The Fountainhead Howard Roark Quotes

Reason, as depicted by Ayn Rand in The Fountainhead and embodied by the protagonist,

Howard Roark, is the lifeblood of human progress. The theme of Rand’s novel—the

notion that the self-sufficient ego is the fountainhead of human progress—is inextricably

linked to a single philosophic idea: that man’s strength is the product of his reasoning

mind. By portraying Howard Roark as the fulfillment of human potential, celebrating

his ego-affirming independence, and emphasizing his reliance on reason, Rand links

the faculty of reason to the demanding task of self-actualization. As Roark observes,

reason is something “no one really wants to have on his side” (Rand 165). Throughout

The Fountainhead, it becomes apparent that Roark, in contrast to other

characters, such
as Ellsworth Toohey, Peter Keating, and Gail Wynand, is unique in his willingness to
embrace his reasoning mind, as demonstrated by his propensity for action rather than
reaction, his indifference to the opinions of others, and his commitment to rational
self-interest.
Rand’s definition of “reason” is central to the role it plays in The Fountainhead. According
to Rand, reason is “the faculty which identifies and integrates the material provided
by man’s senses” (qtd. in Peikoff, “Philosophy of Objectivism”). Its validity rests on
the notion that man’s senses accurately perceive the tangible state of affairs known as
“reality” that “exists independent of consciousness” (Peikoff, Philosophy of Objectivism).
Reason rejects the concept that an individual is subject to the will of God or accountable
to the “common good” of the group, offering instead a moral compass based on objective
evidence that affirms the self generated truth of the individual. In The Fountainhead,
commitment to the solitary process of reason separates the independent “creator” from
the self-sacrificing “second-hander.”
Roark demonstrates his commitment to reason in the opening chapter of The
Fountainhead by revealing his unwillingness to act on the impulse of emotion. For
example, upon learning of his expulsion from Stanton, Roark tells the Dean, “I don’t
usually let things happen to me . . . I shouldn’t have waited for you to throw me out.
I should have left long ago” (Rand 22). Irritated by Roark’s calm demeanor, the Dean
wishes Roark would react emotionally. Roark’s actions, however, are driven not by the
inconsistent whims of emotion but by the intransigent force of reason. Rand writes,
“[Roark] had met many men such as the Dean; he had never understood them. He
knew there was some important difference between his actions and theirs . . . he knew
the source of his actions, but he could not discover theirs” (Rand 27). This comment
reveals the force that sets Roark apart from other men—the self-generated sense of
purpose that guides his reasoning mind.

Roark’s indifference to traditional definitions of “success” facilitates his devotion to
reason. Even when Roark is desperately in need of a commission, he remains unwilling
to subjugate the creation of his reasoning mind to the collective judgment of “public
taste.” Faced with the request to alter his design to comply with the “unwritten law
that a bank must have a Classic portico” (Rand 196), Roark responds with a powerful
affirmation of reason and logic. The chairman of the bank responds, “there is no
answer to what you’re saying. But unfortunately, in practical life, one can’t always be
so flawlessly consistent. There’s always the incalculable human element of emotion.
We can’t fight that with cold logic” (Rand 196). The bank chairman echoes Roark’s
observation that “reason is something no one really wants on his side.” Roark, however,
forfeits wealth and renown in return for the affirmation of his integrity, joining forces
with the “cold logic” of reason in the fight against the “incalculable element of emotion”
that he sees as a threat to human progress.

Roark’s friendship with the sculptor Steven Mallory further demonstrates his willingness

to heed the call of reason. Despite Mallory’s reputation for violence, and in contrast to

other prominent architects who exploit Mallory for the thrill of exerting their personal

power, Roark respects Mallory for the quality of his sculpture. Skeptical of Roark’s

intentions, however, Mallory demands incredulously, “You decided that you wanted [to

hire] me . . . only because of the things I’ve done . . . only because you saw—and what you

saw made me important to you?” (Rand 327). Roark responds, “I came here for a simple,

selfish reason . . . to seek the best. I didn’t come here for your sake. I came here for

mine” (Rand 328). Roark’s decision rests on the tangible product of Mallory’s creation,

revealing Roark’s respect for objective evidence and his ability to make decisions based

on rational consideration of the material provided by his senses. That Roark does so

purely for the fulfillment of his own self-interest exemplifies his commitment to selfaffirming

