The Sigh of the Self-Made Man: Or, How an Objectivist Philosopher Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Welfare State (For Other People)

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  Look, I’m no philosopher. But even I know that when a self-proclaimed disciple of Ayn Rand starts sounding like the guy at the cocktail party who just discovered socialism after one too many mimosas, something’s gone sideways. And that something is usually the same thing that’s gone sideways with most of us at one point or another: the gap between what we say we believe and what we actually do when the rent comes due.

  Let’s call our hero Dr. Randian McAtlas. Tall, probably owns a cape for dramatic effect, hair like he’s been electrocuted by pure reason. He’s read Atlas Shrugged the way other people read the Bible—dog-eared, highlighted, and occasionally shouted from street corners. Individual rights! Reason! Self-interest properly understood! No unearned anything, ever. The looters and moochers must be kept at bay. The mind is the ultimate weapon. Taxation is theft. Got it. Solid. I’m with you, Doc. Up to a point.

  The point where I start squinting is around page 47 of his latest Substack (or whatever the Objectivist equivalent of a Substack is—probably a manifesto carved into a gold tablet). Because suddenly, Dr. McAtlas is out here advocating open borders. Not “sensible immigration reform with vetting and assimilation.” Not “let’s have a debate about the proper role of government in screening who gets to join the greatest engine of human flourishing in history.” No. Full throttle: anyone who shows up gets in. No questions. No standards. Just come on down, the water’s fine, and if you drown trying, well, that’s your initiation fee.

  Now, why does this strike me as funny? Because it’s the philosophical equivalent of the husband who preaches fiscal responsibility but hides the credit card statements in the sock drawer. Open borders as the ultimate expression of individual rights? Buddy, have you met the individuals who are already here? The ones who built the roads, the hospitals, the schools, the property values, the entire latticework of civil society that makes “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” something more than a nice bumper sticker?

  I picture Dr. McAtlas in his impeccably rational study, surrounded by busts of Aristotle and maybe a small shrine to John Galt’s bank account. He’s typing furiously: “The right to movement is paramount. Borders are collectivist fictions imposed by the state to violate the individual’s freedom of association!” Beautiful. Poetic. Almost makes you forget that the guy next door just had his garage broken into for the third time by people who didn’t exactly fill out the paperwork. But hey, property rights are sacred… unless enforcing them would require, you know, enforcing anything that sounds vaguely like a collective decision. Then it’s suddenly icky.

  This is where the comedy writes itself. Objectivism is supposed to be this laser-focused, no-compromise, check-your-premises-until-your-eyebrows-fall-off philosophy. Introspection is mandatory. Honesty is non-negotiable. Independent thinking means you don’t let the tribe tell you what to think. So how does our hero square that with suddenly going full “no human is illegal” while the citizen whose taxes fund the emergency room, the public defender, and the strained welfare apparatus is left holding the bag?

  It’s like if Frank Barone from Raymond decided to become a libertarian but kept demanding Debra cook for the whole neighborhood because “charity is a personal virtue, not a government mandate—now pass the meatballs, and tell the moochers they can have seconds.” The contradiction is so glaring it could direct traffic.

  Here’s my theory, and it’s not even that original: it’s the ultimate avoidance mechanism. Introspection is hard. Really looking at the trade-offs of mass low-skilled immigration—wage suppression for the working class, cultural cohesion issues, the sheer mathematical reality of finite resources and infinite demand—is messy. It requires data, nuance, and the terrifying possibility that your pristine principles might need some real-world adjustment. Much easier to stay up in the ether of pure reason. “The individual has the right to cross the border!” End of discussion. No need to ask whether that individual intends to respect the rights of the individuals already on this side. Details, details.

  Honesty? Forget it. Admitting that a nation without borders isn’t a nation but a giant hotel with no checkout policy might force our philosopher to grapple with the fact that rights don’t enforce themselves. They require a specific people, in a specific place, with a specific culture that values them. Independent thinking? Please. This is groupthink dressed in a toga. It lets him signal intellectual superiority to the proles who worry about schools overrun and hospitals jammed, while never having to confront the uncomfortable empirical reality that not every culture produces the same outcomes, and not every newcomer arrives ready to sign the social contract in blood.

  I can hear the counter now: “But Steve, you’re being tribal! Rand said altruism is evil!” Yeah, and she also didn’t live in a country where the government was already running the biggest redistribution scheme in human history while simultaneously declaring its own borders optional. Principles in a vacuum are easy. Principles when your neighbor’s kid can’t get into the gifted program because resources are stretched thinner than the plot of a bad sitcom—that takes guts.

  Dr. McAtlas will tell you he’s being consistent. I say he’s doing what we all do when the mirror gets too clear: changing the subject. Open borders becomes the intellectual escape hatch. It lets him avoid the hard work of defending the actual rights of actual citizens without sounding like one of those icky nationalists. Life, liberty, and property for thee… but first, let’s dissolve the conditions that make them possible. It’s almost elegant in its absurdity. Like building a fortress of reason and then leaving the front gate wide open with a sign that says “Looters Welcome—Just Don’t Call It Looting.”

  Look, I’m not here to solve immigration policy. I’m a comedy writer. My expertise is in sighs, separate bathrooms, and the exquisite pain of watching a man realize he’s been hoist by his own ideological petard. But if you’re going to preach the sanctity of the individual, maybe start by protecting the individuals who are already signing the checks. Otherwise, you’re not an Objectivist. You’re just another guy with a fancy philosophy who’s really good at avoiding the tough parts. Fade out on Dr. McAtlas sighing loudly while the looters redecorate.

  The end. Or, as Galt would say if he were watching this particular train wreck: “Who is John Galt? Apparently, not this guy.”