Bioshock VS Ayn Rand ultimate showdown
There seems to be near unanimous consensus that Bioshock 1 and 2 are comments on the fiction and theories of Ayn Rand – and especially those in her colossal treatise thinly disguised as the novel Atlas Shrugged. It’s partially true: Bioshock is a counterargument to Rand, but only within the boundaries established by Atlas Shrugged. It might be a comment, but it’s not a very good critique.
It’s not hard to see why people make the connection between Bioshock and Rand. While the world of Atlas Shrugged revolves around the struggles of elite industrialists who eventually prove they hold the fabric of the world together, Rapture’s elite do just the opposite. Their selfish pursuits tear the city apart and plunge it into civil war. While Rand is a fierce proponent of personal freedoms, Rapture is a playground for those freedoms that has descended into hell. In case that’s not enough, Bioshock 1’s hero/villain is actually named Atlas. There are more similarities. Andrew Ryan, pseudo-protagonist, is a play on Ayn Rand’s name. There are many, many more.
Rand’s story focuses on the struggles of intelligent, attractive, and successful inventors and entrepreneurs. Despite their talents, they find their efforts consistently blocked by forces of government and society – which clearly don’t appreciate the contribution they make and underestimate what they could do with a little more freedom. They become so frustrated that they go on Strike – mysteriously disappearing without a word. The original title of Atlas Shrugged was actually The Strike, so named for this precise event.
Without the superproductive superintelligent superattractive, the world falls to pieces and thrashes about in directionless, apocalyptic agony. Finally convinced that the world is now ready for their return, Rand’s supercapitalists come back to recreate and govern the world – heralding their arrival by scrawling a massive totemic dollar sign in the sky (literally). The superficial argument is simple. The selfish actions of the economic elite benefit the world – and so should be left unrestrained.
Bioshock is an unabashed counterpoint. A world created by a single superawesome Randian – Andrew Ryan – brings new promise and new discovery beyond any expectation. But the selfish actions of other talented, intelligent entrepreneurs tear the world apart. The message is that the economic elite are not always as inadvertently benevolent as Rand suggests – indeed every Randian ubermench you encounter in the game (other than Ryan) is a villain of fantastic proportions. The final moments of Bioshock 1, when the player is handed the key to the city, underline the fact that the powerful elite (whose ranks the protagonist has now joined) cannot be trusted to choose a path that is for the good of those around them. They could just as easily prove to be genocidal terrorists. Simple, right? (Also, how much does it suck that you don’t get to take over the world in BS2?).
Just like Rand’s narrative, Rapture’s stories are of the extreme type. Its villains are evil as they get, lives of the citizens of rapture are as bad as you can imagine, and it’s impossible to find a middle ground.
Bioshock is a relatively direct critique of the central theme of Atlas Shrugged, not to mention some strong links to The Fountainhead that really get going in Bioshock 2. But it misses major problems in Rand’s work. For starters, Atlas Shrugged paints the world in terrifically monochrome black and white. It is difficult to see real connections between Rand’s work and the real world for exactly this reason. I believe it was a mistake on her part, a mistake that Bioshock emulates. Just like Rand’s narrative, Rapture’s stories are of the extreme type. Its villains are evil as they get, lives of the citizens of rapture are as bad as you can imagine, and it’s impossible to find a middle ground.
Second, Rand drew a class of protagonists without weakness. By making her heroes inaccessible, their good deeds become distant. It’s hard to image anyone being inspired and strengthened by her heroes – in my experience fans of Atlas Shrugged usually end up with twin senses of entitlement and indignity, and an excuse to act annoyed at having to pay taxes and put up with liberals. Finally, one of the most disturbing elements of Atlas Shrugged is its complete absence of children. Despite the many attempts of its protagonists (looking at Rand’s haircut you would guess she can’t write bodice-ripping fluidfests, but hey, there they are), no child is born, no mother cares for her children, and only the abstracted and romanticised childhoods of superhumans is offered. Even at ten years old, they act with atypical distance and maturity. It’s impossible to shake the feeling that Rand denies real childhood to all of her characters. They are, essentially, sterile. They are more intelligent and more beautiful than any of ‘us.’ They are powerful and wield the power to destroy and remake the world. They are perfect — more like gods than men.
By sculpting extreme personas and arming them with the immortalising and all-empowering ADAM and EVE, Bioshock’s villains are equally inaccessible. As before – instead of critiquing this flaw, Bioshock adopts it for use in its own story.
Problems aside, Bioshock has a lot to say, commenting on everything from free will to abstract art to gender based power relationships. Between Lamb’s antics and Fontaine’s megalomania, the series covers the gamut and reflects on everything from transhumanism to sacrificing morality for political goals. Many of these tidbits were concealed in audio diary recordings – brief notes that were so interesting that I sent Delta and Jack to many grisly deaths attempting to retrieve them.
The point is that neither narrative sends a believable message, and both of them belong miles underwater.
It’s true that Bioshock critiques the main motif of Atlas shrugged. But in doing so it makes all the same mistakes. It paints a world in sunbleached black and white, where little sisters are saved or killed, where Ayn’s elite industrialists are good or corrupt, and consequently, where there is no hope of making a social or political argument that is meaningful outside of the world of Ayn Rand. So yes – Bioshock presents a counterargument to Atlas Shrugged. But in doing so it restricts itself as a political medium, and falls victim to the same crippling errors that mar Ayn Rand’s philosophy. The point is that neither narrative sends a believable message, and both of them belong miles underwater.
