Conversa­tions with Charles

ARI

Charles, let’s turn to your discussions with Miss Rand.

CHARLES

One that comes to mind is a discussion about white lies. It took place in the ear­ly morn­ing hours of that January 1, with the four of us—Ayn, Frank, Mary Ann, and me—sitt­ing around the din­ing room table.

ARI

Who raised it?

CHARLES

I did. I thought white lies were bad, but I couldn’t make a full argument against them. Ayn proceeded to explain. But, first, let me say that I raised the subject on the spur of the moment, think­ing that she would reserve a full discussion for a later time. However, she launched right in.

ARI

What did she say?

CHARLES

First she said that a white lie is un­der­stood to be a harmless fib told with good motives, usual­ly to protect the listener from bad news. But, she said emphatical­ly, it is not harmless; it is insidious. A white lie is worse than a straight-out lie because not on­ly is the element of fak­ing reality present, but the person to whom you are tell­ing the lie is thereby deemed by you incapable of fac­ing reality and needs protec­tion from it. That is, the person is deemed insufficient­ly ra­tional to accept a fact of reality and deal with it.

The example she gave was of the husband who has to have minor surgery and wants to spare his wife the worry. So, instead of tell­ing her the truth, that he is go­ing to the hospital as an outpatient, he tells her he is go­ing to play golf. That is the epitome of a white lie. After his treatment is over and he is fine, he tells his wife about the surgery. A wife who has any self-respect is justifiab­ly furious when she finds out the truth. She is angry that he considered her insufficient­ly stable to face up to whatever the present and the future might hold. Ayn said that a terrible consequence of his ac­tion is the un­der­min­ing of her confidence in him to be a truth­ful partner.

ARI

Did she elaborate?

CHARLES

Yes. She said it puts the wife in the posi­tion of not know­ing when he is be­ing truth­ful and when he is shield­ing her from the facts of reality. This will lead to estrangement and distrust.

ARI

Did she say how this situa­tion can be rectified?

CHARLES

First, by the husband ful­ly un­der­stand­ing the mean­ing of his ac­tion—what it says about him and his evalua­tion of his wife. He has to be convinced why it is wrong to tell white lies, and this will take some rethink­ing on his part. The wife has to know that he ful­ly un­der­stands the issue and more—how his white lie has affected her. Then, he has to pledge never to do it again, and live up to it.

She explained another possible outcome of the situa­tion. Suppose, she said, some­thing did go wrong dur­ing the surgery and the husband died. Not on­ly is the wife left to deal with the catastrophe, but she is also left to wonder, forever, why he was not truth­ful with her about the incident. And worse, she will wonder how many other times he wasn’t truth­ful. No matter how deep her love for him, her memory of him will always be marred by these doubts. She will feel let down in a fundamental way.

Ayn added that she did not mean to imp­ly, by us­ing the husband as an example, that wives don’t make the same mistake. But, more often, the husband sees himself in the role of protector and may be motivated to shield his spouse with a white lie.

In a proper marriage, she said, the wife (or husband) will want to know what difficulty has to be dealt with, and how best to deal with it. She will want to be there to aid and comfort her husband. A marriage, Ayn said, is a partnership, an equal partnership. And the vows about “in sickness and in health” are not idle words divorced from mean­ing or applica­tion.

As to the wife who wants to be protected with white lies, who wants her husband to build a buffer between her and reality—Ayn called her “an irresponsible child” and an “evader.”

ARI

How was she dur­ing a discussion? Did she tend to dominate, because of her knowledge?

CHARLES

Dominate? On­ly in the sense that she usual­ly had more to say than anyone else. She would not push or pull or pressure you. She would be quiet while you thought, and quiet while you spoke. She did not interrupt your thoughts. She let you speak it out, even though she was pretty sure where you were go­ing. She let you take all the steps you needed to make your point. You had a sense that whatever you said, you were un­der­stood, that you were be­ing listened to. If she saw that you were mak­ing a mistake in your reason­ing, she let you make that mistake. Then she analyzed the mistake at length, and she showed you what incorrect premises led you to the incorrect conclusion. In almost every discussion, there were two parts: the subject under considera­tion, and how my mind was work­ing.

ARI

You mean, “Check your premises”?

CHARLES

Yes, that was part of it. If you had a problem check­ing them, she helped you along.

ARI

Can you speak about another discussion?

CHARLES

There was one about surprise parties and what was wrong with them.

ARI

You raised this ques­tion?

CHARLES

Yes. Mary Ann men­tioned to me that the Collective had given Ayn a surprise dinner party to celebrate the publica­tion of Atlas Shrugged, and that Ayn was very annoyed and did not enjoy the party. Like most peo­ple, I grew up accept­ing surprise parties as fun events, and I was curious about Ayn’s attitude. So I brought it up one even­ing when we were there. Mary Ann had had a discussion with her on the issue some years earlier.

ARI

Miss Rand didn’t suggest that you ask Mary Ann?

CHARLES

No, that was not her policy. If a ques­tion was asked of her, she was the one to answer it. And she always held my con­text when explain­ing some­thing to me.

ARI

What do you mean?

CHARLES

Ayn un­der­stood that not every­one integrates knowledge in the same way and at the same rate, and she let my way and rate of un­der­stand­ing the issue be her guide. This put me at mental ease. I knew that there wouldn’t be any tension about keep­ing up with her. When Ayn explained an issue, she was explain­ing it to some­one.

ARI

What were her objec­tions to surprise parties?

CHARLES

I can give you a summary of what she said, not the progression. She had several objec­tions. First and foremost is that it puts the recipient in the posi­tion of hav­ing to sudden­ly switch his con­text and deal with an unplanned for, unexpected situa­tion. What, she asked, is the value in that? This is what we do in cases of emergency, she said. We shouldn’t be put in the posi­tion of do­ing it for a celebra­tion. She objected to be­ing “put in a posi­tion” by some­one else, of be­ing deprived of choice in the matter.

The giver mistaken­ly thinks that the shock of the surprise will be more appreciated than a planned-for party. On the contrary, she said. The recipient gets no benefit whatever from the surprise element. It adds no value over and above what would be derived from a planned-for occasion. Instead, it detracts from the value of the occasion, because the recipient is put in the posi­tion of be­ing a guest of honor and a host at the same time. He has to put his shock aside and greet peo­ple he had not expected to see (or perhaps not wanted to see), he is expected to be grate­ful to the party givers who study him for his reac­tions, he is expected to be gracious and charm­ing when he may feel annoyance, or anger, or overwhelmed by the situa­tion.

ARI

Did she say anyth­ing about the motives of the surprise party giver?

CHARLES

She said that the motives were bad if the party giver deliberate­ly made it a surprise affair because he knew the recipient would refuse a party if offered. If the recipient doesn’t want a party, then there shouldn’t be a party.

She made addi­tional points. The giver has no right to be the final unilateral authority on how anyone’s achievement is to be celebrated. And the giver has no right to be the sole arbiter to determine who the guests are. Most important, the giver has no right to be the one who determines how any even­ing out of the life of the recipient is to be spent. That’s up to the recipient.

Added to all this is that the recipient is deprived of the pleasure of anticipa­tion, which adds great­ly to the enjoyment of the celebra­tion.

ARI

But some peo­ple enjoy surprise parties, don’t they?

CHARLES

That may be. She couldn’t see any valid reason for them. But that’s some­thing the giver should find out in advance, if the pleasure of the recipient is the first considera­tion. And, she said, it should be.

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