The Real Meaning of "Natural Rights"

In the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, devotees of individual liberty rightly became concerned about the kinds of drastic restrictions that were placed on our personal and economic freedoms. Is such interference with freedom ever justified? If so, what restrictions are excessive? And how long should they remain in force?

There are no easy answers to such questions. But they do raise broader and more fundamental questions about the nature and meaning of “rights.”

Some people object to any restrictions on individual freedoms, even during emergencies, seeing them as violations of their fundamental individual rights. That objection usually arises from the traditional view of individual rights, as being “natural” and/or “God-given” in origin. By this view—broadly accepted by most conservatives, libertarians, and even Objectivists—individual rights are elements or aspects of human nature itself. They are “intrinsic” or “inherent” parts of human beings; thus, they are “absolute” and may not be abridged or curtailed by anyone, at any time, for any reason—not even in an emergency.

This belief—that rights are intrinsic to human nature, and thus immutable and inviolate “by nature”—owes its appeal among liberty lovers to their justifiable fear of socially subjective theories of rights. This latter view, promoted by the political left, holds that rights are merely grants from some authority figure or from “society,” which confer special privileges, freedoms, goods, or services upon designated individuals. Viewing a right as a socially granted privilege implies that the source of rights is the granting authority. That, in turn, implies that the granting authority—whether it is a king, dictator, or social majority—is morally and legally entitled to exercise unlimited dominion over individuals. It means that individuals may act only by the authority’s permission.

But equating “rights” with “permissions” negates the very meaning of rights. To act “by right” means to act autonomously, without further permission. A right is a moral-legal entitlement—not a social permission slip.

It is therefore understandable that lovers of liberty would reject the left’s bogus interpretation of rights as socially subjective and instead seek some objective basis for the concept. Since the days of John Locke, those freedom-lovers of a secular bent have tried to ground the concept of rights in nature itself; those of a religious bent argue that individuals’ rights are “endowed by their Creator.”

But both err in thinking that their respective approaches provide the concept of rights with an unassailable, objective foundation.

Let me state up front that I believe the concept of rights does have an objective basis in certain facts of human nature. However, while my perspective draws from Ayn Rand’s seminal writings on this topic, I don’t believe the presentation she offered in her essay “Man’s Rights” (Ch. 12, The Virtue of Selfishness, November 1964) distinguishes her view unambiguously from traditional “natural rights” theories. And I do not accept theories of “natural rights” or “God-given rights” as they almost always are expounded.

First, the “God-given rights” view is problematic, not only because it reduces claims of rights to mere articles of faith, but also because I don’t believe there is any biblical reference to a concept or principle of “individual rights” that supports such claims by religious believers. Such assertions are, at best, shaky interpretations that believers have merely inferred from cherry-picked passages or ideas in the Bible, then inflated in meaning and elevated in status to become religious doctrine. Even a devout Christian ought to find such interpretations disturbingly arbitrary—especially when elaborated into full-blown theories of rights nowhere in evidence in their Bible. One does not successfully counter the left’s subjective notions of rights by offering, in their place, equally subjective appeals to faith.

That said, I want to focus at greater length upon the broader, more inclusive claims that “natural rights” are essences or elements of human nature itself. I do not accept that view, either. For me, rights are not aspects or parts of nature, or some sort of essences that exist in or arise from human nature.

Rather, I hold that rights are objectively derived moral principles.

What do I mean by that?

To illustrate: Does something called “honesty” exist in nature, as a kind of actual thing? Of course not. Honesty is an abstract moral principle, devised by men to govern certain kinds of actions. However, this moral principle is not subjective or arbitrary: It is rooted in objective facts. What facts? These: To survive and thrive, we humans must face reality—that is, face facts, and deal with them. Likewise, to survive and thrive within a human society, we must be truthful with each other. Why? Because civilized society rests upon mutual trust, and mutual trust rests in turn upon our honesty with each other. Without honesty and trust, all the values we gain from social relationships are threatened and undermined. If dishonesty and mistrust become the norm, civilization unravels. So, there is an objective, fact-based, life-serving need for us to uphold the moral principle of honesty—to root our social relationships in facts, not in fantasies, lies, and deception. It is therefore in our own natural best interests to uphold that principle firmly and consistently, as a “moral absolute” in normal circumstances.

