Richard Stephenson Keynote Speech @ Atlas Society 2025 Gala

Set against the glittering skyline of Chicago and the iconic dome of the Adler Planetarium, The Atlas Society hosted its 9th Annual Gala, honoring our 2025 Lifetime Achievement Award recipient, Richard J. Stephenson. An entrepreneur, philanthropist, and founder of Cancer Treatment Centers of America, Gateway for Cancer Research, and International Capital Investment Company, Stephenson captivated guests with stories from his extraordinary life -- including some unforgettable exchanges with Ayn Rand. We invite you to read the transcript of his inspiring remarks below, or watch the full address HERE.

Speaker: Richard J. Stephenson

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Oh, my goodness. You see me lowering the mic for a reason. You in the back of the room can't tell; I'll just tell you the truth now; this is as tall as it gets. Doesn't get any taller than this, but I make the most of this miniature guy.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, friends, and my always present and lovely family, thank you for this gracious introduction. And even more so, thank you for welcoming me into your ranks this evening and for doing so in Chicago.That you haven't been mugged is a miracle. Let's hope that that continues this evening. Well, thank you for the gracious invitation, JAG, for goodness sake, and even more, thank you for welcoming me, as I said. A little mention of our family. I have nine grandchildren. These are not my grandchildren. These are a part of the eight children. Get used to it. That's what liberty does. That's what free markets provide. And there are drug companies that helped us as well.

Being honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award is far more than flattering. It's an affirmation, for me, for the values I've defined. My life and business do indeed establish a firm foundation upon which to live and conduct oneself. In many ways, tonight feels like a philosophical homecoming for me. (Are you able to hear me? I didn't ask the question: Do you want to hear me?) And like other college homecomings at this time of the year, I too brought something with me to share and talk about: my convictions.

I stand before you not as a theorist nor an academic, but as someone more practical, more unexpected, perhaps, and maybe even a bit more dangerous—a businessman with convictions.

I stand before you not as a theorist nor an academic, but as someone more practical, more unexpected, perhaps, and maybe even a bit more dangerous—a businessman with convictions. Those convictions came early for me, thanks to my incredible parents and the moral code they insisted we live by. They didn't believe in comfort as a goal, and we certainly never had a chance to get too comfortable. 

An example that I told others: We moved nine times before I was 12, renting homes wherever we could in a little rural community in Indiana. Three of our homes didn't even have indoor plumbing. That, though, was for me an opportunity. I was responsible for taking the pots from underneath the beds and delivering them in the outhouse. It worked well. My brother was not a very accommodating guy, so I didn't like the task, but I got 25 cents per pot per week to do it. Hey, it's money. I attribute this largely to what they taught me about dignity coming not from how much you own, but how fully you own yourself and like them I believe firmly that man must first own himself. Indeed, his first property right is himself.

In short, my parents were my earliest moral philosophers. They didn't know that—I didn't either—but it was true. They instilled in me what I now recognize as the guiding principles of classical liberalism. Work mattered, integrity was nonnegotiable, and you always helped others. The moral code, though never at the expense of your values. And if you said you're going to do something, you better do it.

As an 8-year-old, I was paid a dollar to mow an average city lot, but I discovered that I could hire other youngsters to mow the lot for 50 cents. And I kept the other 50 cents. That's called adolescent leverage.

My parents also taught me to shun envy and to respect work, even if it meant delivering newspapers before dawn or mowing lawns for a dollar. Both of which I began doing at an exceptionally young age. Until, of course, I discovered the value of leverage. As an 8-year-old, I was paid a dollar to mow an average city lot, but I discovered that I could hire other youngsters to mow the lot for 50 cents. And I kept the other 50 cents. That's called adolescent leverage. I considered—and that's before I knew what they did know—they knew that to improve their prior condition they could accept that 50 cents. 

I consider this my own early-life testament to the Austrian conviction that man acts and he does so always to improve his prior condition. There're no exceptions to that. Man acts, and the rest of it, you know, is history. In brief, from my parents I learned that self-ownership is not a burden, and dignity comes not from comfort but from conviction. Those invaluable life lessons and moral teachings ultimately led me to Wabash College. And while I thought I was coming to a genteel all-men's school, that doesn't mean there aren't ladies who show up on the weekends.

