in
our beginning.
Q: In The Benefits and Hazards of the Philosophy of Ayn Rand, you said that
Rand never knew very much about mysticism, and also that mysticism and
irrationalism are not synonymous concepts although they are often so
treated by Objectivists. Would you clarify?
Branden: By "mysticism" I mean the claim there are aspects of existence
that can be known by means of a unique cognitive faculty whose judgments
are above the authority of sensory observation or reason. "Irrationalism," by
which I mean the sheer defiance of reason and logic per se, needn't make
any claim to other pathways to knowledge. One can be an irrationalist
without being a mystic.
If Ayn had ever seriously studied mystical literature, she would have known
how frivolous it was to identify mysticism with "the worship of feelings and
whims." The most brilliant and articulate spokesperson for mysticism to the
West is a psychologist named Ken Wilber. It's impossible to read him without
learning that mysticism is a much more complex subject than we ever
learned at Objectivist lectures. One doesn't have to be a mystic to recognize
that some of those people have extraordinary minds and sometimes very
interesting things to say. I address these matters in The Art of Living
Consciously.
Perhaps I should add that I remain an uncompromising champion of reason.
Q: Then the rumors are false that Nathaniel Branden has been flirting with
mysticism?
Branden: Yes, they're false. Also the rumors that I have become a convert
to God, altruism, and flying saucers.
Q: Why do you suppose such rumors started?
Branden: Perhaps because of what I've just said about Ayn not knowing
much about mysticism. Or perhaps because in my lectures and writings I talk
about the importance of kindness and benevolence in human relationships.
Or perhaps because, in light of how much Branden hurt Ayn Rand, why
wouldn't he believe in flying saucers?
Q: Rand always stressed that emotions are not tools of cognition. Many
Objectivists seem to ignore emotions in the name of "being rational." In
contrast, you emphasize the importance of listening to emotions and
learning from them. What role do emotions play in the acquisition of
knowledge?
Branden: If our goal is self-awareness and self-understanding, they play a
supremely important role. Emotions are not, literally, "tools of cognition," to
be sure, but they are often data of great significance. They allow us to
directly experience what things mean to us. Without that experience, we are
cut off from our own context. Try to decide "rationally" who to ask out for a
date, or who to marry, or whether or not to have children, or what career to
pursue, without the information provided by your feelings. One of the great
insights of my life was the realization that most of the big mistakes I had
made had happened while I was ignoring or was oblivious to what I felt.
Q: At the IOS conference, you spoke of the lack of any account of moral
redemption in the Objectivist literature. How might such a gap be filled?
Branden: Fortunately, I can give you an example from Atlas. In one of Ayn's
daydreams about the story, she had Stadler redeeming himself at the end by
turning against the government at great personal risk — I think he destroys
the Project X machine. There is an explosion and when he wakes up he's in
the Valley; Galt and the other strikers have rescued him. That would have
been a dramatization of moral redemption. The message would have been:
One can fall but then one can rise again. It could have been very inspiring.
But I don't think moral redemption interested her very much. Some other
Objectivist will have to write about it.
Q: Why do Objectivists so often appear arrogant? They seem to find it very
difficult to say "I don't know" or "I need to think about that." Is this where a
little humility might be a good thing?
Branden: I'm not fond of the term "humility," but I sympathize with the
intention of the question. What is needed is less pretentiousness and greater
realism. Many Objectivists seem to feel that they are special because they
share a philosophy superior to all others. It's as if they base their self-esteem
on being a follower of this philosophy, not on anything about their own
character or actions. To be comfortable saying "I don't know," or "I need to
think about that," one has to have a decent level of self-esteem — and a
decent level of honesty. That's what appears to be missing. What's involved
here is more than lack of "humility."
Q: You have expressed admiration for Dr. Sciabarra's book, Ayn Rand: The
Russian Radical. What do you see as the chief importance of this book?
Branden: He has brought Ayn Rand into the history of philosophy. He has
attempted to place her in a historical context. Whether or not he's right in all
his hypotheses is not the most important point. So far, his is the book most
likely to gain the interest of the academic community, and that interest is
essential if one is thinking long-range about the spread of Objectivism.
You've got to get the teaching of Objectivism into the universities.
Q: What do you think of Leonard Peikoff's Objectivism: the Philosophy of Ayn
Rand?
Branden: That book wouldn't influence anyone who was not already a
believer. There is no attempt to build a bridge from other perspectives to
Rand's. Very disappointing. Here is the first major non-fiction work to
introduce Objectivism to the world — and it's stilted, pedantic, totally non-
inspirational. No fire and no sense of joy. I had hoped for more from Leonard.
