So many pixels have been rendered lately for the sake of hyperbolic takes on Donald Trump that I just have to get in on it. Why should I deny myself the fun? And far from a jeremiad on incipient fascism, my hyperbolic take is one of acknowledgement of the heroic: Donald J. Trump is that hero, a hero right out of the pages of an Ayn Rand novel… and I’m going to make you see it.

I can hear the scoffing protests now. “Donald Trump is base, abrasive, rough, and uncouth,” and so was Ellis Wyatt. “Donald Trump inherited his money;” so did Francisco d’Anconia. “Donald Trump attacks people;” so did Ragnar Danneskjöld. “Donald Trump only wants to make money and put his name on everything;” so did Hank Rearden. “Donald Trump just wants to blow things up;” so did Howard Roark. “Donald Trump is horrible to women;” actually, “horrible” was how Howard Roark treated Dominique Francon, and Trump doesn’t come close.

In Rand’s novels, polite society, in fact just about everyone, hates the hero. Like Donald Trump, each hero is rich, successful, driven, ornery, and unapologetic. In one case, one of Rand’s heroes is hated by his own mother. The media in Rand’s novels print nothing but lies and dark innuendos about her heroes, and most of the people in the story believe those lies and innuendos. And sadly, even though at this point we should really know better, most of us in the real world believe similar wildly biased narratives.

“But Trump used the corrupt system that he now claims to hate.” And by necessity, so do all businessmen, even Rand’s heroes:

“Rearden disliked the subject. He knew that it was necessary to have a man to protect him from the legislature; all industrialists had to employ such men.” (Rand, pg. 40)

“But Trump said that he wasn’t going to accept the results of the election!” Is that what you heard? I heard that same Hank Rearden refusing to grant “sanction of the victim” to an outrageously corrupt kangaroo court:

“If you fine me, you will have to seize my property to collect the fine – I will not volunteer to pay it. If you believe that you have the right to force me – use your guns openly. I will not help you disguise the nature of your actions.” (Rand, pg. 479)

“But Trump is only in it for the power,” and so was Gail Wynand. Unique in the pantheon of Rand’s heroes, Wynand is a tragic hero. His fatal flaw is a quest for power. When Wynand realizes that he wants to be a better person, to use all of the power he’s amassed for a cause that is actually good, that desire comes at the cost of everything he has. Overwhelmed, his world collapsing, powerless despite his power, he caves. In the end, ashamed and broken, he makes good in what small way he can. However, throughout his arc, you desperately want Wynand to succeed.

And will Donald Trump succeed where Gail Wynand failed? Who knows. In the real world, Donald Trump is just a man, as gifted and flawed as any of us. And while it’s possible to fit him (or any of us) into a contrived rubric of hero or villain, in this same real world, any of these rubrics prove to be just a bit hyperbolic.

Rand, Ayn. “Atlas Shrugged,” Plume, August 1999.