If we could imagine an individual absolutely isolated, and having

no relation at all with other sentient beings, _we_ could not say

that it was moral or immoral for him to eat, drink, sleep, breathe,

wash himself, take exercise, cough, sneeze, and the like, just as

much or as little, when or where he felt inclined. His conduct in

these activities must appear to us absolutely indifferent. We may

have some vague reflected suppositions as to what is necessary for

the dignity and development of the man’s “self,” as we might call

it; but this is a matter about which the man may pretend to know

as much as we do; and we have really no valid ground for prejudice

against the habits of the recluse Indian fakir, who has, on the

other hand, considerable claims to be regarded as a peculiarly holy

individual. But of every man living in society we can say, that if he

starves himself into inefficiency; if he gorges or fuddles himself;

if he sleeps unseasonably; if he abstains from the fresh air, the

cleanliness, and the exercise, necessary to keep his body healthy and

his presence pleasant; if he destroys his powers by over-work; then he

is acting wrongly, immorally, unreasonably, in extreme cases insanely.

(Insanity is only the name we give to abnormal deviation from what

are accepted as reasonable and intelligible desires and behavior.)

And if this is the case with actions of the kind loosely described as

self-regarding, with those which most nearly concern the agent’s own

person, much more is it so with the kind of actions which necessarily

and invariably affect other persons. Those relations of the individual

with his fellows in which subjective morality is chiefly recognized,

have no existence at all apart from society. Subjective morality,

then, being only distinguishable in the State, the extent of our

panorama is already much diminished; for in every gentile or national

society, and to some degree in the World-State of to-day, we find the

individualist activity, the desire and passion of the human unit, very

largely exercising itself in accordance with what we call a moral

habit. Innumerable types of society have been formed in the process of

life-development. In the oldest of these we recognize the elements of a

conventional morality, similar to that by which our own human society

is held together. We consider the ways of the ant; and we see that they

are wise.

We find that in all societies those actions and habits are approved as

moral which tend to preserve the existence of society and the cohesion

and convenience of its members; and that those which are or seem to be

fraught with contrary tendencies are considered immoral. It is plain

that no society in which these judgments were habitually reversed

could continue in existence; and this fact will account for much of

that general inherited disposition to actions socially beneficial,

and inherited repugnance to those presumably the reverse, which form

so large a part of what we speak of as conscience. So deep in grain

have many of these common judgments come to be that their influence

has passed out of consciousness; and they are obeyed automatically or

instinctively without any reflexion as to their moral aspect arising in

the agent’s mind. It is, for example, so necessary for the existence

of society that the citizen should abstain from slaughtering at large,

such self-restraint is so evidently reasonable, its non-observance

so contrary to common sense, that when we find a murder done for

mere desire of bloodshed and under the impulse of no other passion

whatsoever, we do not think of the murderer as immoral, but rather

as insane, judging the man who would destroy the life of society as

coroners’ juries by their habitual verdict upon suicides pronounce of

the man who destroys his own.

Most of the habits of activity and avoidance, necessary for the mere

physical existence of the individual as moral actions and abstentions

are necessary for the existence of society, have long ago become

automatic, and are sunk, so far as common opinion is concerned,

permanently out of the purview of moral criticism. All the involuntary

functions of the human body which conduce to its nutrition and

maintenance in health have been gradually acquired in the course of

ages, as the conditions necessary for the expression of the mere animal

will to live the largest and freest life permitted by the physical

environment. And as the bodily form and functions of the typical

individual of each species have accrued and become established as the

indispensable mechanic of the mere determination to exist, so the form

and institution of society, and the relations and mutual behavior of

its individuals, have been adjusted and established as the equally

indispensable conditions for the expression of the determination to

exist more fully, for the enlargement of freedom and opportunity for

the gratification of those passions and aspirations, the display of

those energies and activities which characterize the more complex forms

of life as it passes from the inorganic and vegetative to the conscious

and self-conscious stages of its evolution.

The primitive forms of human society we must infer to have grown up

and survived simply because they increased the efficiency of man

as a feeding and a fighting animal, just as did those of the wolf,

the beaver, and the ant. Society has now grown to be for man the

indispensable guarantee not only of nutrition and protection, but of

the opportunity to imagine and attain a thousand varieties of more

refined satisfaction. So far as man has attained freedom to do and

be as he desires, he has attained it only through the evolution of

society. When a society perishes, as societies organically weak among

stronger competitors have done and will do, the individual perishes

with it, or is forced backwards with impaired freedom until a fresh

social integration renews and extends his powers of self-development.

