The Cult Of Me: When Individualism Devours Society

The pursuit of personal gain overshadows everything else. Even meditation has been reduced to a tool for self-fulfillment, with everyone focused on "abundance" meditations in hopes of achieving their personal desires. Individualism and materialism now dominate our culture.

Ayn Rand’s Objectivism, the philosophy woven through The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged, has seduced generations with its celebration of the individual. It declares rational self-interest as the ultimate moral good, laissez-faire capitalism as the only ethical system, and altruism as a betrayal of human potential. It’s quite the idea—freedom, ambition, the self above all. But don’t sip the Kool-Aid just yet. This philosophy, while seemingly empowering at first, has a darker side, one that’s unraveling the bonds between men and women, and the fabric of our society. The fallout? A world obsessed with status, materialism, and “me first,” where love, connection, and community are left to wither.

Objectivism’s core is simple: reality is objective, reason is our guide, and our highest purpose is personal happiness. Altruism, Rand argued, is a trap; a surrender to mediocrity that rewards weakness and stifles creativity. She wasn’t entirely wrong. Her philosophy, which grew from her escape from Soviet oppression, was a rebuttal to collectivism. In mid-20th-century America, her ideas lit a spark under those craving freedom from the norms. But fast-forward to 2025, and Objectivism’s fingerprints are all over our hyper-competitive, selfie-obsessed culture, often without us even realizing it. We’ve internalized the “every man for himself” idea, and it’s costing us, especially in the realm of relationships.

Objectivism’s core is simple: reality is objective, reason is our guide, and our highest purpose is personal happiness.

Let’s start with love, or what’s left of it. Objectivism’s focus on self-interest has turned romance into a transaction. Dating apps reduce human connection to a swiping marketplace, where looks, status, and wealth trump shared values or emotional depth. It’s individualism in action: everyone’s chasing their own happiness, curating their Instagram-perfect lives, and treating partners like accessories.

This isn’t just about romance and dating. Objectivism’s shadow looms over how men and women interact across the board. It’s turned gender dynamics into a zero-sum game, a battle for dominance rather than a dance and partnership. Men are told to “win” at all costs, whether it’s closing deals or racking up conquests. Women are pushed to prioritize career and independence over family or connection. Social movements have been hijacked by this mindset, setting men and women up as adversaries rather than allies. The result is a cultural stalemate, where duty, trust, and vulnerability—the threads that weave love and friendship—are fraying fast.

The result? A loneliness epidemic that’s hitting hard. Marriages are crumbling; nearly half of first marriages end in divorce because personal fulfillment is often more valued than commitment. Why stick it out when your own happiness is the ultimate moral good?

The rise of Objectivism has disproportionately affected women. For decades, society has pushed women to derive their worth from emulating men and chasing professional success, prioritizing self, status, and stuff above all else. The consequences are evident today.

A recent NBC poll underscores this shift. Among Gen Z men who supported Trump in the election, "having children" ranked as the top marker of a successful life. In stark contrast, Gen Z women who supported Harris placed "having children" second to last. Their top priorities were a "fulfilling job/career," followed by "having money to do things you want.” Spiritual grounding, marriage, and parenthood fell to the bottom of their list; a telling reflection of our cultural moment.

But the damage doesn’t stop at the bedroom door. Objectivism’s “me first” beliefs have reshaped society as a whole into a shrine to materialism. Social media amplifies this, turning life into a highlight reel of overly edited selfies, flashy wardrobes and cars, and higher follower counts.

Remember the 2008 financial crisis? That was Objectivism in action—unchecked greed and excess, justified as rational self-interest. Charity and volunteerism, when they happen, are too often performative, less about helping others and more about boosting one’s status. Compassion, in Rand’s view, is weakness, and we’ve internalized that to a fault. Helping others feels like a detour from the real goal: getting ahead.

Now, before you think I’m waving a red flag for communism, let’s be clear: Rand’s archenemy isn’t the answer either. Collectivism, with its history of authoritarian regimes and economic stagnation, is a misery of its own. The Soviet Union’s collapse, China’s move to state-controlled capitalism, and the human toll of forced equality prove it. Subsuming the individual into the collective kills creativity and causes resentment. It’s not about trading one extreme for another; neither Rand’s radical individualism nor communism’s soul-crushing collectivism will save us.

So, what’s the way forward? It’s balance, ladies and gentlemen; a concept as old as the universe itself. Think about it: ecosystems thrive when species coexist, not when one dominates. Physics reminds us that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Our choices ripple outward, shaping the world in ways we can’t always see. Objectivism ignores this interconnectedness, pretending we’re all lone wolves when, in truth, we’re part of a pack. A society that prioritizes individual gain over collective well-being is like a house built on sand—it might look impressive, but it’s one wave away from collapse.

Rand’s philosophy seduces us because it promises freedom—freedom to be you, to chase your dreams, to shrug off the world’s demands. But freedom without connection is just isolation in disguise.

Many religions, including Christianity and others, emphasize the unity of all people and the importance of loving others as we love ourselves. Indigenous philosophies, like those of many Native American tribes, offer a wiser path as well. They view individual success as inseparable from community health, emphasizing harmony with nature and each other. Eastern traditions like Buddhism echo this, teaching that suffering stems from attachment to self and that liberation comes through compassion.

These aren’t just lofty ideals; they’re practical. We could blend capitalism with strong social safety nets, proving you can embrace innovation without leaving people behind. Education could help, too, by teaching emotional intelligence and our interconnectedness alongside math and science, preparing us to build relationships, not just resumes.

On a personal level, we can reject the Objectivist trap by choosing connection over status. That means investing in relationships—real ones. It means valuing community, whether it’s volunteering without posting it on social media or having an actual conversation with your neighbor. It means recognizing that men and women aren’t enemies in a status war but partners in a shared journey. Love thrives on mutual trust, respect, duty, vulnerability, and balance, not on who’s winning the game of “who’s got more.”

Rand’s philosophy seduces us because it promises freedom—freedom to be you, to chase your dreams, to shrug off the world’s demands. But freedom without connection is just isolation in disguise. We’re lonelier, more divided, and less fulfilled than ever, chasing “more”: more wealth, more status, more self. Communism’s collectivism, meanwhile, smothers the individual, trading one prison for another. The answer lies in harmony, in recognizing that our lives and happiness are intertwined with others’. It’s about building a society where we lift each other up, not outpace each other.

The universe demands balance; it’s written in the stars, the tides, the laws of physics. If we keep ignoring that, the universe will balance things out for us, and it won’t be pretty. So let’s rewrite our story. Let’s choose love over Louis Vuitton, connection over competition, and harmony over hustle. Because in the end, a world where men and women, individuals and communities, thrive together isn’t just utopian, it’s really the only one worth building.