Why the Flag Belongs in the New Neil Armstrong Movie

Why the Flag Belongs in the New Neil Armstrong Movie

Homer Hickam writes in the Washington Post about a new movie celebrating Neil Armstrong, the first man to set foot on the Moon. In  The new Neil Armstrong movie is about more than the lunar flag-planting, In his positive review of the movie, Hickam focuses on the fact that the planting of the American Flag by Neil Armstrong and fellow astronaut Buzz Aldrin on the surface of the moon was omitted from the film:

More than a few Americans are fed up with Hollywood and want no part of what the industry produces. For a while now, once-unifying entertainment awards shows have become minefields of woke declarations and Trump-bashing, which are perceived by many Americans who voted for the president as insults directed not just at him but also at them.

This has now thrown “First Man,” a major new movie about one of America’s greatest heroes, into the path of some hard cultural head winds. Back in 1969, in the real world, Neil Armstrong and fellow astronaut Buzz Aldrin spent some 10 minutes raising the American flag on the lunar surface. But in the film version the flag scene is nowhere to be found. When the question of why came up last month at the Venice Film Festival, Ryan Gosling, the actor who plays Armstrong in “First Man,” stumbled with his answer, explaining that the landing was a “human achievement” and that Armstrong didn’t view himself as an “American hero.”

The result was outrage, especially from many of the folks who’ve felt insulted by Hollywood’s recent history. Although I count myself among those who think Hollywood should stay out of politics, I think the folks railing against “First Man” are wrong.

The history here is instructive. Although the lunar flag-planting may seem like a given in hindsight, for months before the flight of Apollo 11 there was a debate within the federal government and in the press as to the wisdom of doing it. The argument for the flag was that the voyage was an entirely American effort that was paid for by American taxpayers, who deserved to see their flag planted in the lunar regolith. The argument against was that it could cast the landing in the eyes of the world as a nationalistic exercise, diminishing what was otherwise indisputably a triumph of American values and ideals, not to mention a demonstration of our technical superiority over our great adversary, the Soviet Union.

My emphasis. But aren’t those ideals universal? Aren’t those ideals exactly what the flag stands for? Aren’t all men, not just Americans, equal in their rights to their life and liberty, regardless of race, gender, sexual orientation, etc.? Don’t all men have the right to pursue their own happiness under a government designed not to rule but to “secure these rights?” Shouldn’t all men be free to live by their own conscientious beliefs; to express themselves through speech and press without fear of governmental retribution; to associate freely and be free to criticize his government; to work and keep property earned through his own efforts; to be considered innocent until proven guilty?

What is it about American ideals that do not apply equally to all people everywhere? The Declaration of Independence says “all men.” Those words have been an inspiration the world over, for good reason. Neil Diamond said it best in his song “America”: “Every time that flag’s unfurled, they’re coming to America”--any time, anywhere, people can be American.

America is unique. It is more than a country. Count me among those who believe the flag-raising should be included. Not because of collectivistic nationalism. And not because American taxpayers footed the bill--although that is certainly important. But because the economic political, and intellectual freedom represented by the flag made it possible for government to fund the moon venture: Without free enterprise--free minds and free markets--to draw on, the moon landing would never have happened. The argument for the flag is precisely that it is “indisputably a triumph of American values and ideals.” Americanism is universal. It stands for freedom everywhere.

Hickam says he “personally would have included the flag-raising,” but that if First Man the movie is true to the book of the same title it is supposedly based on, “It is not the story of the moon-landing but of the world-famous astronaut himself.” Maybe. Maybe the flag was omitted for innocent reasons. But Hickam himself “personally would have included the flag-raising.”

Hickam observes many Americans’ disgust at Hollywood’s blatant politicizing, and he himself acknowledges that “I count myself among those who think Hollywood should stay out of politics.” I haven’t read the book. But if I have time to go see the movie, maybe I’ll come away with a different take. But given Hollywood’s overt one-sidedness, I strongly suspect that the flag was kept out of the movie precisely because Hollywood stands against American ideals--ideals rooted in individualism. Hollywood is predominantly collectivist/socialist/Marxist in its political leanings in direct opposition to the Declaration of Independence. It wants to push the myth that the moon landing was a collectivistic “human achievement.” It was not. It was an achievement of the cooperative efforts of free individuals united by choice to a common purpose and goal. The only sense in which the moon landing was a human achievement is that it shows what individual humans are capable of when left free--when they are individually treated equally before the law, based on their unalienable rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

