My Updated Treatise on the Epistemological Differences of Objectivism and Subjectivism, and a Discussion of the Infinite
By Ryan Ries


DISCLAIMER: The scope of this article is meandrous and its focus is less than razor-sharp. It is subject to revision and will surely be edited at any time.

For a brief and tidy introduction to Objectivism, click here.
For a brief and tidy introuduction to Subjectivism, click here.

This has got to be the most ambitious article I've undertaken to date. Indeed, it's too ambitious, because if you've been visiting my website for a while, you probably know that I've been grappling with this problem for many years. It's with great regret that I am still unable to present to you a perfect and tenable solution. From my perspective, it seems that for many people, the struggle I've been having for most of my adult life with the ideas of philosophical subjectivism versus that of objectivism isn't a problem at all. Perhaps it's a gap in my reasoning - a flaw in my intellect - which occludes from my perception the obvious answers that come so naturally to others. I much prefer, however, to imagine that there is still more to be said on the subject; a mortar with which to bind together all of the fragments that I've come across into my own coherent personal philosophy.

The only other person I know that is as fervent about this subject as I is an occasional reader of this website, although through some twist of fate, he and I have historically been on completely opposite sides of the fence. I will admit that I have since distilled my ideas significantly from my traditional view of strict subjectivism. (More on that later.) Looking back over the past few years, I've come to an important realization about myself: that I would often argue only for the sake of arguing, even when I didn't realize that's what I was doing. Basically, you could say I was lying to myself about what I really believed, without even being aware of it. On one hand, it brings a devilish smirk to my face, self-affirming my identification as a nihilist, even on the subconscious level - always questioning and attacking the ideas of others, even if it meant succumbing to my own intellectual dishonesty. But that's not really what I want. This article is not about nihilism, it's about finding the truth. And something within me compels me to assume that there is a truth to be found even though I can't be sure, and that I want to find it even though I don't know why, and then I want to share it with anyone who will listen.

1.) Truth - by definition - is universal, necessary, and certain, ergo an Objectivist concept.
2.) The path to truth is through knowledge.
3.) Truth is perfect (complete) knowledge.

Those three statements are a huge concession, coming from me. Unfortunately, I'm unable to "take it to the bank" quite yet however, because the very definitions of truth and knowledge have been contested for at least 2400 years, so the probability of me sorting it all out right here are exceedingly slim. Knowledge is the concept that gives me a hard time, so I'll have to formulate a couple more solid foundational assertions about it:

1.) Knowledge is completely separate from belief and/or opinion.
2.) Knowledge refers to that about which one can not be wrong.
3.) Knowledge is gained through experience, therefore Knowledge is our interpretation of experience, and assuming our experiences are filtered through our imperfect senses, is thusly imperfect.

Luckily, through science, we are able to go from experience, to formulating theories that contradict our experience. (The Sun looks like it's going around the Earth, no one can actually observe the planets moving in eliptical orbits instead of circular orbits, etc.) But my question is, how much knowledge must be acquired about a thing, before the absolute truth is known about that thing? Is all knowledge in principle, attainable? It is my belief that if the Universe scales to infinity in both the macroscopic and microscopic, then no, it is not possible to attain all knowledge. But more on modern physics later. For now, let's switch gears.

Objectivism. Oh, sweet Objectivism. Arduously did I attempt to stab you in the face and kick dirt into the wound. You really just rubbed me the wrong way, and in some ways, you still do. Now would be a good time to point out a distinctive difference between objectivity in general, and the philosophy of Objectivism. The ideas of objectivity as it pertains to reality has been around since the dawn of human thought, and I assume is the most natural way for us to interpret the world around us. It is possible to get a thorough education in objective philosophy and philosophers without the slightest mention of Ayn Rand. Objectivism is a relatively recent outlook on the Universe which encompasses not only metaphysics, but also has much to say about economical, ethical, and social affairs. In this essay, I'm trying to stay on the narrow path of ontology.

Part of my contempt for Objectivism starts with its loathesome mascot, the creator and champion of Objectivism:


Ayn Rand

There are several facets of Objectivism agaisnst which I feel I could lodge a legitimate argument, such as a laissez-faire economy, but to do so would constitute a digression from what the heart of this article is supposed to be: epistemological. As far as I can tell, the defining cornerstone of Objectivism is this:

A = A

On August 17, 2007, a reviewer of this article chimed in with a more accurate description of Objectivist Metaphysics:



In the past, I would actually try to argue against that simple equation. Now, its inescapable reality still looms over me like the alien ship from Independence Day after they tried to nuke it. I just can't argue with my perception, and that equation appears to describe reality perfectly. You could live a completely successful life within the framework of human society under the premise that A equals A - that an object has one and only one true identity. In fact, it may do you a lot of harm as a human being on planet Earth to stray too far from it. In subjectivity's defense, I used to bring up a story about Oedipus Rex, to everyone's chagrin. I won't be making that mistake here. On the surface, it appeared as though the Oedipus allegory was telling us that Oedipus' mother was not Oedipus' mother simply because Oedipus didn't know that she was. Well, that's a terrifically rediculous notion to which no sane man could subscribe. But the story does have one important thing to say:

A equals A, yes. But to call something "A" is to ascribe an objective identity to it. How can you identify something if you can never know all of its properties? Oedipus was calling this woman what he thought was "A" - and he was horifically wrong. He did not posess truth because he did not posess perfect knowledge. That does not refute the premise that A equals A, it still does, but what happens when the attributes of A are more complex than "is she my mother, or isn't she?"