Observe that in the preface he gratuitously insults the academic community,
yet he wants that community's support, or else why would the book be
advertised in academic journals? So, like a person with an inferiority
complex, he beats the academics to the punch — rejecting them before they
can reject him. The book that this one started out to be still needs to be
written.
Q: Some thinkers — Doug Den Uyl, Doug Rasmussen, Chris Sciabarra —
have argued that Rand's view of man's life as the standard of moral value
entails more than mere survival but also entails the idea of "flourishing" —
something closer to the classic idea of "eudaemonism." What's your stand on
this?
Branden: You have to realize that when Rand spoke of "survival," she
intended that as synonymous with "the life proper to Man." She meant a
good deal more than merely not dying. She saw "survival" and "flourishing"
as inseparable. The example I sometimes gave to make this point clear went
like this. Imagine a man in an iron lung. He is not dead but clearly he is not
living "the life proper to Man." Such a life would have to entail the full and
proper use of his faculties. I wrote an article on this — I forget whether it
appeared in "The Objectivist Newsletter" or "The Objectivist." So the debates
I sometimes hear about between the "survivalists" and the "flourishers" have
never made sense to me, not in an Objectivist context.
Q: You have said on more than one occasion that while it may not have been
anyone's intention, there are aspects of Objectivism that encourage
repression and emotional self-alienation. At the IOS conference you read
passages from Rand's books to illustrate your thesis. How can a young
student protect against this error?
Branden: By always remembering that there is nothing heroic about
denying or disowning reality — including the reality of one's feelings. And —
dare I say this? — by studying my books. I have provided a badly needed
corrective in this area.
Q: For Objectivism to spread in our culture, what do you see as our most
urgent need?
Branden: More than anything, we need books and articles written either
about Objectivism or about other subjects from an Objectivist perspective.
We need to see more in print about Rand's philosophy and more about its
application to problems in a wide variety of areas. Study groups are fine,
conferences are fine, public lectures are fine — but the spread of ideas still
depends more on the written word than on anything else. And it's
disappointing how little has been written so far.
Personal Interests
Q: Is there any truth to the rumor that you have written several stage plays?
If so, do you ever plan to publish them?
Branden: What a pleasure to hear a rumor about me that's true. Yes, I have
written for the theater. No, I don't plan to publish; not good enough.
Q: Any plans to write a novel?
Branden: I've had it in my mind to do so for a long time. Other projects I
kept feeling I "must" write kept getting in the way. Right now, I'm working on
the outline of what looks to be a fairly big non-fiction book — an integration
of philosophy, psychology, culture, history, and political economy — but am I
absolutely certain I will write it, or write it next? Not really. I've surprised
myself too many times in the past.
But what is on my mind, some time in the next few years, is to write a novel.
There's a story idea that's preoccupied me for a long time. All I can say at
the moment is that it feels promising, feels right. I'm reluctant to make
forecasts because, you know, it often seems that the books choose me, I
don't choose them — I get this voice in my head saying, (of course I'm
speaking poetry here), "I don't care what your plans were, this is what you
must do next."
All I'm certain of is that as long as I'm alive and functioning, I'll be writing.
Apart from my marriage, working at my computer is the greatest single joy
of my life. Sometimes my wife Devers pops in on me when I'm writing, and I
look from the computer screen to Devers, and the back to the screen, and
then back to Devers, and I don't know how many times I've said to her, "I
don't know what anyone else wants out of life, or thinks life is about, but for
me, right here, right now, everything I ever wanted is in the room with me. I
feel completely fulfilled. All that's left to want is that this will go on for a very
long time."
Personal Reflections
Q: What's the biggest lesson you've learned so far in life?
Branden: I'd like to say, first of all, I hate being confined to the single most
important thing. Can I mention two?
Q: Okay, what are the two most important things you've learned?
Branden: Let yourself know and fully experience how important love is and
honor that importance in your actions. Don't ever be careless with love. Be
aware of the preciousness of each moment of your existence. Be aware that
none of us is immortal — the clock is always ticking and none of us knows
how long any of us has got. The time to let that other person experience how
loved and valued he or she is by us, is right now. It's one thing to love — and
quite another to have the wisdom and courage to live that love fully,
unreservedly, and to the hilt. Fully to surrender to love can be terrifying, but
it's the price life asks of us in exchange for the possibility of ecstasy.
Q: And your second message to the world?
Branden: Don't deny or disown what you see or experience merely because
you can't explain it, justify it, or fit it into some familiar frame-of-reference.
Allow a large space in your psyche to accommodate ambiguity and
uncertainty. Don't invent explanations prematurely just so you can tell
yourself you have the universe all tied up in one neat package. Keep your
eyes open, keep observing, and be confident that sooner or later the truth
will appear to you, providing, of course, you live long enough. And if you
don't, well, hasn't it been an interesting adventure anyway?