But not in all circumstances. For instance, you don’t owe honesty to a criminal or dictator who is trying to harm you by force. The principle of honesty serves a vital purpose: It is meant to further our lives and well-being in social interaction. That principle can’t be applied unilaterally, in circumstances where our lives and well-being are being threatened by those who don’t recognize the principle of honesty—or any other moral principles—and who would use our honesty against us. Exercised unilaterally, honesty would assist aggressors and thus become a threat to our lives and well-being.

Here’s the point: We don’t live in order to practice honesty; we practice honesty in order to live. Abstract moral principles exist to serve our lives; our lives do not exist to serve abstract moral principles. The latter is a “platonic” view of principles—a view of principles as ends in themselves, rather than human life as an end in itself.

The same goes for the moral principle of individual rights. Like honesty, rights are not things that exist somewhere in Nature. They are moral principles, devised by men, but rooted in objective facts. What facts? These: To create and then survive and thrive in a human society, we need to view and respect each individual as an end in himself—not as sacrificial prey for others. Why? Because a predatory, kill-or-be-killed society is to no one’s long-term best interests. So, to avoid reverting to primitive savagery, we must recognize, as basic principles of social morality, that each individual has a moral right to live for his own sake (the right to life); a moral right to take non-predatory actions to further his life (the right to liberty); and a moral right to transform the resources of nature into the products he requires to sustain his life, including the right to keep, use, and/or trade such creative products with others (the right to property).

In other words, the moral purpose of the concept of rights is to establish essential moral boundaries among people, so that within his own personal boundaries each sovereign individual may act freely to support his own existence, well-being, and happiness. (This is what I understand Ayn Rand to have meant in her essay “Man’s Rights” when she defined a “right” as “a moral principle defining and sanctioning a man’s freedom of action in a social context.”)

That is the “natural,” objective source of the moral principles we call “rights.” And we need to hold these principles firmly and consistently, too, as “moral absolutes” in normal circumstances.

But again, not in all circumstances. For example, no concept of—or need for—“rights” would ever arise in the mind of a Robinson Crusoe living alone on a desert island, because there are no others present who could pose a threat to him, or argue with him about food and shelter and land boundaries. The moral issue of rights arises only in social relationships: only when other people are around to dispute or transgress upon the protective moral boundaries between and among individuals.

Also, the principle of rights cannot apply during catastrophes that break down all civilized boundaries and institutions—such as a war, when invading enemies transgress all boundaries and threaten all lives. Warfare is a crisis circumstance in which rights are under such direct and dire assault that they can no longer be applied and exercised by the combatants, and often by those caught in the crossfire. During such chaotic emergencies, the only moral mandate for those under attack must be to stop the aggressors, to end or escape the emergency situation, and to restore the moral order and normal civilized life. At such times, when the survival of the entire civilized framework of rights is at stake, it may temporarily become necessary for the defending forces to take drastic actions that transgress the rightful boundaries that normally apply among individuals—such as sending the defending army across private property to engage enemy forces, or enforcing curfews, or risking collateral harm to non-combatants by bombing the enemy. Horrible as these things are, the alternative is morally unthinkable: to let the aggressor prevail to harm and enslave all. The only options, then, are among degrees of short-term or long-term harm to individuals; and the ultimate long-term moral objective is to minimize and end that harm. So, the morally proper course for the defenders is to terminate the threat as quickly as possible, in order ultimately to restore and protect the rights of the threatened individuals.