Related Reading:

MassMutual’s Vile Trivialization of Americanism

Democracy Fundamentalism vs. Americanism

Individualism vs. Collectivism: Our Future, Our Choice—Craig Biddle

Collectivized 'Rights' versus Individual Rights—Ayn Rand

Our Republican Constitution: Securing the Liberty and Sovereignty of We the People--Randy E. Barnett

The Moral Lessons I Drew From the Christmas Movie ‘Elf’

‘Elf’ is a 2003 Christmas movie with valuable life lessons. Superficially, the movie purports to show the “Christmas Spirit” as placing selfless spiritual values—like concern for others—over selfish material concerns like business and money-making. But the lesson drawn from the actions of the characters and the movie’s conclusion implies a different, opposite moral message.

Elf is the story of a human (Will Ferrell) adopted by Papa Elf (played by Bob Newhart), one of Santa’s elves. Upon growing up (physically, but still emotionally child-like), Buddy leaves the North Pole in search of his father, who doesn’t know his son exists. Buddy finds his father, employed as an executive for a publishing company run by a tyrannical, over-demanding boss who allegedly lacks “Christmas Spirit.”

Walter (James Caan), Buddy’s father, reluctantly takes Buddy into his home with his wife and their approximately 10-year old son Michael (Daniel Tay). But Buddy comes to feel unwanted by his father, and runs away. Upon finding Buddy’s runaway note, Michael rushes to his father, who is at work trying to complete a book project on Christmas Eve at the commandment of his boss. Michael walks into the meeting and tells his father that Buddy had run away, and asks for his help in finding his half-brother.

Walter now faces a decision; go after Buddy immediately or finish the project as demanded by his boss. Initially, Walter chooses to put off looking for his runaway son, to the chagrin and anger of Michael, and instead stay and satisfy his boss, who threatens to fire him if he doesn’t complete the project by the end of that day, Christmas Eve.

At that point Michael, himself feeling somewhat neglected by his father’s generally excessive focus on his work, rebels, accusing his father of “always thinking only of yourself.” (Earlier in the movie, Michael had accused his father of “caring only about money.”)

At this point, important questions are begged. Is the pursuit of money and success an end in itself, or a means to an end?  Was Walter really thinking “only of himself”—acting in his rational self-interest—by hierarchizing his job over his family? Or were his priorities screwed up, leading him down a personally self-destructive path?

Michael’s rebellion is like a slap in the face to Walter. He must decide what values are most important in his life; his job or his sons. But Walter’s dilemma does not involve the choice implied in this scene; to choose between his family or the pursuit of money. The actual choice is; his family or his stressful job working for a jerk boss. This is the choice Walter faces. He is on the spot between his particular job and his sons, and must now decide what his most important values are—the most selfish choice he’s ever had to make.

Walter chooses his family, thus losing his job. It’s the “right” choice, because he has put concern for others above selfishness. But, did he? Is it a choice between selflessness and selfishness? The choice Walter ultimately makes point to some important life lessons, albeit perhaps not the lessons intended by the movie’s producers. The obvious message one is supposed to draw from the movie is that when faced with the choice between selfless concern for others or the selfish pursuit of money—between the spiritual and the material—we must choose the former, which allegedly embodies the “Christmas Spirit.”

By forsaking his job for his family, Walter supposedly made the correct, selfless choice. But was it really selfless? Are spiritual values the embodiment of selflessness, and the material the embodiment of selfishness? This narrative applied to the moral dilemma Walter faces is rooted in a false premise; an alleged dichotomy between your mind and your body; between the spiritual and the material. Interestingly, whatever the producers’ intentions, the movie itself refutes this false narrative and premise. There is no such choice or dichotomy. The moral choice is between selflessness and selfishness. But not in the way seemingly meant in the movie, or as almost certainly taken by most viewers.

The most important lessons (or moral messages) that I drew from this heart-warming movie are not explicitly drawn out and demonstrated to the viewer. But the lessons are there, nonetheless. The movie doesn’t explicitly answer the questions posed above. But the implicit answers embedded in Walter’s choices say something important about money and values. Money is a means to serving one’s happiness and spiritual well-being, not an end in itself. One must not pursue money, whatever the cost. Indeed, to pursue money at all costs is not only not selfish. It is self-destructive. And one does not have to. The pursuit money and success and to pursue love and the nurture of family are both important, selfish values. Human beings are a unified whole of mind and body. There is no conflict there. To achieve a flourishing life, one must integrate one’s values—all of them, spiritual and material—into a proper hierarchy, and act accordingly.