Sure, Oedipus could have avoided his embarassing fate had he known just one more key property of this woman. Objectivism is the clear victor here, as one's knowledge or perception of something does not define or preclude its existence, or any aspect of it. Despite the fact that I can not tell if the moon exists or not until I have perceived it, there is no evidence or reason to believe that it does not.

Moving on from classic philosophy, a topic that I feel is very pertinent to the questions of objectivity versus subjectivity is modern physics.

Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle appears to me to be a perfect indication that it is not possible to have perfect knowledge about something. On extremely tiny scales, very significant properties of an object are unknowable. If an electron's spin on one axis is known, that electron's spin on the other axis can not be known. That is not to say we just don't have a precise enough instrument to measure it, I'm saying it is in principle unknowable. If it's velocity is known at a certain moment, it's exact position can not be known, and so on. We can, fortunately, formulate an idea of where it probably is, but nevertheless, this is an incredibly earth-shaking and profoundly strange notion for our scientific minds! "What do you mean I can never know?" And it's not as if these uncertain processes only affect the microscopic world - If you blow by a stop sign in your car going 90 miles per hour, and cross a speedtraps's beam at a precise location, you could be going anywhere from 89.999999999999999999999999999999999999 miles per hour, to 90.000000000000000000000000000000000001 miles per hour. It is literally not exactly knowable. Obviously, it may thus possible to attain a very, very, very, very good model of reality. But it is impossible to attain perfect and exact knowledge of reality. No matter how powerful our telescopes and microscopes get. It seems as though reality is destined to always be "fuzzy around the edges."

That does not refute the equation A = A as it pertains to epistomology. But I would still contest that truth - perfect knowledge - is unattainable. Most likely, we can get extremely close, but I can't be sure. I do not yet know how the uncertainty that appears to be ingrained into the fabric of reality applies to things we have not yet conceived of: be they too small, or too cosmically huge, or outside of the three dimensions of which we are familiar.

Your first reaction might be something like, "Who cares about the difference between 89.999999999999999999999999999999999999 miles per hour, and 90.000000000000000000000000000000000001 miles per hour. I mean, how could anything that we could ever care about be hiding in those miniscule details?" I asked myself this question, and it instantly conjured in my imagination a Mandelbrot fractal. At first glance, it looks like like an intricate, but definite shape. But then you zoom in on those "fuzzy edges," and you see that the rabbit hole never ends, and that its ability to store information never diminishes.

The next concept that both baffles me, and appears to be a large obstacle in the path of Objectivist thought, is the concept of infinity. This is where this essay is probably going to start getting really weird and ethereal. There is no proof that infinity exists at all, and in fact I believe most Objectivists reject the idea outright. Even mathematics, our most deductive language, wherein infinity can only be conceptualized, will probably never be capable of giving us solid evidence either for or against its existence in reality. The reason why the implications of a Universe where infinity exists would pose a problem to objective thinkers is because in an infinite Universe, the probability of everything becomes one hundred percent. In an infinite Universe, there is, somewhere out there, an exact copy of you, sitting in front of its computer on an exact copy of Earth, down to the last molecule on its toenail. In an infinite Universe, the "multiverse" theory would be unnecessary, as every moment in time that you experience is also happening somewhere else in an infinite Universe, and will live on in every other moment in eternity, past and future, as well as all other possible states of existence. I could babble on ad infinitum about what an infinite Universe might be like, but that discussion would be better reserved for when we are all heavily under the influence of psilocybin mushrooms.

Back to seriousness, this concept can be demonstrated in mathematics by the simple fact that infinity, once inserted into any equation, fails to yield any other solution except infinity (or negative infinity, whatever the hell that is.) In my personal experience in fact, many mathematics professors will refer to a solution of "Infinity" as "Does Not Exist."

But the problem with an infinite Universe is that it conceptually implodes on itself. The fantastic ideas of all things occuring at all times soon give way to the realization that in an infinite Universe, the probability that the Universe does not exist at all must also be given credence. As well as one being equal to two, as well as two things having an infinite number of identities. It all just melts into nonsense really, but I'm grateful to have the brainpower to contemplate it nonetheless.

So as a result, the scientific community, and most rational thinkers, proceed under the assumption that the Universe is finite. Elegant theories have arisen, postulating the Universe as bending back in on itself and all of that, which most of us can readily understand. But what about the beginning of the Universe? The Big Bang? Is it not said that the Big Bang "originated" from a point of infinite density? (As if "originated" has any meaning in that context.) There you go again, trying to put infinity back into the equation. But what have I said about putting infinity anywhere inside any equation? How can an infinite density give rise to a finite Universe?

Incidentally, I have the same question about black holes, as they are often said to have points of infinite density - singularities - at their centers. Now if black holes just had very, very, very, extremely dense centers, then I could understand. But is the density of the singularity of a black hole truly infinite? Because it seems to me that to produce something of infinite density would require either an infinite amount of matter, an infinite amount of energy, or both. And if the Universe is finite, it could never have contained that much energy or matter.

I want to end this particularly tenuous section of the article with what I perceive to be a victory for Objectivism. That is, a victory for those who see the Universe as being finite. Remember earlier I referred to the Universe as possibly being infinite in both the cosmic and the microscopic scales. Well, now the theories of one Max Planck have taken hold of the realm of physics, postulating that time itself can only be subdivided into so small of a unit. You may have heard of the "pop-sci magazine" description as the passage of time in reality behaving more like a film strip, containing divided frames. If in fact a measure of time can only be so short and no shorter, then we should be able to deduce from that the finiteness of our Universe, not only in time but in mass, size, and density, accordingly.