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1.

Like most of Malcolm Gladwell's writing, one can easily summarise the central points made into a paragraph or two. For example, in The Tipping Point, Gladwell investigates the reasons why some trends accomplish exponential trajectories, whilst others are left to sputter an unfashionable death. He posits three core principles which govern the 'tipping point' at which something like ordinary cured-pig-belly becomes The Bacon Bra and rockets to popularity. The Law of the Few, the Stickiness Factor, and the Power of Context all play a part in determining whether or not a particular trend will gain widespread popularity. 

Outliers can be summarised in much the same way. Gladwell's latest is the story of the successful, those that made it, and those that lie outside of every-day experience. Gladwell presents an abundance of anecdotes and evidence which act to drive home a series of critical necessities for 'successfulness'. Ones' IQ, date-of-birth, culture, a minimum of ten-thousand hours of focused practice, and the possession of impossibly good luck, are all characteristics of the outlier. It is an optimistic exploration of success and failure, and posits that the environment around us plays a much bigger role in our achievements than most of us think.

 Stereotypically perhaps, I recently became interested in, and eventually fond of the works of Ayn Rand, a novelist, screenwriter, playwright and philosopher. She seems to appeal to those in late adolescence, a time when one’s reasoning abilities and frontal lobes are still developing, and when one is particularly responsive to the idea that nothing is impossible with hard work. Her philosophies however, seem to directly contradict Gladwell’s findings.

 Ayn Rand was an Objectivist, because ‘existentialism was already taken’ — you can’t say Objectivists don’t have a sense of humour — and was in strong opposition to altruism, often labelling altruistic behaviours as ‘evil’. She advocated the position that one should proudly and legitimately acknowledge their own achievements and manifest their joy outwardly. Rand’s behaviour reflects these philosophies and she was not afraid to acknowledge her own successes or abilities. In one interview she states plainly that her success is the product of her own hard work. She did not call this selfishness, she called it self-esteem. This benefits those who wish to imitate the successful, giving people in the centre of the bell-curve an opportunity to see how success is created. It also gives the successful the opportunity to look like narcissistic wankers, if only for a moment. Anyone who has read The Fountainhead or Atlas Shrugged will undoubtedly have imbibed some of the Randian doctrine, which is perhaps best summarised in her collaboration with Nathaniel Brandon in The Virtue of Selfishness. 

 Gladwell’s conclusion, that success does not depend upon the actions of the individual, but instead on the environment around them, seems to directly contradict Rand’s self-accredited success and proclamation that the individual is solely responsible for their achievements. Gladwell aims to get away from the professions of grandeur that outliers so often express, and as Christopher Hitchens so beautifully put it, ‘it is quant and rather touching that there is in America, a movement that thinks that people are not yet selfish enough.’

As a test, I want to find out if Gladwell’s observations are applicable to Ayn Rand. Her story is almost as uplifting as the rise of Dagny Taggart through the ranks of Taggart Transcontinental, but I’m not entirely sure if her philosophies can be followed realistically — Nathaniel Brandon certainly had his doubts. 

2.

Ayn Rand was born Alisa Rosenbaum in February of 1905 in Czarist Russia, a horrible time to be born in all respects. She was born into an upper-class bourgeois family. At the age of six she taught herself to read. Rand’s father was a Chemist and ran a pharmacy. During her late-adolescence the Czar, Nicholas II, was disposed, and whilst she did support the interim Kerensky Government, when the Bolsheviks took over she expressed intense opposition. Unsurprisingly, the Bolsheviks had her father’s Chemist boarded up and he was told he would from that point forward be working for ‘the people’. The anti-statism that her environment must’ve bred, and her time spent growing up in Russia had a profound affect on the rest of her life and work. She would remain strongly opposed to any kind of collectivism.

She entered the University of Petrograd and studied philosophy and history. She graduated in 1924 and her love of Viennese operettas and Western films inspired her to enter the State Institute for Cinema Arts where she studied screenwriting. During her time there, her monograph of Polish hot-stuff Pola Negri was published.