All-men's school and a rigorous liberal arts college to be sure. What I soon discovered is much more akin to a philosophical boot camp, thanks to professors and thinkers like Dr. Floyd Arthur Harper, more commonly known as Baldy Harper, and Milton Friedman who wrote his book there, Friedrich von Hayek, Ludwig von Mises, Karl Popper, Benjamin Rogge, and that just names a few, and I was catapulted into the world of libertarian ideas. In fact, I was Baldy's senior fellow at Wabash when he launched the Institute for Human Studies in 1961. A little taste of how my background is filled with extraordinarily gifted scholars, these legends and intellectual giants in bow ties and sometimes smoking a pipe. And at Wabash, you'd as often have your classes in the bar nearby or in the home of the professor. And if he smoked in the home, it was just your fate. They became my mentors, all of them—many of them I won't have time to talk about—and also my friends.

I attended the intellectually challenging lectures of Mises...and the one and only Ayn Rand in various other New York City venues.

Eventually, they ushered me into the Foundation for Economic Education at Irvington-on-Hudson, New York, as the first graduate fellow in political economy. Collectively, the many fine gentlemen and ladies with whom I was surrounded at FEE put me on a fast track to intellectual discomfort, constantly opening doors to provocative new ways of thinking, none of which I would have had available to me in Sheridan, Indiana. They also contributed mightily to the rarefied beginning of my exciting exposure to real libertarianism. By day, I sat in their lectures five days a week. By night, I attended the intellectually challenging lectures of Mises at New York University (Mises also was faculty at FEE), and the one and only Ayn Rand in various other New York City venues. More on that to come.

This was supplemented by near-nightly discussions with Murray Rothbard, a night owl. Rothbard's insights on economics, history and political theory made him a central figure, you know that, of the American libertarian movement. And I had the privilege of regularly engaging with him in direct discussions and debate until 4 o' clock in the morning. I had to catch a train back to Irvington-on-Hudson. 

All of this is to say that I had the incredible good fortune of hearing, learning, debating, and being challenged firsthand by those at the forefront of classical liberalism in our country (I also had exposure to the Europeans; we won't talk about that); they challenged the status quo and demonstrated both the power and necessity of conviction. I count those years surrounded by renowned thinkers among the most exhilarating of my life, only topped by my loving marriage to Stacie, and my dynamite children and grandchildren; and while often entirely over my head, I was thrilled to be in those insightful waters.

Ayn Rand famously despised the word libertarian, considering anyone who defined himself as such a plagiarist of Objectivism. Yet she may have been the single most effective recruiter for the modern libertarian movement.

Now, speaking of Rand, I'll first address the paradox in this room. The brilliant and formidable Ayn Rand famously despised the word libertarian, considering anyone who defined himself as such a plagiarist of Objectivism. Yet she may have been the single most effective recruiter for the modern libertarian movement, certainly in this country and actually globally. I speculate that, like me, many of you here this evening came into the liberty movement by way of Rand. Is that correct? Just say yes and go along with my theory.

Personally speaking, she was one of the most significant influences in my life, repeatedly reinforcing my commitment to libertarianism. And while that was likely not her intention, I feel confident she'd be pleased with the overall outcome. Not a casual conversationalist, Rand demanded clarity and refused to be condescending—or even be nice. As some of you who knew her know, she was unflinching, unapologetic, and absolutely certain that ideas mattered. She gave breath to philosophy. She showed that reasoning, building, and creating things aren't just useful practices. Rather, they're morally righteous pursuits. She insisted that achievement isn't shameful, but rather glorious and something toward which everyone should apply their talents and their efforts. She was also unwavering in her Objectivism, or seemed to be. This was proven time and again, including at a particularly memorable dinner engagement. I wasn't the only one at the dinner, but I was the one she decided to point out.

