Atlas Shrugged [118]
"Well, that may be vicious, unjust, calamitous-but such is life in society. Somebody is always sacrificed, as a rule unjustly; there is no other way to live among men. What can any one person do?"
"You can state the truth about Rearden Metal."
He did not answer.
"I could beg you to do it in order to save me. I could beg you to do it in order to avert a national disaster. But I won't. These may not be valid reasons. There is only one reason; you must say it, because it is true."
"I was not consulted about that statement!" The cry broke out involuntarily. "I wouldn't have allowed it! I don't like it any better than you do! But I can't issue a public denial!"
"You were not consulted? Then shouldn't you want to find out the reasons behind that statement?"
"I can't destroy the Institute now!"
"Shouldn't you want to find out the reasons?"
"I know the reasons! They won't tell me, but I know. And I can't say that I blame them, either."
"Would you tell me?"
"I'll tell you, if you wish. It's the truth that you want, isn't it?
Dr. Ferris cannot help it, if the morons who vote the funds for this Institute insist on what they call results. They are incapable of conceiving of such a thing as abstract science. They can judge it only in terms of the latest gadget it has produced for them. I do not know how Dr. Ferris has managed to keep this Institute in existence, I can only marvel at his practical ability. I don't believe he ever was a first-rate scientist-but what a priceless valet of science! I know that he has been facing a grave problem lately. He's kept me out of it, he spares me all that, but I do hear rumors. People have been criticizing the Institute, because, they say, we have not produced enough. The public has been demanding economy. In times like these, when their fat little comforts are threatened, you may be sure that science is the first thing men will sacrifice. This is the only establishment left. There are practically no private research foundations any longer. Look at the greedy ruffians who run our industries. You cannot expect them to support science."
"Who is supporting you now?" she asked, her voice low.
He shrugged. "Society."
She said, with effort, "You were going to tell me the reasons behind that statement."
"I wouldn't think you'd find them hard to deduce. If you consider that for thirteen years this Institute has had a department of metallurgical research, which has cost over twenty million dollars and has produced nothing but a new silver polish and a new anti-corrosive preparation, which, I believe, is not so good as the old ones-you can imagine what the public reaction will be if some private individual comes out with a product that revolutionizes the entire science of metallurgy and proves to be sensationally successful!"
Her head dropped. She said nothing.
"I don't blame our metallurgical department!" he said angrily. "I know that results of this kind are not a matter of any predictable time.
But the public won't understand it. What, then, should we sacrifice? An excellent piece of smelting-or the last center of science left on earth, and the whole future of human knowledge? That is the alternative."
She sat, her head down. After a while, she said, "AH right, Dr. Stadler. I won't argue."
He saw her groping for her bag, as if she were trying to remember the automatic motions necessary to get up.
"Miss Taggart," he said quietly. It was almost a plea. She looked up.
Her face was composed and empty.
He came closer; he leaned with one hand against the wall above her head, almost as if he wished to hold her in the circle of his arm.
"Miss Taggart," he said, a tone of gentle, bitter persuasiveness in his voice, "I am older than you. Believe me, there is no other way to live on earth, Men are not open to truth or reason. They cannot be reached by a rational argument. The mind is powerless against them. Yet we have to deal with them. If we want to accomplish anything,