Yes, Walter gives up his crappy job for his family. Keeping it for so long at the expense of his family life was very unselfish; meaning, not in his rational self-interest, as he comes to learn. But he doesn’t choose his family at the expense of the pursuit of money. In the end, Walter achieves both material, money-making business success—he starts his own publishing company with a successful book launch—and a good family life, sacrificing neither to the other. His ultimate choices and motives are thoroughly, and properly, selfish. Therein lies the lesson of Elf: Both spiritual and material values are crucial to a flourishing life. On the issue of the spiritual vs. the material, it’s not either-or. But you must integrate and hierarchize your values rationally, and choose wisely—i.e., long term—because you can have neither spiritual nor material flourishing without the other.

"42": The Power of Courage and Moral Certitude and the Impotence of Ignorance and Bigotry

My latest post at The Objective Standard blog--42: The Triumph of Courage and Moral Certitude over Irrationality and Bigotry--is a brief encapsulation of the movie 42: The Jackie Robinson Story. The movie tells the story of the end of Major League Baseball's "color line" that separated white and black professional baseball players--in particular, blacks of African decent. 

I would note a couple of additional things. The breakup of baseball segregation was accomplished long before government got involved. De-segregationists didn't rely on government force in the form of laws against "discrimination," bureaucratic regulations, court orders, or executive orders. No posturing politician contributed to their cause in any way. What we see are a couple of self-motivated private citizens battling—and ultimately shaping—the tide of history, powered by the conviction that they were right. All they needed was the freedom to act.

To be sure, legal action is sometimes needed, but only in regards to repealing laws that impose segregation, such as the Supreme Court's Brown vs. Board of Education or certain sections of the 1964 Civil Rights Act.

Finally, I don't think the story would be complete without the understanding that baseball desegregation was really a two-front battle. While we celebrate the great and high profile Jackie Robinson, we must not forget the black man who, in the same year 1947, broke the American League color barrier. Just weeks after Robinson broke in with the Dodgers, Larry Doby joined the Cleveland Indians, having been signed by another courageous owner, Bill Veeck. As I previously noted, Doby faced at least as hard a struggle as Robinson.

You can read my TOS post here.

If you haven't seen 42, get out and see it. 

Related Reading:

Larry Doby, American Hero

Title 2: Government vs. Private Action

Epstein on Hollywood's Slanderous Anti-Fracking "Promised Land"

"The story of hydraulic fracturing (frac'ing) is one of the most important stories of our time," writes energy expert Alex Epstein in his review of the movie "Promised Land." "It needs to be told far and wide–and certainly by our top talent in Hollywood.”

Hydraulic Fracturing technology is decades old, and businessmen, scientists, and engineers have greatly improved the process over the years. Today, when combined with revolutionary horizontal drilling techniques, it enables energy companies to extract vast quantities of oil and natural gas from rock layers deep underground. “Promised Land” purports to tell the story of "frac'ing" (more commonly called "fracking") through the characters Steve Butler (played by Matt Damon), who attempts to convince a town to allow it, and Dustin Noble (John Krasinski), who opposes it.

“Promised Land,” Epstein says, “is a shameful smear-job” that vastly exaggerates what it calls the “mortal danger” of fracking while providing no evidence to back up its claims; assertions such as “There are people all over the country whose water is being contaminated. . . .”

What does the film say about the positive case for fracking? Other than that some people can make some money, nothing. It makes no attempt to “explain the staggering improvements to human life this technology is bringing about,” or how the industry works to minimize risk and mitigate the damage when something does go wrong; of which, Epstein notes, “for a pervasive technology there are shockingly few instances.”

There’s much more. Epstein’s in-depth review, Dishonest Land: Hollywood’s “Promised Land” Slanders the Frac’ing Revolution, is well worth reading.

“[O]ur basic attitude toward the [hydraulic fracturing] industry,” Epstein argues, “should be one of gratitude.” We also owe a debt of gratitude to Alex Epstein, founder of the Center for Industrial Progress, for working tirelessly to get the truth out about hydraulic fracturing.

