My name is Josh Galt. Joshua David Galt III, actually.
Yes, that’s “The Third”. Yes, that’s my real legal name.
I get this question alot when meeting new people: “Who is John Galt?” It’s always spoken with an I’m-so-clever twinkle in their eyes.
I find it both amusing and appalling at the same time.
That phrase was used by people in Atlas Shrugged who had given up all hope and refused to seek solutions. It was not a phrase that the heroic characters in the book liked, at all. In fact, Dagny at one point states that she hates it, for the reason I just mentioned.
So when you say that to me upon our introduction, it tells me that you’ve maybe read the book – or at least have heard of it and want to appear literate – but didn’t fully grasp the concepts.
Saying “who is John Galt” is akin to uttering the words “I don’t know”.
And anybody who has known me for a while knows that I usually will respond with “well if you DID know, what would the answer be?”
It’s meant to drive you to seeking – and ultimately finding – a solution. If you ask yourself the right questions, you’re more likely to find the right answers.
I also tend to get the line of interrogation about why I chose the name “Galt”, especially from anybody that knew me from my younger Lamka days. Josh Lamka – now Josh Galt – grew up in a very christian home; Ayn Rand’s protagonist in Atlas Shrugged was an athiest. So it’s understandable that people question me.
I’m going to explain it once publicly, and it can be here as a reference for anyone who is curious. Not because I seek approval or fear disapproval, but because I think it’s important that the incorrect and often ridiculous assumptions are answered, because it makes a difference in what impact I might have in your life, if any.
And that, I actually do care about. I want to leave an indelible positive impression in the life of every person I meet. So it’s important you understand what hit you, and why. ;)
To explain three simple points:
1. Why I changed my name in the first place
2. Why I am such an Ayn Rand / Objectivism believer
3. Why I chose the name Galt
I grew up in a very conservative, fundamentalist Christian home. You could call my family “eccentric” and I would laugh, because you don’t know the half of it.
My dad was very strict (like, no wearing jeans to church or talking to girls on the phone or saying the words fart and booger type of strict). My parents were both very talented, very well-rounded, and both were teachers and self-employed in their own business pursuits.
My parents were also missionaries (my dad preferred the term “Missionary Evangelist”), so I lived in places like an Indian reservation in the boonies of upper British Columbia, in a log cabin with no running water, no electricity, and about the same amount of snow and arctic wildlife as you’d see on a TV special called “Angry Tundra – Hell Hath Indeed Frozen Over!”.
I also got to travel and see the world while growing up, living in places as remote as Ghana, Nepal, and Eastern Europe. My parents believed in living with the people, so wherever we went we stayed with the locals and did as they did.
That meant obnoxious chickens, mangy dogs, and raw sewage in the streets outside our abode in many places. It was lice, and gypsies, and so many sad-eyed orphans in Romania. I visited a castle in Africa where slaves were kept in dungeons, places so horrifying that thinking about them still makes my stomach turn – the floors were dark and rubbery, still a century later, a petrified layer of down-trodden fecal matter.
By the time I had finished high school, I’d seen more of the world than most people will see in their lifetimes. I had a grasp on poverty, and wealth, and caste systems, and how, as Solomon said, “time and chance happen to them all.”
Just like it did for you, it happened to me.
I did not choose to be born a white American male in a rural-yet-suburban middle-class right-wing Christian home, any more than the unfortunate child born into a malaria-infested shithole chose to be born there.
I value that child as much as any other human soul, but that does not consequently make me hate the facets of the person I was born but had no control over: my race, my gender, my beliefs.
Well, actually I do have control over my beliefs. And beliefs did play a big role in me changing my name.
See, my parents were awesome. They both had their strengths and weaknesses, but I would not trade how I grew up for anything in the world (I still don’t own a TV, I still have an incredible imagination, and I still thrive on globetrotting).
Because they believed in being “well rounded”, I was raised to excel in many areas. I might have been the quarterback of the football team, but I was still singing in the choir (which won multiple state championships – and yes, I’m proud of that.).
I, like my brother, get to enjoy life as a profound paradox.
Because of how I was raised, I have been able to excel in sports and art, which are typically segregated. Add in business to the mix, and I’m working on the holy grail of hat tricks. Working on it, of course, because it’s a life-long journey. But it’s the mix that is fulfilling.
It’s ironic, too, that despite the ultra-conservative Biblical values that governed our family, we were all rebels in some fashion. Independently minded, mavericks, and (for the most part) wannabe capitalists. My mom liked to use the term “trendsetters”. It was her way of spinning “weird”.
But still – weird or not – it was talented stock.
And that’s where my dad went wrong. He was the most talented guy I’ve ever met outside of the one in my mirror (with an I’m-the-little-brother-but-I-still-think-I-can-beat-you respectful nod to my brother), but his contradictions were his undoing.
