Atlas Shrugged

Taggart said nothing. He sat with his elbows spread wide on the table top. The table was uncomfortably small, and this made it more uncomfortable for his three companions, but they did not seem to question his privilege.

"Nobody can get ore any longer," said Boyle. "Natural exhaustion of the mines, you know, and the wearing out of equipment, and shortages of materials, and difficulties of transportation, and other unavoidable conditions."

"The ore industry is crumbling. That's what's killing the mining equipment business," said Paul Larkin.

"It's been proved that every business depends upon every other business," said Orren Boyle. "So everybody ought to share the burdens of everybody else."

"That is, I think, true,” said Wesley Mouch. But nobody ever paid any attention to Wesley Mouch.

"My purpose," said Orren Boyle, "is the preservation of a free economy. It's generally conceded that free economy is now on trial. Unless it proves its social value and assumes its social responsibilities, the people won't stand for it. If it doesn't develop a public spirit, it's done for, make no mistake about that."

Orren Boyle had appeared from nowhere, five years ago, and had since made the cover of every national news magazine. He had started out with a hundred thousand dollars of his own and a two-hundred million-dollar loan from the government. Now he headed an enormous concern which had swallowed many smaller companies. This proved, he liked to say, that individual ability still had a chance to succeed in the world.

"The only justification of private property," said Orren Boyle, "is public service."

"That is, I think, indubitable," said Wesley Mouch.

Orren Boyle made a noise, swallowing his liquor. He was a large man with big, virile gestures; everything about his person was loudly full of life, except the small black slits of his eyes.

"Jim," he said, "Rearden Metal seems to be a colossal kind of swindle."

"Uh-huh," said Taggart.

"I hear there's not a single expert who's given a favorable report on it."

"No, not one."

"We've been improving steel rails for generations, and increasing their weight. Now, is it true that these Rearden Metal rails are to be lighter than the cheapest grade of steel?"

"That's right," said Taggart. "Lighter."

"But it's ridiculous, Jim. It's physically impossible. For your heavy-duty, high-speed, main-line track?"

"That's right."

"But you're just inviting disaster."

"My sister is."

Taggart made the stem of his glass whirl slowly between two fingers.

There was a moment of silence.

"The National Council of Metal Industries," said Orren Boyle, "passed a resolution to appoint a committee to study the question of Rearden Metal, inasmuch as its use may be an actual public hazard."

"That is, in my opinion, wise," said Wesley Mouch.

"When everybody agrees," Taggart's voice suddenly went shrill, "when people are unanimous, how does one man dare to dissent? By what right? That's what I want to know—by what right?"

Boyle's eyes darted to Taggart's face, but the dim light of the room made it impossible to see faces clearly: he saw only a pale, bluish smear.

"When we think of the natural resources, at a time of critical shortage," Boyle said softly, "when we think of the crucial raw materials that are being wasted on an irresponsible private experiment, when we think of the ore . . ."

He did not finish. He glanced at Taggart again. But Taggart seemed to know that Boyle was waiting and to find the silence enjoyable.

"The public has a vital stake in natural resources, Jim, such as iron ore. The public can't remain indifferent to reckless, selfish waste by an anti-social individual. After all, private property is a trusteeship held for the benefit of society as a whole."

Taggart glanced at Boyle and smiled; the smile was pointed, it seemed to say that something in his words was an answer to something in the words of Boyle. "The liquor they serve here is swill. I suppose that's the price we have to pay for not being crowded by all kinds of rabble. But I do wish they'd recognize that they're dealing with experts.

Since I hold the purse strings, I expect to get my money's worth and at my pleasure."

Boyle did not answer; his face had become sullen. "Listen, Jim . . ." he began heavily.

Taggart smiled. "What? I'm listening."

"Jim, you will agree, I'm sure, that there's nothing more destructive than a monopoly."

"Yes," said Taggart, "on the one hand. On the other, there's the blight of unbridled competition."

"That's true. That's very true. The proper course is always, in my opinion, in the middle. So it is, I think, the duty of society to snip the extremes, now isn't it?"

"Yes," said Taggart, "it is."

"Consider the picture in the iron-ore business. The national output seems to be falling at an ungodly rate. It threatens the existence of the whole steel industry. Steel mills are shutting down all over the country.