Many of Ayn Rand's critics accuse her of being a sociopath, a claim which they justify by pointing to an entry in her journal in which she talks about drawing inspiration from the American serial killer William Hickman. The critics then go on to claim that Ayn Rand worshiped Hickman, and that she adorned him with great praise, gushing over him and calling him an ideal man. However, Ayn Rand specifically said that William Hickman was a degenerate. She did not worship him. She simply said that Hickman suggested a certain idea to her, and it was that idea which she liked. Liking an idea that was inspired by a murderer does not mean one likes the murderer.

But isn't it despicable and evil to say that an admirable and noble idea can be inspired by something as horrible as murder? I would say no, not at all. Anyone with any creative talent whatsoever understands that inspiration is a chaotic, unexplainable, and uncontrollable force, and that sometimes it can come from the strangest, most unexpected places. Even something as brutal, inhumane, and downright evil as murder can be the potential jumping point from which a great idea is born.

And even if Ayn Rand did find something compelling in a murderer, she would certainly not be alone. American pop culture glorifies many fictional murderers, including (but certainly not limited to) characters such as Hannibal Lecter, Dexter Morgan, and John Kramer (a.k.a. Jigsaw). And if box office numbers are anything to go by, a significantly high percentage of Americans also find murderers to be compelling and interesting characters. Indeed, the fictional murderers I have listed here are all extremely likable characters, not in spite of their sadistic and bloodthirsty ways, but because of them.

But if we like these fictional characters even though they are murderers, we must ask ourselves why we like them, and what that says about us. Does liking them make us sociopaths? And if it is possible to find a fictional murderer compelling, is it really that much of a stretch to suggest that one might also find some compelling attribute in a real life murderer? It is certainly disturbing to think along these lines, but this is merely the logical conclusion one must reach if one stops to ponder the full implications of enjoying violent and bloody entertainment.

So does the fact that Ayn Rand found something compelling in a murderer prove she was a sociopath? If it does, then we must all be sociopaths as well, for we have all derived some guilty pleasure in watching the blood splatter across the silver screen.