My dad was the hardest worker I’ve ever met – and I pride myself on inheriting his work ethic – but he refused to allow himself the “sin” of becoming profitable and enjoying the fruits of his labors.
He was the ultimate western maverick who was capable of doing anything, and I think he’d be proud (ironically, haha) to hear me say that – but his religious adherence to the convoluted laws of the “church” and his interpretations of the Bible put him into an eventual tailspin.
In essence, he was a living case study of what Ayn Rand talks about over and over again – a person whose contradictions eventually drive them insane.
My dad had all the tools to be successful in any number of ventures or pursuits. He had all the personality and charisma and knowledge and drive and ability in the world, but he didn’t love himself.
Because, as every good Christian knows, loving yourself is pride, and pride is – GULP! – a sin.
I call bullshit.
The love of SELF is not the root of all evil. To love one’s self is the most important commandment in the Bible, if you want to get into that debate. I’ve covered it a lot in other places so I won’t go off on a long diatribe about it here.
Suffice it to say that my dad eventually went crazy. He wanted to be great, successful, rich – and he had every God-given natural talent in the world to achieve any level of greatness he could have wanted. He also had every natural human right to accomplish those things.
In fact, he had a RESPONSIBILITY to achieve greatness, because he was created with that potential.
But he was afraid it was a sin to be successful, or to have money, or to be proud of who he was. He wanted it, he knew deep down that it was right, but his contradictory beliefs told him it was wrong. So he squelched it.
It’s impossible to have confidence and truly love yourself when you are consciously sabotaging the greatness of your potential. Altruism forces you to do that. My dad did that.
And there were probably other hidden issues that were contradictory to his beliefs too, considering how adamantly opposed he was to anyone ever questioning his beliefs, or the Bible, or his irrefutable control over his household.
(Beware people who resist questions or transparency – they fear the questions because they fear the answers, and they fear transparency because they are hiding something they desperately don’t want discovered – like a massive contradiction.)
Well, eventually, in his early 60’s, this once godly man who had preached to thousands all over the world about the love of Jesus, he left his wife and his two sons and ran off to marry some other woman.
Before you laugh at how crazy that sounds, let me say I do not hold it against him (it’s been better for the three of us he left behind, in a lot of ways) except for one thing.
And if I ever talk to him again (it’s been years) or see him, I will be mad about this one thing:
YOU WASTED YOUR POTENTIAL BECAUSE YOU REFUSED TO LOVE YOURSELF. YOU. WASTED. YOUR. DESTINY!
By choice!!!
That makes me righteously indignant no matter who it is. I’ve been around a lot of athletes in my lifetime, and human potential is never so easy to see as it is in athletes (and sports reveal a lot about a person’s brain type as well). The most gifted, unbelievably clutch, multi-sport athletes I have ever been around AMOUNTED TO NOTHING because they partied away their potential (typical though for _STP brain types, yes?).
Few things in life piss me off more than people wasting their potential. Whatever the reason.
It’s disgusting because they wasted what could have become a heroic life and all they had to do was have a little bit of discipline.
A life that inspires people, that beckons others onward and upward to greatness. A life that is intrinsically rewarding. A life that purely by its example results in Pulling Humanity Forward™.
Many people I have known have thrown that opportunity away. I will not.
Maybe I don’t inspire you yet. But I inspire ME, and that is enough. I have heroes that I look up to, sure. But I am fascinated and inspired by myself, encouraged by my actions and evolution, moved by my creations, driven onward by my progress and damn proud of my integrity.
When my dad divorced my mom, my brother and I were left to pick up the pieces, to encourage and help her along. After over 40 years of being a subservient human to his control, suddenly my mom had to find herself anew, and in her 60’s, become a complete individual.
It fell to me to be her counselor.
It was during the first couple years of this time that I searched for a name. I had known as soon as my dad was gone for good I would be changing my last name, but for a long time I did not find or create anything that I really loved. I had a few requirements, for marketing purposes as well as my own silly quirks.
But the bottom line was that I wanted a name that would inspire me every time I said it, heard it, wrote it, saw it…
It was also during this time that, while doing a ton of intercontinental flying, I had plenty of time to read and thus became engrossed with Ayn Rand. I found myself reading and silently screaming “yes!” “yes!” “duh that makes so much effing sense, of course!”
It wasn’t just that I was learning a whole ton of new things (though I was) – I’m not totally new to the whole idea of individualism or integrity or common sense.
But I had grown up in a household where the positive paradox was subtly viewed as a negative, which led to the existence of a confusing contradiction.
My dad was an individualist, but he lived as the church told him to live, as an altruist (putting others always – ALWAYS – ahead of himself…well, up until the rapid demise of our family unit).