I see the same principle applying during a deadly epidemic. In a situation where a potentially lethal virus is spread rapidly by individuals through normal socializing, it may become necessary—temporarily—to impose rational social restrictions in order to get the disease under control, or suppressed to at least a manageable level. Nobody has a “right” to engage freely in conduct that poses an unreasonable risk of harm to others. And during a deadly epidemic, that’s exactly what normal social behavior does. This does not mean a total, long-term lockdown of society, which would cause its own catastrophic harm and death. But prudent, temporary requirements, such as “social distancing,” wearing face masks in certain public areas, and short-term closures of places where people congregate, make sense—again, only until the disease is brought under manageable control (e.g., sufficient medical supplies and tests are available, hospitals and emergency services are no longer overrun, etc.).

To sum up: “Rights” are not arbitrary social privileges and subjective conventions; nor are they elements, aspects, or metaphysical essences existing within nature itself. What we call “natural rights” should be understood instead as moral principles, defined and applied by men, but arising from our identification of the objective, factual requirements of human nature in social relationships. To survive and thrive in society, we humans require moral boundaries to protect us from predatory aggression and to resolve disputed property claims peacefully. Rights are the moral principles we employ to establish such moral boundaries between and among individuals.

We can debate exactly how such principles apply, or where and when emergency conditions arise that might require temporary exceptions. But this view of the basis and meaning of objective natural rights is, I believe, rationally defensible. And it establishes firm moral-legal barriers to stop would-be predators, tyrants, and mobs.

(Copyright 2020 by Robert Bidinotto. All rights reserved.)

Am I Still an "Objectivist"?

As a college freshman way back in 1967, I became enamored of the novels and ideas of Ayn Rand. In the decades since, my writing and speaking has been influenced in profound ways by that late philosopher and novelist's fertile mind and artistic sensibilities. I also held positions in various organizations and publications promoting her work.

During those years, I referred to myself by the name she gave to her philosophy. I was an "Objectivist" and I promoted "Objectivism."

But I no longer use those terms in self-description. Nor am I involved in any Objectivist organizations, publications, or "movements." For anyone interested, I'd like to explain precisely why, and where I now stand.

Without getting into complicated specifics, my essential philosophical ideas have not much changed, as anyone reading my nonfiction or fiction would quickly realize. The Randian influence is deep and unmistakable. 
 
However, my views about the validity, usefulness, and desirability of a formal movement of "individualists" who are organized in ideological groups and hierarchies, which are run and policed by designated "representatives" or "intellectual heirs" (including self-proclaimed ones), have changed, and radically. In fact, even during the years I was mired within the "movement," I argued against any such organizational structures, as being in contradiction with the substance of individualism. (For example, if you can find a copy, in a recorded lecture, "Organized Individualism? Building the Objectivist Community.")

Anyone who takes seriously the lessons of Rand's novel The Fountainhead would have to reject any such creature as an "organized Objectivist movement." (For those familiar with the novel: Can you imagine its individualist hero, Howard Roark , subjugating himself as a "member" or "follower" or even "student of Objectivism"?) For some years, Ayn Rand allowed such an organized movement to be established to promote her philosophy; it was called the Nathaniel Branden Institute. It later imploded disastrously -- ostensibly because of personal issues between herself and its founder, but actually because of the issue of "intellectual representation." 

Rand had designated the eponymous head of NBI as her "intellectual heir and representative," her public spokesman and champion -- the supposed embodiment of her ideas. In practice, that meant he was a professional yes-man, required to perfectly reflect and champion her ideas -- not his own. That inevitably proved to be untenable: A philosophy of individualism cannot be promulgated as a dogma. Yet the nature and structure of an organization aiming to perfectly embody somebody's entire philosophy -- to the letter and without deviation -- mandates and encourages dogmatism.