reason.
To the degree that Roark embraces reason, Ellsworth Toohey despises it. Physically
weak and lacking the originality of a creator, Toohey is the ultimate second-hander—the
man who attempts to raise himself up on the backs of those he subjugates. Toohey’s
denunciation of reason is rooted in his thirst for power and his understanding that the
reasoning mind poses a threat to the power he seeks, as illustrated by his comment,
“Men have a very powerful weapon against you. Reason. So you must be very careful to
take it away from them . . . can you rule a thinking man? We don’t want thinking men”
(Rand 637). Toohey wants self-sacrificing men, because, as he points out, “where’s
there’s sacrifice, there is someone collecting sacrificial offerings” (Rand, 637).
Peter Keating’s dependency on the approval of others prevents him from accessing
the faculty of his reason. As Roark observes, “others were his motive power and prime
concern. He didn’t want to be great, but to be thought of as great. He didn’t want to
build, but to be admired as a builder” (Rand 605). The function of man’s reasoning mind
is to process the perceptions of his senses and affirm the self-sufficiency of his ego.
Keating cannot perform this function because he perceives the world not through his
own eyes, but though the eyes of those whose approval he craves. Describing Keating’s
victory in a prestigious architectural contest, Rand writes, “Keating let himself be
carried by the torrent . . . He was great, great as the number of people who told him so
. . . He looked at the faces, at the eyes . . . That was Peter Keating, that, the reflection
in those staring pupils” (Rand, 188). Keating’s rejection of reason stems from his lack
of self-respect and his unwillingness to embrace the principled life of the thinking
man. Dominique Francon’s dual desire to love and defeat Howard Roark mirrors
her contradictory approach to reason. Dominique’s contempt for the mediocrity of
society gives her an air of self-assurance and strength, while simultaneously making her
vulnerable to irrationality. As Gail Wynand observes, Dominique is in love with “integrity
. . . the impossible . . . the clean, consistent, reasonable, self-faithful . . . like a work of art
. . . in the flesh” (Rand 496). This love for integrity fuels Dominique’s admiration and
hate for Roark, evident in her comment, “I’m going to fight you . . . destroy you—and I’m
going to pray that you can’t be destroyed” (Rand 272). Just as she destroys a beautiful
statue to save it from the degradation of being seen by other, lesser eyes, Dominique
attempts to destroy Roark to save him from the force of destruction she fears he will
meet in the world. Unlike Roark, whose indifference to the world gives him an optimistic
desire for reason, Dominique’s contemptuous pessimism prompts her to enshrine—
rather than employ—the force of reason.
While Roark acts, Gail Wynand reacts. Like Dominique, Wynand admires Roark’s
commitment to reason, but cannot attain it himself. Although he appears self-confident
and rational, Wynand is in bondage to the childhood of poverty and forced obedience
he strives to overcome. Wynand’s reactionary mindset is exemplified by the name of
his yacht—the I Do—which he describes as “an answer to people long since dead . . .
[because] the sentence I heard most often in my childhood was ‘you don’t run things
around here’” (Rand 443). Though a self affirming answer, the “I Do” still reflects
dependence on the emotional thrill of reaction rather than the deliberate use of reason.
Examining the intersection between the novel’s theme and Rand’s emphasis on the
reasoning mind reveals the influence of historical context on The Fountainhead’s theme.
By associating reason with the self-actualized individual and tying it to human progress,
Rand takes up arms against the notion of the “collective mind” in what is perhaps a
reaction to her experiences in Bolshevik Russia. “Communism,” writes Rand, “the Soviet
variety particularly, is not merely an economic theory. Communism is above all a spiritual
theory which denies the individual, not merely as an economic power but in all and every
respect” (Rand 700). Rand’s emphasis on the individualistic nature of reason, as relates
to the theme and embodied by the character of Roark, is her call to action against the
spiritual implications of Communism that she found so stifling.
The Fountainhead hinges on the tension between the individual and the collective, not in
the field of politics or economics, but in the realm of the spirit. Howard Roark’s struggle
against the collective mind reflects Rand’s own battle against the forces of collectivism
that she found oppressive. Roark’s unique commitment to his reasoning mind exemplifies
the rational, ego-affirming impetus behind human progress. As Roark explains,
“Everything we are and everything we have comes from a single attribute of man—the
function of his reasoning mind” (Rand 679). At its essence, The Fountainhead is the story
of Roark’s triumph, and Rand’s emphasis is on the heroic potential of the self-actualized
individual’s reasoning mind—the fountainhead of the ideal world she envisioned.