Societies, as has been pointed out by Sidney Webb on page 51, must

safeguard their existence to-day for the very same reasons for which

society has formed itself. It has grown up for the convenience of

individuals, for their defence and relief under the pressure of

all that was not themselves--of Nature, as we call it--beasts, and

competing men, to give a little breathing space, a little elbow

room, amid the storm and stress of primæval existence; and from

that beginning it has been unfolded and elaborated, each step of

progress effected for the convenience of active individuals, until the

individual of to-day is born as a leaf upon a mighty tree, or a coral

insect in a sponge, himself to live his individual life, and in living

it to modify the social organism in which he has his being.

Reviewing the development in society of the conditions for the

satisfaction of the individual will to live, and to live in the best

way conceivable, we see in the progress of moral ideas the progress of

discovery of the most reasonable manner of ordering the life of the

individual and the form of social institutions under the contemporary

environment. It has already been pointed out that some kinds of

anti-social action are so unreasonable, so obviously prejudicial

to the attainment of the common end of conscious individuals, that

we brand them unhesitatingly as insane. Instances suggested were

extreme personal uncleanliness or dissipation, and extreme cruelty

or blood-thirstiness. The reason why other anti-social or indirectly

suicidal kinds of action are not yet classed as madness, though there

is a steady tendency towards so treating them, is plainly that some

activities of the individual, though hurtful to other citizens just

as the activity of a pack of wolves or a predatory tribe is hurtful

to adjacent societies, are commonly aimed at gratifying impulses and

passions which are not yet grown so rare as blood-thirst, are not yet

recognized as irrational or valueless, or even are acknowledged to be

in their proper scope harmless, desirable, or necessary.

It is an established social convention (in England) that it is immoral

to steal or to defraud. Only in very extreme cases do we account these

pursuits as evidences of mania; for though injustice and dishonesty are

incompatible with the health of society, and thus actually unreasonable

and indirectly suicidal, the desires which prompt men to them are only

at worst exaggerations of the desire for wealth or subsistence, which

everyone recognizes as a necessary condition of the mere continuance

of life. Nay, where the alternative is death for lack of subsistence,

many consider that neither are immoral. At the other extreme, when the

instinct prompts aggression in defiance of the conscious reason and

without assignable purpose of gain, when Jean Valjean robs the little

Savoyard, or a noble earl pockets the sugar-tongs, we speak of mental

aberration or of kleptomania.

The case of self-defence is similar. Quarrelsomeness and violence

are destructive of social existence, or at best impede its higher

elaboration. But readiness of resentment and quickness of fist were

for ages and ages necessities for individual survival; and for ages

and ages more their kindred social qualities or spirit and valor were

necessary for social survival, and accordingly ranked as virtues. The

instruction to turn the other cheek to the smiter is even now, perhaps,

an exaggeration of the precept commendable to Socialists when charged

by the London police: to suffer one’s self to be killed without reason

is clearly and unmistakably immoral. As the western world advances

out of warfare into industry, more and more of what was once military

virtue becomes immorality in the individual; until an habitual ferocity

which might once have qualified its subject for chieftainship may

nowadays consign him to penal servitude or Bedlam.

The foregoing illustrations have been treated, for the present purpose,

with reference only to the effect of the behavior of the individual

upon society. It is indeed certain that anti-social action does not,

as a rule, effect permanent satisfaction for the individual (isolated

instances, of the type of Shelley’s Count Cenci, notwithstanding); but,

independently of this, the actions and propensities of the individual

have always, it appears, been judged by his fellows moral or immoral

chiefly according to their supposed effects upon society. The object of

every living creature being to do as he pleases, if what he pleases to

do incommodes other people they will take measures to restrain him from

doing it. This they strive to effect by means of laws and conventional

codes of morality, the main difference between the two being that the

code of law is enforced by the infliction of direct personal punishment

by the officers of the State. This acceptance of codes of laws and

conventions of morality leads to a secondary series of judgments as

to right and wrong; for it comes to be accounted immoral to break the

law whether the law itself be good or not, and reprehensible to depart

from convention whether convention be any longer reasonable or not.