As such, he preached integrity to his family and the world, but he lived in violation to his OWN integrity, because I know he truly believed, deep down, that he should be great and successful and rich. Because – ironically – he instilled that in me. Because it was in his core to be it.
In some ways, it was as though he wanted me to be great so that he could enjoy the rewards of greatness, without feeling like he was sinning by having pride in himself. It’s like he was saddened because he knew he wouldn’t break through altruism’s thick chains himself, but he thought he could push his sons hard enough that they’d make it. It’s an ironic and all-too-common by-product of religiosity.
He knew he should be a hero – but he allowed christianity, in essence, to convince him that the heroic was somehow a sin. %*#!
I wasn’t shocked to find out Mother Teresa died basically an athiest. Of course she did, she epitomized altruism, and it eventually destroyed her humanity!
My dad went the altruistic route too, but unlike Mother Teresa he didn’t have the luxury of being a nun and suffering till the end in solitary silence.
He was born with incredible internal fortitude to become a powerful human being, and a lifetime of squelching that drive (or channeling it elsewhere behind closed doors) eventually drove him over the edge.
Of course it did. Living a lie will always lead to a confused, tangled-up sense of self. NEVER FAKE REALITY. Even if it hurts. No matter who it hurts. Especially if it hurts.
(For tools to live this I love the book Radical Honesty – you have to sift through some whacky ideas, but the core concept is great!)
So as I went through Rand’s books, it wasn’t so much that I was learning new concepts as it was seeing myself and the world through the lens of logical reality, and finally understanding WHY there was always such a dichotomy in my soul…as I imagine must have also been brutal in my dad. Probably still is.
All growing up, in church, we learned about turning the other cheek and putting others first. About lowering ourselves (and our esteem!), about meeting the needs of other people, about living for Jesus and family and the church collective, always thinking others to be better than ourselves.
“I” was a sinful word. “I” was prideful, and arrogant, and ssssselfishhhhh…and Satan wants you to be selfish (and yet, so does Santa, but he’s ok!).
All growing up, I struggled with this painful duality in myself – I knew who I was deep down, I knew what I was created to be, and I didn’t give a rat’s ass who liked me or disliked me. Goal oriented, baby. Yet I hated who I was, too, for reasons I truly couldn’t figure out.
I remember conversations with my parents where I just could not understand why I felt so worthless and empty and like it was somehow wrong to be me. Like, it’s not my fault God gave me these talents, why is it wrong to be happy about what I can do! Why do I get hated on by peers and treated like a sinner by adults? I’m highly capable and it’s exciting – shouldn’t I be proud of that?!
I remember getting flak in church groups – always getting shit from people in church groups.
There was a time in a small group I had answered the question of “What is your primary God-given talent?” with a simple answer of “creating”.
Because that’s what artists – which all productive humans are – that’s just what they do. They create.
People took that and mocked me as “the creator, ooooh” (which now, far removed from it, I find quite funny, all things considered).
I didn’t understand it, and I knew they were somehow wrong to mock it (not for some silly reason like it was mean to me, but because they were really just mocking a core human principle) and yet, everywhere I turned I was the odd-man out because I just couldn’t find a good reason for giving up my individuality and personal pride.
I was selfish. Arrogant. I had an ego. I was, of course, heading toward becoming a backslider. I was just like my older brother.
Youth leaders – my brother’s peers, since he was older than me – hated me for this, just for being related to him. I was “little-Lamka”. Because I reminded them of him, and he was, of course, much cooler and better looking and more talented at everything than them. So they took out their lack of self-acceptance on me, which I must say didn’t do much for my already negative view of altruism’s fruits.
You get the point.
On the one hand, values of greatness were espoused and fully encouraged by my parents (and in a twisted way, by preachers and youth leaders too). In fact, in our home excellence was not optional – we were supposed to be the best at everything we did, because anything less was not living up to our potential.
And yet the diametrically-opposed blanket of “be ye unselfish and humble and never, ever be proud” hung damp and cold over all that I did and all that I was.
So in reading Rand, I realized that there was an answer, and it was what I deep-down believed all along. Only, in much the same way as Hank Rearden, the christianese altruistic mindset was so ingrained in me that I had been unwilling to let it go and simply follow what I truly believed in – myself and in who I was created to be.
The natural belief we’re born with is that “it’s good to be me, and good to be proud of who I am and what I can do. My Creator made me this way. And as long as I’m living up to my rational values and thus earning the self-love I give myself, that’s something to take pride in.” That’s how we humans were created to work.
Logical humanism isn’t the rejection of the Maker, it’s the full acceptance of the self!
I think the process was exacerbated by my being the sounding board for my mom during the time after my dad left. In order to help her come to grips with who she is as an individual, not as someone’s wife, completely under his control, I found myself encouraging her with Objectivist principles. And the old adage proved true for me – the best way to learn something is to teach it to somebody else.