If you read Rand's own published statements in the immediate wake of the NBI debacle, you'd see that she learned that lesson explicitly. She wrote that she always had been dubious about an "organized movement of Objectivists" and never wished to be the head of one, let alone forced into the role of trying to police "misrepresentations" of her philosophy. She also -- again explicitly -- stated she would never again authorize or endorse any such Objectivist organization. But she was barely cold in her coffin before a new, self-proclaimed "intellectual heir" (never and nowhere did she ever designate him as such) declared that, with her death, that restriction no longer applied. He then created an organization, the Ayn Rand Institute, which essentially mirrored the disastrous approach of NBI.

I participated for a long time in a different, competing Objectivist organization, one that positioned itself as hostile to the notion of any intellectual gurus, hierarchies, and dogmas. But I still found the core problem had not been effectively addressed -- because it began with the label of the philosophy itself.

Ayn Rand had developed her personal philosophical system and slapped a label on it, one in which she also declared a proprietary interest: "Objectivism." This put her admirers in a moral quandary. Were only those who agreed with Rand's every significant utterance "Objectivists"? Or could one call himself an "Objectivist" if he agreed with most of her philosophical essentials, but disagreed with her on this or that specific application or inference? And if the latter, where, exactly, did one draw the lines?

Years (and may I say, lives) have been wasted in an absurd tug-of-war among individuals and organizations over the "moral right" to use Rand's invented label in self-description. People have built their entire self-esteem (and careers) upon that "Objectivist" title; upon their "loyalty" to specific utterances and positions of Rand's (and those of her self-appointed, posthumous interpreters); and upon whether or not particular notions are "essential" to Objectivism. The determination of what is and isn't "essential" is completely arbitrary and subjective, ranging from the utterly dogmatic ("Objectivism is everything and only what Rand wrote and said of a philosophical nature") to the utterly relativistic (e.g., notions by various self-proclaimed "Objectivists" who equate that term with moral and political views Rand herself loathed and denounced).

I saw that the basic error of Rand -- as an advocate of independent judgment and individualism -- had been to ascribe a label to her personal philosophy (with all its countless implications), but then try to limit and restrict its "authorized" use by others...unless they conformed completely to every dotted "i" and crossed "t" of her own interpretation. Understandably, she imposed these restrictions about use of the label lest others publicly "misrepresent" her and damage her reputation. Yet this put sincere admirers in an impossible position: either slavishly nod and parrot Rand's every utterance, or abandon the label "Objectivist." If the former, then being an "Objectivist" means being a dogmatist -- which contradicts the individualist epistemological and moral basis of the philosophy. If the latter, though, then the only real "Objectivists" are those who abandon the label, in order to preserve their own intellectual independence and moral integrity.

Absurdly, five decades after they first arose, these debates continue to rage throughout the small and insular Objectivist subculture. Nearly a decade ago, I happily abandoned that subculture and its baggage. At my age, life had become far too short to remain mired in such pointless and preposterous preoccupations. To what end? Will the "winners" of the rhetorical battles swell their chests with pride that they -- and only they -- are the "true Objectivists"? Will that have the slightest substantive impact upon the course of their lives, let alone upon the course of the world outside their skulls?

Finally, from a personal, practical, and professional standpoint, using the shared label also meant having to constantly, publicly disavow a multitude of idiots and scoundrels masquerading as "Objectivists," and bizarre notions advanced as "Objectivism." Sadly, that included some of Rand's own private foibles and erroneous ideas. Like the "Scarlet Letter," the label has become a way for ideological enemies to employ "guilt by association" smears, linking the decent people using it to odious others, and to their dubious views. I have no time or interest in answering for the private quirks and weird ideas of total strangers, with whom I would be lumped by a shared, artificial label, but very little else.

As a principled individualist, I answer only for myself. (And I use the term "principled individualist" purely descriptively, and not capitalized.)

I cannot tell you how relieved and liberated I have felt for the past decade to be light years removed from "the Objectivist movement," and from its unproductive distractions. I remain proud of many things I accomplished during my years of involvement in that movement. But I wasted way, way too much time myopically mired in a silly, rhetorical tug-of-war over an unimportant label.

