Objectivist Philosophy vs. Christian Religion

Why I'm an Objectivist

Why I'm an Objectivist

The purpose of this essay is to document my personal history with Objectivism. My intention here is not to prove the validity of Ayn Rand's philosophical system— though inevitably I will, at times, make a case for certain Objectivist ideas. In writing this I mostly hope to clarify my own intellectual development, while also encouraging non-Objectivists to pick up and read Ayn Rand's books. I would also be pleased if this paper motivated some fellow Objectivists to write their own stories for public consumption. Indeed, if you are interested in publishing your own pro-Objectivism biographical essay on this Web site, I invite you to contact me about it. But before you do that, let me first tell you why I'm an Objectivist ...

I. Discovering Objectivism

When I was a child my parents sent me to a Protestant Sunday school. In my memory, this period of my life stands out as the beginning of any significant exposure to religion. I recall attending classes with a few other kids. The teacher instructed our young, innocent minds to memorize Bible verses. If she taught us anything else—such as how to think for ourselves—it has long been forgotten.

After our weekly brainwashing session, we were then sent outside to wait in line for our juice and cookies. To this day I can't recall a single Bible verse that the teacher made me memorize, but I will never forget exactly how big and good those cookies were.

This Sunday school routine lasted for only a short time—maybe one summer. I don't remember why my parents stopped it. But, whatever their reasons, I'm glad they never sent me back to religious school. In fact, thereafter we did not attend church regularly—even though my parents remained Christians. Nor did anyone in my family push me into the habit of prayer. And thank God for that! For, every time I tried praying, I had to listen to my inner voice constantly chiding me, "This is so stupid. God has never answered your prayers. You're talking to yourself!"

In spite of my unimpressive formal exposure to the Christian way, I still ended up being deeply influenced by religious ideas. In fact, I grew up absolutely believing in and fearing God.

Throughout my teenage years, I thought that the invisible Lord was watching my every move. I began to think that I was probably going to Hell for my "immoral" habits. Indeed, the fate of my immortal soul became an increasing concern of mine. You see, there were some "immoral" habits that, as a maturing male, I simply found impossible to give up. Thus, having failed miserably at prayer, I routinely faced the conscious question: How do I atone for my ongoing life of sin?

In my junior or senior year of high school, the answer eventually came to me. I found myself entertaining fantasies of heroically sacrificing my life for the sake of someone else—usually a family member or loved one. I figured that such a monumentally selfless act would make up for my entire sinful past, and I would then earn a place in Heaven. There was, however, a major problem with this plan: I didn't want to die.

Soon I found myself coping with an even more perplexing and troublesome mental state. You see, even though I would dream about performing the ultimate and glorious self-sacrificial act, it was becoming clearer and clearer to me that I would never actually go through with it—even if the perfect opportunity presented itself to me. Thus, my eternal soul was heading straight for Hell. This, of course, was a great and terrifying concern. And it didn't help matters much that I found no clear-cut evidence for God's presence in my life—to say nothing of his existence in the world.

Suffice it to say that I continued in this increasing psychological anguish, sometimes entertaining half-baked thoughts of suicide, until one day in college when a friend invited me to a "philosophy" club meeting. Fortunately, I still took ideas somewhat seriously, and I was still searching for answers to some important questions of life—such as how to escape the emotional pain I was in. And so, I accepted the invitation.

Upon my arrival I quickly learned that it was not just a philosophy club. It was an Objectivist philosophy club, and that evening they were playing a video of Dr. Leonard Peikoff's speech Religion vs. America.

At the time I knew absolutely nothing about Objectivism. I had never heard of it. But that evening's experience radically changed the course of my life—for the better.

I don't know if I spoke to any members of the club that night—though I must have. All I remember is watching that videotape for over an hour and attentively listening to every word. Dr. Peikoff made the most interesting and amazing argument I had ever heard. He claimed that my belief system, my religion, was the enemy of reason and America. During the conclusion of his speech, he said:

There are many good people in the world who accept religion, and many of them hold some good ideas on social questions. I do not dispute that. But their religion is not the solution to our problem; it is the problem ... [I]t is time for patriots to take a stand—to name publicly what America does depend on, and why that is not Judaism or Christianity ...

It is time to tell people the unvarnished truth: to stand up for man's mind and this earth, and against any version of mysticism or religion. It is time to tell people: "You must choose between unreason and America. You cannot have both. Take your pick."

Afterward, while walking back to our apartment on campus, my friend asked what I thought of the speech. I considered the question for a moment, then replied: "That was the clearest and most rational thing I've ever heard in my entire life."

With that one speech, Dr. Peikoff sent a gleaming bolt of reality and rationality through my dark and frightening world—a world where the only choices were the false alternatives of God or Satan, faith or confusion, self-sacrifice or eternal suffering, and so on, and so on. In less than two hours Dr. Peikoff had given me an entirely new choice—one that made good sense to me. It was a real choice. He asked me to choose unreason or America. Reason or religion?

Within a week I had totally reconsidered my belief in God, and with a clear mind I chose reason. I became an atheist.

Subsequently a great weight of emotional pain gradually vanished from my being. Fear of the unknown and the supernatural was gone. The guilt of selfish pleasure and happiness—removed. My life's focus shifted from thoughts of self-sacrifice to thoughts of greater knowledge and personal improvement and gain. Through Dr. Peikoff I had discovered Objectivism, the philosophy of Ayn Rand. And now I was anxious to read all of Miss Rand's books and learn her revolutionary system of ideas.

[To be continued ...]