This secondary morality is as it were the bud-sheath of the individual,

which support he cannot dispense with until he has come to his full

powers, but which he must dispense with if he is to fully realise his

own freedom. Customary morality prevents him during the process of his

education from pursuing his own satisfaction across the corns of his

fellow creatures. In the process of education he learns that for the

unit in society the word _self_ includes more than the individual:

the infant very soon finds out that what disagrees with his mother

disagrees with him; the child, that the failure of his father’s income

means misery and hunger to the family. To say nothing of the facts

of sympathy, every man born into an advanced society is early made

aware that the satisfaction of his mere material needs depends upon

the activities of that society around him quite as much as upon his

own. All through the growth of nations and societies the complexity

of this interdependence of individuals has increased, the areas of

social consciousness have been extended and unified, from the solitary

cave-dweller to the family or horde, from the tribe to the nation, and

from the nation, by commerce, to the world, till the fortunes of each

people have power over the hopes and fears of workers in every other,

and the arts, the learning, and the literature of a hundred painful

civilizations are available for us to-day, all the kingdoms of the

earth and their glory displayed in a moment of time.

But not by bread alone does mankind live. Very early in the course of

human evolution must the type of individual to whom all society was

repugnant have been eliminated and suppressed by natural selection.

The social instinct, the disposition to find comfort in comradeship

independently of its material advantages, is of such evident

antiquity in Man that we are justified in speaking of it as one of

his fundamental and elementary characteristics. It is easy enough to

suggest theories of the origin of this adhesiveness, this affection,

this sympathy, in the conditions of racial survival: the important fact

for us is its remarkable susceptibility of cultivation and extension.

The individual in society does that which is pleasant to his friends,

and abstains from doing that which is unpleasant, not because he likes

to be thought a good fellow, or expects benefits in return, but simply

because it gives him immediate pleasure so to act. He is sensitive to

that which hurts them, not because he fears that his own defences are

weakened by their injury, but because they have actually become part of

himself by the extension of his consciousness over them. This social

instinct, this disposition to benevolent sympathy, appears almost

as inextinguishable as the personal desire of life: in innumerable

instances it has proved far stronger.

The recognition by each individual of his dependence on society or

sensitiveness to his own interest, and his affection towards society

or sensitiveness to its interest: these two faces of the same fact

represent an intricate tissue of social consciousness extremely

sensitive to all kinds of anti-social, or immoral, action. The moral

education of the individual appears formally as the process of

learning, by sheer extension of knowledge and experience, and nothing

else, how he may harmonise and follow out his own desires in these two

aspects and their combinations. He has to learn how to provide for the

needs of his bodily life in a manner that will not interfere with the

freedom of others to do the same. Laws and conventions of morality

guide him at first in this respect; but the man cannot be said to be

free until he acts morally because, foreseeing that on the satisfaction

of these primary needs new desires will emerge whose satisfaction

will give him a more exquisite contentment, he perceives that it is

reasonable so to act. The existence and stability of society are the

indispensable guarantee for the general satisfaction of the primary

desires of individuals, therefore it is unreasonable to weaken society

by immoral action; but much more are the existence and health of

society indispensable conditions for the common birth and satisfaction

of the secondary desires, the desires which have created all that is

most valuable in civilisation and which find their satisfaction in

art, in culture, in human intercourse, in love. The moral education

of the individual is the lesson, not that desire is evil, and that he

can only attain his freedom by ceasing to desire, for this is death,

or desertion, and the army of the living presses on to fuller life;

but that the wider, fuller satisfaction is built upon the simpler, and

common morality a condition of its possibility; that there are certain

manners and methods in which, if he goes about to save his life, he

most infallibly will lose it; and that love, the social instinct, and

science, which is ordered knowledge, are his only reliable tutors in

practical morality.