So, I no longer use the label "Objectivist." I neither have nor seek any affiliations or involvement with organs of "the Objectivist movement" -- which is "moving" nowhere, and which is an oxymoron, if you take seriously the point of The Fountainhead. I leave such petty preoccupations to those with far more years left to fritter away.

If you wish to label me anything, try my name.

Likewise, if you want to argue with my ideas, try arguing with mine -- not Ayn Rand's, or Leonard Peikoff's, or David Kelley's, or anyone else you care to name.

Independence Day 2016

Note: I posted this on my Facebook page on July 4, 2016. I neglected to post it here, but I would like to give this message a greater permanence than a passing comment on social media. Here was my message:

I AM TAKING THIS MOMENT to remember and honor what too many have forgotten: the idea that makes America unique in the history of the world. That idea -- embedded in our founding documents and defended with the blood of countless patriots -- is individualism. It is the moral principle that the individual is an end in himself, and not a sacrificial pawn of kings, dictators, legislative bodies, "majorities," or collective Society itself. And as a moral end -- not a mere means to the ends of others -- the individual has inviolate rights to his own life, and to the liberty to peacefully pursue his own happiness. Our Declaration of Independence celebrated not just an independence of colonies from another faraway country, but something far more profound: the independence of the individual from the forcible interference of others, no matter how great their number or "need."

That was the revolutionary idea underlying the American Revolution. Never before in the history of the world had that principle been recognized by any other nation or group -- which is why the history of the world is one of chronic, blood-soaked barbarism of man against man. The American conception of individual rights created the original "safe space": a moral barrier around each individual, a barrier against the force, fraud, and coercion of his fellow man. It declared him to be sovereign within that safe space, as long as he, in turn, did not use force, fraud, or coercion against others.

This idea -- even grasped and implemented imperfectly -- led to the creation of the greatest, most prosperous, most progressive (and I mean that word in its literal sense) society and economy in the history of the world. It created more opportunities for more people, higher living standards, and -- yes -- greater happiness than any society anywhere, at any time. America became a beacon of freedom and hope that beckoned to millions around the world, millions who uprooted themselves, crossed vast oceans, and came here with nothing in their pockets -- just for the chance to "make something of themselves."

America was the home of the self-made individual. It was a place where anyone could literally make and remake himself, becoming whatever he wished, without interference. All because of the principle upon which the nation was established: that the individual was a moral end in himself.

Barbaric tribalism is the default position of humanity. It is what happens quite automatically when the sovereignty of individuals is not respected and enshrined into law. Gang warfare is what happens when the social barrier to mutual exploitation -- the principle of individual rights -- is obliterated.

If we are now seeing a horrific, headlong reversion to barbarism -- abroad and here -- it's because generations of "intellectuals," chafing against legal limitations on their power over unruly individuals, have declared all-out war on the philosophy of individualism at the heart of the American project. They have looked at the achievements of individuals and proclaimed "You didn't build that!" and that "It takes a village," instead. They have glorified dictatorial philosophies and praised the thugs that imposed them on their societies. They have enabled, ignored, and rationalized inhuman savagery against millions of individuals. They have obliterated the idea that the individual is a moral end, in order to reduce him to a helpless means to their ends.

On this Independence Day, as we have fun with our friends, eat our hot dogs, and enjoy our fireworks, can we please pause to remember (if we were ever taught it) the true nature of the "independence" bequeathed to us by our ancestors? Can we grasp, if only for a single fleeting, quiet moment, the moral principle that made America distinctive, and then great? Can we soberly re-dedicate ourselves to that principle, and -- following the example of those who spilt blood for it -- vow to weave it anew into the fabric of our society and laws?

If you lack the self-esteem to do that for yourself, then do it for your spouse, or your kids. Or in memory of those heroes before us, who gave their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor so that their ungrateful children could enjoy lives better than their own.