Fountainhead Second Handedness

When readers of Ayn Rand’s novel, The Fountainhead, first encounter Gail Wynand, he is often misinterpreted to be a reflection of the standard selfish businessman who gains pleasure from having power over others and enjoys manipulating people to his will. But when his motivations are fully analyzed it is revealed that he is not, in fact, selfish; rather, he is a precise example of a second-hander – one who only does things and makes progress through others. This second-handedness is what brings him to run a reprehensible paper such as the Banner. Having grown up in the slums of New York City, Wynand had to work and educate himself by his own efforts to escape, so he personally has reason to revere and acknowledges man’s noblest values as what
He went to many different businesses to labor in any position available – usually the lowliest tasks – trying to gain experience and valuable skills while exercising his independence to work for his own benefit. Over time, his jobs involved doing the most unpleasant but necessary tasks, while having to serve simpleminded men. In the course of this part of his life, Wynand developed a tragic flaw; he began to search for power over men. Throughout his many experiences working for different businesses, Wynand always sought for ways to increase productivity in his work. He had ideas such as delivering newspapers to people’s doorsteps and putting milk into bottles – things that later became great business innovations. But as he was only a menial laborer, every time he made a suggestion, he was told, “You don’t run things around here,” and his idea was rejected simply on the premise that since he doesn’t have any authority, his suggestions were worthless (417). These confrontations drove Wynand to search for power; he felt that he would never be able to create change or make his own success if he didn’t rule others. He feared that without controlling individuals, they would rule him instead. To him, having power was the only thing that would separate him from
He wrongly construed his experiences with the Gazette, leading him to believe there was no such thing as real integrity, that every person had flaws that made them despicable characters not able to achieve moral righteousness, whether they were leaders or followers. When Pat Mulligan, a local police captain, was framed for a police beating planned by the Gazette, Wynand took personal action. To Wynand, Pat Mulligan was “the only honest man he had ever met in his life,” so he felt he had to defend him, even though his actions had the potential to destroy the Gazette and his own job (422). He consulted a newspaper clipping on the topic of corruption that he kept in his office and went to find its writer. When Wynand questioned the man responsible for this piece of wisdom, the man replied, “Do you think I remember every piece of swill I write?” (422). This one utterance – one reply from one man in charge of writing a particular column for a particular city paper – destroyed all faith in Wynand that men had the ability to posses any level of integrity in their personal lives or in their work. Ironically, he didn’t feel bitterness towards this man; Wynand was grateful for learning this lesson and from then on based his life on the notion that no one deserved to be great, because no one could truly and fully embody the greatest virtues of