But man in society not only lives his individual life: he also

modifies the form of social institutions in the direction indicated by

reason--in such a manner, that is, as it seems to his understanding

will render them more efficient for securing freedom for that life

of his. And just as certain forms of individual activity, in their

passage into and through the field of positive criticism, appear first

as indifferent, because they seem to concern the individual only, then

as moral or immoral, because recognized as affecting society, later

as simply rational or insane, morality having here formally attained

its identification with reason and immorality with folly, and at

last become habitual, instinctive, and unconscious; so institutions,

originating in modes apparently accidental, come to be recognized

as useful and valuable additions to the machinery of existence, are

buttressed with all the authority and sanction of religion, and finally

pass into unquestioned acceptance by the common-sense of men. In time

some fundamental change in the conditions of the life of individuals

is introduced by causes similarly unforeseen: the form of the old

institution ceases to subserve the common end: it begins to cramp the

freedom of the majority, who no longer require its support. Meanwhile

it has established a minority, ostensibly controlling it for the

common weal, in a position to administer it in the sole interest of

their class. These, as their existence appears dependent on their

so administering it, cannot be untaught the habit except by such

modification of the institution as will render it again impossible for

any class to have a special interest in its contemporary form.

This process is so familiar in history that it would be a waste of

time here to illustrate it by tracing it in the growth of monarchies,

aristocracies, priesthoods, chattel slavery, feudal bondage,

representative government, or others of its innumerable manifestations.

The institution of private property in certain things is in many

respects so reasonable and convenient for the majority of mankind,

and was so conspicuously advantageous for those stronger individuals

under whose leadership the beginnings of tribal civilisations were

developed, that very early in their history it received the sanction

of moral convention, religion, and law. It was obviously necessary

for the establishment of industrial society, that each man should own

the product of his labor and the tools necessary for him to labor

effectually. But the Industrial Revolution described in the third paper

of this series has entirely changed the conditions under which men

produce wealth, and the character of the tools with which they work,

while the sanctions of law and conventional morality still cling to

all that has been imported under the old definition of property. If

the idea so constantly appealed to in justification of property law

is to be realised; if the fruits of each man’s labor[68] are to be

guaranteed to him and he is to own the instruments with which he works;

if the laws of property are not to establish a parasitic class taking

tribute from the labor of others in the forms of Rent and Interest,

then we must modify our administration of property. We must admit that

as the agricultural laborer cannot individually own the farm he works

on and its stock, as the factory hand cannot individually own the mill,

land and industrial capital are things in which private property is

impossible, except on condition of a small minority owning all such

property and the great majority none at all.

Socialists contend that this system of private property in land and

capital is actively destructive of the conditions in which alone the

common morality necessary for happy social life is possible. Without

any demand upon the faith of those persons who deny the capacity of

average human nature for the temperance and kindliness indispensable

for the success of a true co-operative commonwealth, they assert that

this modern development of the property system (a development of the

last few generations only, and unprecedented in the history of the

world), is more and more forcing the individual into anti-social

disposition and action, and thereby destroying the promise of free and

full existence, which only the health and progressive development of

the social organism can give him. It has become plainly reasonable that

when this is the effect of our property system, we should modify our

institutions in the directions which will give us freedom, just as we

modified the institutions which subjected us to a feudal aristocracy,

and abolished for ever the laws which enabled one man to hold another

as his chattel slave.

There is on record a Greek proverb, that so soon as a man has ensured

a livelihood, then he should begin to practise virtue. We all protest

that he will do well to practise virtue under any circumstances;

but we admit on reflection that our judgment as to what is virtuous

action, depends upon the circumstances under which action is to be

taken. Whether we approve the killing of one man by another, depends

entirely on the circumstances of the case; and there is scarcely one

of the acts which our laws regard as criminal, which could not, under

imaginable circumstances, be justified. Our laws, and our conventional

opinions, as to what conduct is moral or immoral, are adapted to the

ordinary circumstances of the average man in society, society being in

them presumed to be homogeneous, not to contain in itself essential

distinctions between classes, or great contrasts between the conditions

of individuals.

But that element in our private property system which is at present

the main object of the Socialist attack, the individual ownership of

the instruments of production, land and capital, in an age when the

use of those instruments has become co-operative, results, and must

inevitably result, as the foregoing dissertations have sought to prove,

in the division of society into two classes, whose very livelihood is

ensured to them by methods essentially different. The livelihood of

the typical proletarian is earned by the exercise of his faculties for

useful activity: the livelihood of the typical capitalist, or owner of

property, is obtained, without any contribution of his or her activity,

in the form of a pension called rent, interest, or dividend, guaranteed

by law out of the wealth produced from day to day by the activities of

the proletariat.

Fabian Essays in Socialism · 第 13 / 24 段