When the salt shaker refused to pour. I watched as Ms. Rand removed the cap. I wanted to bring that up (and there's no salt shakers on your table) and poured the salt into her palm, sprinkled what she needed on her meal, then flicked the rest of it over her shoulder, saying, here's for luck. Well, I couldn't pass up the chance to point out to her that her words seemed more than a little incongruous for an Objectivist. She called me a fool. She was right. I was a guest. 

That comment went over with her about as well as you could imagine if you liked lead balloons, and as a result, I have the dubious distinction of having been labeled a miscreant by Ayn Rand herself.

That comment went over with her about as well as you could imagine if you liked lead balloons, and as a result, I have the dubious distinction of having been labeled a miscreant by Ayn Rand herself. And she refused to invite me to the next dinner gathering, and she abandoned any thought of inviting me to some of her lectures, so I didn't do so well. But that evening underscored the following about Rand and her teachings: Ideas are serious business, words matter, and our values must always be our compass, and offhand observations by me were sometimes unwelcome, and they had consequences. Never saw her very much after that, Ms. Rand, and we'd had a pretty good time for half of the summer.

Rand taught us that philosophy is not wallpaper. Instead, it is the blueprint for everything we build. So, I built.

Ms. Rand may have rejected the label and despised the word libertarian, but she delivered thousands of minds into the very movement. She lit the match, even if she didn't like the fire department. Personally, I remain forever indebted to her for that spark. But what does all this have to do with business? Rand taught us that philosophy is not wallpaper. Instead, it is the blueprint for everything we build. So, I built. I'll give you a few real world examples from someone who has built many businesses after studying and wholeheartedly subscribing to the tenets of libertarianism and Ms. Rand's stance that liberty is a moral birthright:

During law school, I established International Capital Investment Company, which I still lead today. That was my first foray into the realm of creation and taking a risk in order to bring something into existence that I envisioned could make a difference. It has been my proving ground for the libertarian and objectivist philosophies that have enabled me to own myself, act, and maintain incredible personal freedom globally. I'm active on six continents, never wavering from these principles.

While I have created and now control many businesses, I don't own anything, by the way. That's another trick. But I control a number of things, and I can't tell you how many things my wife probably controls. Even probably, she's gotten to a place where she owns most of it, and I know my children are about that task, too.

But anyway, the most profound business adventure of my life came as a result of my mother's death from cancer. Through her journey, I saw how government and bureaucracy fundamentally dismantles and destroys the dignity of the individual every day. I vowed to change that. In 1988, six years after my mother's death, I founded Cancer Treatment Centers of America. As JAG told you, there I learned what Rand's principles and philosophy meant in the real world under the harsh light of hospital dependence upon governmental largesse, irrational compliance, dicta, and horrid bureaucratic controls. Most people think our country has a free-market healthcare system. But nothing could be further from the truth.

84% of American healthcare spending is government spending. That's a greater share than observed in the United Kingdom.

84% of American healthcare spending is government spending. That's a greater share than observed in the United Kingdom. That explicitly socialized medicine is their favor. In the American healthcare sector, government regulations, price controls, subsidies, taxation, insurance schemes, licensing laws that privilege providers over patients, policies that stifle the breakthroughs from creative innovators, and more, have left only enough of the free market to make a mockery of it.

Regardless of the nonsense that commonly exists in healthcare today, I was determined to uphold a radical idea that cancer and treatment must always and only be about the patient—not the state, hospital, insurance companies, doctors, nurses, the protected companies—the patient is the only true consumer of this good whose voice should be heard. If that sounds like a slogan, let me show you how literally I meant it.

My five hospitals were the first in the country to bring onto the medical staff podiatrists, chiropractors, massage therapists, (everybody thought massage spreads the cancer—nonsense; massage therapy relieves the anxiety of the patient), nature pass psychoimmunologists (many people couldn't get that mouthful out, so it was never brought on board), and others probably never seen in the hospital setting. We didn't do it to be trendy, quirky or different. We did it because patients wanted options and the autonomy and agency to play an active and determinative role in their own care. 

I share Rand's scathing critique of government. I have better lawyers than the government will ever have. I share Rand's scathing critique of government when it extends its reach beyond protecting and preserving individual rights.