So let’s stop talking about Bishock as a critique of Rand and see it for what it is: A dystopian tale that participates in a discussion with Rand’s philosophy. It should also be noted for its references to George Orwell’s 1984, cultural references to the fourties and fifties, the Book of Genesis, and of course to its self-proclaimed spiritual predecessor, System Shock 2.
Allow me to introduce a new word to your vocabulary: parody.
I like Lorenzo Wang’s (my.opera.com) alternative ending:
“As Atlas lies defeated before Jack, you are given a minute to choose to kill him or save him while he utters the last words “Would you kindly save me?” Failing to choose and he dies. Choosing to let him to die carries out revenge fantasies for “the good guys.” Choosing to save him means doing his bidding. Which choice you consider to be truly free will always be subjective.”
The games ridicule any concept taken to the extreme by posing the outcomes as dystopian – whether it’s freedom or the common good. I have trouble seeing the games as a parody – there’s extrapolation, there’s commentary, but there is little ridicule and irony. What’s there is can just as easily be seen as sincere narrative as it can parody.
Does anyone really contend that Bioshock’s primary purpose is as a critique of Objectivist philosophy? I would suggest it is not, perhaps that’s why compromises are made in the persuit of an engaging story and virtual world.
Fortunately for me, I don’t hold Take 2 to quite the same standards of literary criticism that you do…
Haha, yeah, parody… And it’s also true comparing established literary forms with video games is a product of wishful thinking on my part.
Why couldnt we compare an established literary form with a video game? Isnt the “boom” generation of gaming growing into our 30′s+? Is it too farfetched to think that a company might make a game that would actually make the player think a little deeper than stepping on Goomba’s and grabbing mushrooms? Give my generation a little credit, gaming is the next big, untapped platform for literary, political and artistic progress. Kids would rather play video games than read a novel, so why not play to a different tune? Make gaming both enjoyable and deep. I for one, applaud Take two and the designers of Bioshock for creating such a lavish environment that is both entertaining and intellectually fulfilling. The twist at the end of “Would you kindly?” was pure masterpiece.
Hey. This is well-written and insightful.
–not a very entertaining comment, and certainly not one that makes me feel smarter than you, which is why it isn’t posted nearly enough.
Yeah, I’m gonna have to disagree. BioShock is actually a brilliant critique of Atlas Shrugged? Why…? Because it plays with the idea of drug use and fits it into the objectivist theory.
Observe… objectivism basically advocates laissez-faire capitalism, among other things. We see the more pure capitalism becomes, the greedier people get. There are less laws to break so what used to be “illegal” is not legal. Insider trading, stealing, ponzi schemes. With nobody even pretending to regulate, anything goes and the most powerful and ruthless will run all the little guys out of town.
Now what’s another form of greed? Drug use. We want to feel good, feel more than we are, so we use drugs simply to feel better to ourselves. Specifically, in BioShock, the drugs promote bettering oneself. In a world where everyone has to be ‘special’ or they have no value, people literally modify their bodies to be more than what they are. To be “special” and stand out.
Thus, I’d say it’s a brilliant critique of objectivism. Ayn Rand’s novel’s biggest problem is that it assumes all these business leaders that hold “the fabric of the world together” would act with honor. It denies a world actually full of Ken Lays and Jeffrey Skillings and Bernie Madoffs… all business geniuses who became very successful but never saw a limit to wanting “more, more more.” And we see the same mentality in drug use… more more more. When do you stop? People do, of course, but the basic concept of the druggie is that they never realized when to stop.
So to combine these two ideas, it’s really one of the best pure IDEAS I’ve ever seen in a game. In a world where “greed, for lack of a better word, is good”, things will eventually fall apart, because only a few people by definition can be at the top, and with everyone clamoring for that peak and nothing to stop them from climbing even if it requires knocking others down, you’re going to get a collapse and war eventually.
And again, in the wanna-be laissez-faire capitalist 1980s what did we see… a ton of widely known drug use.
An overall mentality of greed will infect every avenue of society, and that’s why BioShock is so smart.
And I also disagree with this: “It paints a world in sunbleached black and white.”
No. Andrew Ryan is in many ways a sympathetic character, because he did want to do good. It’s the idea of the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. He was overcome by his own system, like a Frankenstein type whose monster – created to advance society forward – becomes unruly and out of anyone’s control.
He ends up a victim of his own ideology, and it’s a rather sad thing to see. He’s not the “bad guy,” he just opened the door so the real bad guys could gain power with relative ease.
First comment = right. Bioshock is an extreme counterexample to Rand’s work, because Rand was also extreme. Final message: Rand is not a reliable philosopher, and Bioshock is an awesome game.
Strawmen are found in corn fields.
Atlas Shrugged can be found in a bookstore.
The vast majority of Objectivism’s critics can be found in the corn field, because it is easier to flame straw – you don’t even have to go to the trouble of opening a page.
Is is extremely difficult to find critiques of Objectivism because most critics simply invent something they find easier to criticize. Usually what they invent is easier to identify with from their own point of view than Objectivism is.