My mom is an amazing friend and I love her dearly, so I say this with respect, but in many ways life had to be boiled down to the most simplistic terms it could be explained in, in order for her to understand it and start to accept her individuality. But a lifetime of being figuratively beaten over the head with contradictions will do that to anybody.
I think going through that process with her at the same time I was having the blinders pulled off my own eyes by Rand really drove the concepts home for me.
Suffice it to say, though, that I am not John Galt. I was not born as a flawless character in an idealistic novel.
I was born as a child promised by God, if you choose to believe that. (Multiple miscarriages by my mom over the course of many years, then a “divinely given promise” which included my name Joshua David, and voila, 9 months later I emerged…and survived.) I kind of like it.
And I was born with an inherent sense of individuality, determination, and testicular fortitude to be who I am and was meant to be, come what may. But I could not get through the glass ceiling – glass coffin, rather – that kept me bound under false, contradictory pretenses.
I was on a fast-track to joining my dad in the crazy house – or simply disappearing to start life all over again without anyone I knew…because the vast majority of them were tragically, well-meaningfully, wrong.
But I am not John Galt. I don’t even want to be John Galt in the human sense – in terms of character relation, he is the least “human” of all Rand’s characters, at least to me. However, it’s not about the human sense so much as the meaning behind the persona.
To put it simply, he’s just the incarnation of her ideas. John Galt is Objectivism.
So because of that, the name Galt – this collection of letters and sounds combining to make a word – is powerful and inspiring for me.
The name Galt represents for me the beauty and power of saying I, the nobility of individual pride, the pleasure of productive success, and the foundational virtue of selfishness.
It represents what every thinking person truly believes, whether they’re still ensnared in some deception which prevents them from being free, or whether they’ve broken out and are passionately pursuing greatness.
The name Galt just fit me, even though I relate most to Howard Roark, the controversial architect from The Fountainhead. But Roark didn’t work for me as a name consideration, for a plethora of reasons. And while I wouldn’t mind being ENTP Francisco D’Anconia (the coolest ENTP in history), the name didn’t pass the test.
GALT did. (pronounced gahlt)
But then the questions from the church peeps start flying – about Rand, and Atheism, and how anyone who believes in God can believe in Objectivism or selfishness and on and on.
Listen – Jesus Christ was the most selfish human ever to walk the earth, in the sense of true selfishness as defined by reason. He came for one reason and one reason only (his created destiny) and anybody who presented a challenge to his accomplishing that – including his closest friends – he told them to get the hell out of his way.
I strongly believe that Ayn Rand and Jesus would have been good friends – Jesus lived Objectivist values! It was Rand who threw out the baby with the baptismal water (and understandably so).
So yes – I am an Objectivist, and I believe in the power of the individual.
Yes, I also believe in a higher power and Creator.
Sadly (for her), Rand never addressed the slightly important topic of where in the universe we came from. Understandably, she dismissed the topic completely because of her distaste for religion. I get that. But she still screwed up.
And no, I don’t celebrate holidays (you what?!), because they’re all based on hideous pagan customs which I find perverse and not at all evolutionary (sacrificing babies to mythical sun-gods, anybody? Welcome to Christmas) – but that doesn’t make me a Jehovah’s Witness.
I have my own views, which are based in what I believe to be Truth, and which will continue to evolve.
At the core of my belief system is the fact that I believe I am more than just a special snowflake, I’m endowed by the master Creator with the ability to potentially create something better than snowflakes. Although sunshine would be pretty damn hard to beat.
It’s up to me to choose to use that ability and push myself to my limits.
Subsequently, I love myself – proudly and publicly – for continually working to strengthen my weaknesses, and maximize my strengths.
In that order. (And that doesn’t originate with me – I’ve found the core concept in myriad inspirational works, some of them ancient. It’s a universal principle.)
1. Why I changed my name in the first place
I wanted to distance myself from the contradictory altruistic duality that I had grown up with and lived under for many years, and make a literal and figurative break from my dad, the most talented person I have ever known and the most glaring example of destruction and failure that comes from lacking the virtue of selfishness.
2. Why I am such an Ayn Rand / Objectivism believer
She opened my eyes – much in the same way as her character Hank Rearden had his eyes opened – to the truth of the duality I was attempting to (miserably) live with, and simply gave logical answers to the “why” questions I had been asking my whole life. I had been living her principles in some respects, but because of church-espoused-altruism, hating myself for it. Now I’m simply proud of it, and proud to be constantly evolving into a person worth being proud of.
3. Why I chose the name Galt
I wanted a name that inspires me to greatness, that reminds me every time I hear it of what I am capable of and who I was born to be, and that encapsulates my beliefs and existence as succinctly as possible.