Related Reading:

"Fracking's" Knee-Jerk Enemies

Cheers to the Heroes Driving America's Oil and Gas Boom

Movies: Atlas Shrugged, Part I

Talk of an Atlas Shrugged movie has gone on for decades. I had always hoped that it wouldn’t get made because, for one thing, I didn’t think any movie could do this particular book – which I first read in 1968 - justice. It is at once an action novel and a philosophic treatise; not just any treatise, but one that challenges convention at the deepest and at multiple levels, from ethics to love to psychology to economics to politics and more. It is literally a book that requires extensive study.

On another level, I had always feared that Atlas Shrugged in the wrong Hollywood hands would distort and undermine the important things Ayn Rand had to say. Agree or not, Rand desperately needs to be honestly and objectively understood and debated. What she had to say is, in my mind, of great importance both historically and for the future of mankind.

To be sure, a bad movie could never derail ideas, even if it sets them back for a while. In their more than half a century long effort to defeat her, Ayn Rand’s critics of Left and Right have given us almost exclusively a steady barrage of lies and distortions, continuing at an accelerating pace to this day. Yet, they could not stop the expanding (though still limited) penetration of Objectivist ideas into the culture. A distortive movie would be no more successful. Ideas cannot be defeated except by confronting them openly and by means of better ideas. Nonetheless, a bad portrayal of Atlas would make the job of we Objectivist activists a lot harder.

Well, I’ve just seen the movie Atlas Shrugged – part I. Someone said that the movie and the novel each stand on their own, because the movie version of the story is, as the screen says at the end, "based on the novel by Ayn Rand". Considering that the movie was rushed into production, on a low budget, just before the movie rights lapsed, it wasn’t bad. But the fact is the movie is only very shallowly based on the novel. It deals with the political aspect of government controls vs. free markets, which is not the main theme of the novel.

So, the movie does not do justice to the book. On the other hand, it does not damage Rand’s message such as it deals with.

Having gotten my worst fears out of the way early on, I am pleased to say that I enjoyed the movie. It was a pleasant surprise not so much because it was as good depiction of the book – it is not – but because what it does tackle is depicted correctly. Aside from the many omissions – understandable maybe, given the novel’s length, but still a disappointment – the movie remained essentially true to the novel’s political message. Of course the political message – that economic freedom rather than central government planning is the path to prosperity – is the most superficial of Rand’s messages. The case for economic freedom has been thoroughly demonstrated in practice and in theory. On a practical level, that debate is over. One of the deeper themes in the novel is to answer the question, “If capitalism is so successful, why does statism keep winning, even in America?” The deeper answers are only vaguely hinted at in the movie, at least in this first part of the trilogy.

The movie did not drill down into the wide philosophical depth of the book. Not even close. Nor did it even begin to capture the depth of the characters, their conflicts, motivations, or passions. In these respects, it was very shallow. But the movie was engaging from start to finish, and I couldn’t believe how fast the hour and forty-two minutes went.

It’s questionable whether even the political message really got through to those unfamiliar with the novel or Rand’s ideas. For example, the connection between the actions of the political class and the disappearance of one after another prominent figures seemed blurry to me, at best. As an Objectivist and three-time reader of Atlas Shrugged, I of course “got it”. But I’m not sure the casual viewer does. Of course, this is part one of a trilogy. Perhaps the producers will do a better job of bringing it all together in Parts II and III.

No one is going to walk out of the theater with the sense that age-old ideas, especially moral ideas, have been challenged to the core. No one is going to exit the theater thinking about the role of human intelligence in human affairs, which was Rand’s main theme. The movie is simply way too incoherent for that. The best that can be said is that Rand’s revolutionary ideas sustained no harm, and that sales of Atlas Shrugged and her other works could well be stimulated. On its own, the movie will do nothing to change the debate. Not directly. Indirectly, quite possibly. To the extent that the movie inspires people unfamiliar with Ayn Rand to investigate and debate her ideas, the movie will have been influential.

