The first right on earth is the right of the ego.
— Ayn Rand
With her usual authoritarian sweep, Author Ayn Rand strikes a basic blow for her consistent dogma of individualism. Though she is more a cult figure than a popular philosopher, her words mirror an attitude that is becoming more and more common in the U.S., particularly among public figures. Indeed, an increasing number of Americans seem to have concluded that the right to ego implies the duty to exercise it publicly. The result is something of a rout for the time-honored American taboo against tooting one's own horn. Today it is commonplace for Americans to come right out and admit just how wonderful they really are.
Listen to the new surge of self-applause. Television's Howard Cosell ranks himself as a sports commentator: "I really believe I'm the best. My relationship with the men who play the games — all games — is probably unparalleled in this country." Private Citizen Joan Kennedy assesses herself for a Ladies' Home Journal interviewer: "I have talent. I know I'm smart. I got straight A's in graduate school. I've still got my looks. I know I've got all these terrific things going for me. I mean, my God, you are talking to, I think, one of the most fascinating women in this country." Sugar Babies Star Mickey Rooney makes clear he knows all there is to know about the atrics: "I'm 58 years in the theater. No body gives me instructions."
Baseball Player Reggie Jackson speaks of his importance to his sport: "I am the straw that stirs the drink. It all comes back to me." Chrysler Chief Lee lacocca recalls what happened to him while he was rising in the busi ness world: "I got pretty damn good." Chicago Realty Mogut Evangeline Gouletas awards herself an ovation on the eve of marrying Governor Hugh Carey of New York: "In Chicago, they love me. In Chicago, I am already First Lady." Novelist Gore Vidal confides why the New York Times published a favorable review of his new book Creation: "They're desperate for me to write for them."
Bleats of unchecked egoism are now so commonplace that self-glorification may be well on the way to becoming standard American style. Yet such an epidemic of flagrant braggadocio would have scandalized the country not long ago. Most Americans have always felt, as many still feel, dutybound to sniff at the ostentatious chest thumper and look down on all public boasting. Brazen self-admiration has never been considered criminal, nor necessarily degenerate, but it has always been judged tacky — poor form, at best. Good form has always required reticence about one's virtues. To think well of oneself was one thing, but, under the traditional rules, it was quite an other to give voice to one's privately cultivated selfesteem. In deed, even if somebody else called attention to one's admirable points, one was supposed to disclaim the praise.