When the FDA or other regulatory or government bodies attempted uninvited inspections of my hospitals, I would greet them this way: you have two choices, gentlemen or ladies. Present a court order or leave. I never saw or abided a court order and they left and eventually tired of the effort. I share Rand's scathing critique of government. I have better lawyers than the government will ever have. I share Rand's scathing critique of government when it extends its reach beyond protecting and preserving individual rights. Murray Rothbard, among others, proved there is no need for governmental meddling of any kind, regardless. Here, here! Our facilities were private, our mission sacred in my mother's memory, and our doors not open to coercive trespass.

We also reorganized hospital services and logistics in a way that brought all of our care programs and services to the patient rather than forcing patients to move through the maze of typical hospitals to try to find their next appointment or a necessary restroom, only then to waste their precious time awaiting the doctor, the nurse. Not right. We didn't do this because focus groups told us to. We did it because of something far more radical. We listened to our patients and abided their wishes and values. 

As an example, we always invited patients to our board meetings and they were the first voices to be heard. Tell us about your experiences with us, and how could we be better? I would say. Sometimes we’d discover there are certain problems existing in the hospital that should be corrected and corrected right now. And I didn't go ahead with the board meeting. More than one board meeting was called, numerous board meetings were never followed, and the only thing I ever looked at was the experience of the patient.

If you take good care of your customer, you don't need to worry about the financials. They take care of themselves.

Experience we need sometimes to get to financials. If you take good care of your customer, you don't need to worry about the financials. They take care of themselves. And that's what we did. Our institutions quickly became the pioneers of patient empowerment medicine. Lots of literature on that one. And medicine in your suite when you wanted it delivered to you, not when it was convenient for doctors, nurses or other ancillary staff to permit you to be seen by them. Nonsense. You called the shots. We lobbied and advocated successfully for the federal government's compassionate use exemption. I'd love to tell you that story of me standing in the Congress making it happen so that terminal patients could access treatments and devices from anywhere in the world, even though they were not yet approved by the FDA.

When someone else's life is literally on the line, process delays of any kind are an obscene injustice and a disgusting kind of cruelty. Why did we do all of this? Because I believe, as Ayn Rand taught, the individual matters morally. And as I learned from my many mentors, value is subjective, not something that can be dictated by a planning committee. And no bureaucrat should ever come between a patient and their doctors. Don't you agree? I mean, it's so simple. It's so simple. As we know, the individual holds unique knowledge of his or her circumstances, values and priorities, and we believe that we must honor that knowledge. That, to me, is the heart of libertarianism. This is not theory, this is action. It's real world resistance to coercion, and real world empowerment of the individual. And that's what we did.

Entrepreneurship is not mere commerce, it's creation. It's the highest practice of liberty and an extension of libertarianism and the philosophy put forth by Rand.

Entrepreneurship is not mere commerce, it's creation. It's the highest practice of liberty and an extension of libertarianism and the philosophy put forth by Rand. My convictions have never been limited to my ventures in business and healthcare. And thankfully, I've been able to contribute to expanding the libertarian cause. With my family, I established the Stephenson Institute for Classical Liberalism at Wabash College—it's only five years old and it's international—to ensure that young scholars could encounter an unapologetic defense of freedom before it is more unfashionable or compromised.

So, all of this is why I say I'm a Randian libertarian businessman; not a utopian dreamer, but a man who demands consistency between principles and action. I believe the ideas of liberty, when paired with action, can literally transform lives. Indeed, it's the only thing that can.

Tonight, I accept this award. I do so not for the past, but for the tomorrows we still must shape. Thank you for honoring me. And thank you for fanning the flames Rand ignited. As we turn those flames into a bonfire, let's be clear in purpose, bold in execution, and generous in spirit. In doing so, we'll win more than arguments. We'll change lives while paying tribute to the giants who lit the way, forging new paths and amplifying audacious belief—the audacious belief that the individual is the hero of every story. Let's all have the courage to build anew. Because, as my father would say, and as my family would expect me to say, now it's time to kick the tires, light the fires, and get on down the road in the celebration of life, love and liberty. Thank you, God bless you, and God bless liberty.

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