In short, to me as an Objectivist, the movie is both a relief and a disappointment, even though as a “stand alone” production I enjoyed it. (I know, I sound contradictory here. Perhaps that’s a reflection of my very mixed feelings about the movie.) Perhaps parts II and III will offer partial redemption. Then again, this first big screen Atlas may not be the last. A much more serious attempt may eventually surface. “Al Ruddy, the charismatic producer of The Godfather (and a Democrat)”, writes the NY Times Leftist Maureen Dowd, “thinks the story will have a second life with stars. 'Atlas Shrugged is the most important novel of the 20th century,’ Ruddy says, ‘It will rise again.’ ”.

Which means, maybe my relief is premature. But for now, I’ll leave my worrying about a Democrat-produced Atlas for some future time, and simply recommend that people see the movie … and then read the novel and learn about the Objectivist philosophy that grew out of it.

Russell Crowe vs. the Real Robin Hood

In a recent interview about his new movie, Robin Hood, actor Russell Crowe had this to say:

"The thing that attracts me is that there's some guy out there who will work on behalf of the people who can't do something for themselves. There's a guy there who'll rob from the rich and give to the poor."

I can't help but be reminded of a certain heroic character in a certain novel written by a certain American philosopher, who made it his mission to wipe from mankind's memory the symbol of which Crowe speaks:

"I am fighting the idea that need is a sacred idol requiring human sacrifices - that the need of some men is the knife of a guillotine hanging over others - that all of us must live with our work, our hopes, our plans, our efforts at the mercy of the moment when that knife will decend upon us - and that the extent of our ability is the extent of our danger, so that success will bring our heads down on the block, while failure will give us the right to pull the cord. This is the horror which Robin Hood immortalized as an ideal of righteousness. It is said that he fought against the looting rulers and returned the loot to those who had been robbed, but that is not the meaning of the legend which has survived. He is remembered, not as a champion of property, but as a champion of need, not as a defender of the robbed, but as a provider of the poor. He is held to be the first man who assumed a halo of virtue by practicing charity with wealth which he did not own, by giving away goods which he had not produced, by making others pay for the luxury of his pity. He is the man who became the symbol of the idea that need, not achievement, is the source of rights, that we don't have to produce, only to want, that the earned does not belong to us, but the unearned does. ... Until men learn that of all human symbols, Robin Hood is the most immoral and the most contemptible, there will be no justice on earth and no way for mankind to survive."(page 577)

Ayn Rand recognized that the "meaning of the legend" and the "symbol" were opposites. Russell Crowe apparently clings to the symbol, but perhaps the movie is more true to the actual legend. About the movie, Vulture's Lane Brown saw a Tea Partyer:

"Even though Robin Hood's no-taxation, anti-government philosophy is similar to that of a certain emerging political party, Russell Crowe will have you know that his Robin Hood is no tea-bagger."

No-siree! Robin Hood would be fighting against the First Amendment, which he calls "the monopolization of media". I'm sure he was kidding.

But, sadly, he wasn't kidding in the quote cited above. In an article at National Post.com entitled, The real Robin never robbed the rich, John Ridpath, referring to Crowe's personal take on Robin Hood, had this to say:

"It’s an alarming omen to again see Robin Hood heroism mindlessly distorted. Aside from its vacuously erroneous simplicity, this standard image of Robin Hood is grounds for concern about the state of our culture."

Robin Hood, writes Mr. Ridpath, was "an agent of justice" who returned wealth to its rightful owners which "the Norman conquerors and their minions seized, by force..." He was "a defender of the common man’s right to his earned property. He was a courageous enemy of state-enforced robbery."

Furthermore, continues Mr. Ridpath, Crowe's "praising the act of robbery from the rich because it serves the poor, without explaining the context, endorses the immoral principle of forcing the able and productive into sacrificial service of the needy."

The inversion of the legend that turns a hero into the personification of pure evil reminds Mr. Ridpath of a futuristic little novel which carries a desperate warning to us. He concludes:

"Most alarming, however, is the implication of our culture accepting the Robin Hood mantra — he stole from the rich to give to the poor. To the contrary, historians report, and the movie presents by his own words what Robin Hood was after: “Liberty. Under law.” He sought the protection of private property, under law, from robbery by Normans and feudal barony.

"That our culture can unwittingly and with increasing vehemence embrace this unjust and false portrayal of a heroic and virtuous man is evidence of our culture’s intellectual decline. When such virtue is portrayed as economic redistribution for the sake of economic redistribution and equalization, we are on the road to George Orwell’s 1984 — naked tyranny over a citizenry rendered dumb through the abuse of the English language."