Rand emigrated to the United States in 1926, managing somehow to sleep through the ferry ride past the Statue of Liberty. Unlike Rand, her family were unable to exile themselves from Russia, despite trying. As a member of a well-to-do bourgeois family, she made her way with ease, staying with relatives in Chicago. By that point in time she had accumulated a good nine or ten years of writing practice, pointing out in an interview with Tom Snyder that she would often write novels behind a propped up book at the back of class whilst in primary-school. She continued to write pamphlets, news articles, and after six-months in the country, having obtained an extension to her Visa, left for Hollywood to pursue screenwriting.

On her second day in Hollywood, Rand had an almost fairy-tale like chance meeting with Cecil B. DeMille, a film director with a reputation for ‘discovering’ or promoting the careers of many struggling or unknown actors. DeMille spotted Rand standing by the gates to his studio, and invited her to sit in on the filming of The King of Kings. DeMille then took Rand under his wing in a sense, and offered her a role as an extra on the filming, and later as a script reader. Whilst on the set, she met and fell in love with Frank O’Connor, whom she married in 1929.

Her first novel, the semi-autobiographical We the Living, was released in 1936 after being rejected by numerous publishers. In fact, the only reason it was released at all, was because an employee of the Macmillan Company threatened to quit if the book wasn’t published. It is quite clear that even at this very early stage in her career, she had obtained a very intense following. The Fountainhead was released in 1943 after being rejected by twelve publishers. It immediately became a best-seller through word of mouth. Atlas Shrugged was her last and arguably greatest work of fiction, and was published in 1957. The novel dramatised her Objectivist epistemology. She continued to publish and lecture on Objectivism, publishing her own periodicals between 1962 and 1976.

3.

Those early formative years were the equivalent to Bill Gate’ Lakeside — Ayn Rand is certainly no way near as ‘lucky’ as Bill Gates between the ages of 13 and 17; Gates is an outlier of an outlier in this regard — and I think it is fairly clear that Ayn Rand was presented with a series of unlikely opportunities to succeed. 

One: she was born into an well-to-do and well connected bourgeois family. How many people were well off and with the ability and contacts to emigrate during the Russian revolutions? Two: Rand had family in the United States, a country she idealised, who were willing to take her in. Three: wishing to move into screenwriting, she just so happened to bump into Cecil B. DeMille, who surprisingly took her under his wing. This kind of thing usually only happens in Disney movies or to Charlize Theron. Four: an employee of the Macmillan Company believed in Rand’s work so much that they were willing to put their job on the line to see that We the Living would be published. All of these chance events gave Rand the time to continue working on her craft, improving on the presumably ten-thousand hours or more she already had by the time she arrived on American soil.

In the end, I don’t think it would be fair to argue that Ayn Rand’s success was because of merely a series of unlikely events. She was obviously an incredibly motivated and intelligent human-being, and I’m sure that if I had the chance to sit down with her today and talk, she would be eloquent, articulate, persuasive, and quite attractive from the sounds of things. Her upbringing certainly left her with a determined attitude and a lot to say. It would be short-sighted to dismiss the impossibly lucky events and environment around Ayn Rand that helped shape her path and afford her the opportunity to practice. Lucky breaks, opportunity, family, culture, and hard work. In essence, I would disagree that Rand’s success was all her. She still remains in my opinion, quite a catch, and Gladwell's conclusions have proven to be applicable to most successful people.

4.

So where does that leave people who don’t, or never had the opportunity to work hard on something for ten-thousand hours? Well, becoming a lucky person might be a good place to start. The book was enough to convince me to never procreate dry until I’m in possession of large sums of money, and a partner that will ensure our nine-month investment has a high intelligence quotient. For the time being, I’m just going to cry into this pillow right here and wallow about my vanilla prospects.