refutations against bourgeois Darwinists, are still faulty. Both sets
of arguments, those used by the bourgeois Darwinists in favor of
capitalism, and those of the Socialists, who base their Socialism on
Darwin, are falsely rooted. Both arguments, although reaching opposite
conclusions, are equally false because they proceed from the wrong
premises that there is a natural and a permanent system of society.
Marxism has taught us that there is no such thing as a natural and
a permanent social system, and that there can be none, or, to put
it another way, every social system is natural, for every social
system is necessary and natural under given conditions. There is not
a single definite social system that can be accepted as natural; the
various social systems take the place of one another as a result of
developments in the means of production. Each system is therefore
the natural one for its particular time. Capitalism is not the only
natural order, as the bourgeoisie believes, and no Socialist system is
the only natural system, as some Socialists try to prove. Capitalism
was natural under the conditions of the nineteenth century, just as
feudalism was in the Middle Ages, and as Socialism will be in the
coming age. The attempt to put forward a certain system as the only
natural and permanent one is as futile as if we were to take an animal
and say that this animal is the most perfect of all animals. Darwinism
teaches us that every animal is equally adapted and equally perfect
in form to suit its special environments, and Marxism teaches us that
every social system is particularly adapted to its conditions, and that
in this sense it may be called good and perfect.
Herein lies the main reason why the endeavor of the bourgeois Darwinists
to defend the foundering capitalist system is bound to fail. Arguments
based on natural science, when applied to social questions, must almost
always lead to reverse conclusions. This happens because, while nature
is very slow in its development and changes within the ken of human
history are imperceptible, so that it may almost be regarded as stable,
human society nevertheless undergoes quick and continuous changes.
In order to understand the moving force and the cause of social
development, we must study society as such. It is only here that we can
find the reason of social development. Marxism and Darwinism should
remain in their own domains; they are independent of each other and
there is no direct connection between them.
Here arises a very important question. Can we stop at the conclusion
that Marxism applies only to society and that Darwinism applies only to
the organic world, and that neither of these theories is applicable
in the other domain? In practice it is very convenient to have one
principle for the human world and another one for the animal world. In
having this, however, we forget that man is also an animal. Man has
developed from an animal, and the laws that apply to the animal world
cannot suddenly lose their applicability to man. It is true that man is
a very peculiar animal, but if that is the case it is necessary to find
from these very peculiarities why those principles applicable to all
animals do not apply to men, and why they assume a different form.
Here we come to another grave problem. The bourgeois Darwinists do
not encounter such a problem; they simply declare that man is an
animal, and without further ado they set about to apply the Darwinian
principles to men. We have seen to what erroneous conclusions they
come. To us this question is not so simple; we must first be clear
about the differences between men and animals, and then we can see why,
in the human world, the Darwinian principles change into different
ones, namely, into Marxism.
VII. THE SOCIABILITY OF MAN.
The first peculiarity that we observe in man is that he is a social
being. In this he does not differ from all animals, for even among the
latter there are many species that live socially among themselves. But
man differs from all those that we have observed until now in dealing
with the Darwinian theory; he differs from those animals that do not
live socially, but that struggle with each other for subsistence. It is
not with the rapacious animals which live separately that man must be
compared, but with those that live socially. The sociability of animals
is a power that we have not yet spoken of; a power that calls forth new
qualities among animals.
It is an error to regard the struggle for existence as the only power
giving shape to the organic world. The struggle for existence is the
main power that causes the origin of new species, but Darwin himself
knew full well that other powers co-operate which give shape to the
forms, habits, and peculiarities of animate things. In his “Descent of
Man” Darwin elaborately treated sexual selection and showed that the
competition of males for females gave rise to the gay colors of the
birds and butterflies and also to the singing voices of birds. There
he also devoted a chapter to social living. Many illustrations on this
head are also to be found in Kropotkin’s book, “Mutual Aid as a Factor
in Evolution.” The best representation of the effects of sociability
are given in Kautsky’s “Ethics and the Materialistic Conception of
History.”
When a number of animals live in a group, herd or flock, they carry on
the struggle for existence in common against the outside world; within
such a group the struggle for existence ceases. The animals which live
socially no longer wage a struggle against each other, wherein the
weak succumb; just the reverse, the weak enjoy the same advantages as
the strong. When some animals have the advantage by means of greater
strength, sharper smell, or experience in finding the best pasture
or in warding off the enemy, this advantage does not accrue only to
these better fitted, but also to the entire group. This combining of
the animals’ separate powers into one unit gives to the group a new
and much stronger power than any one individual possessed, even the
strongest. It is owing to this united strength that the defenseless
plant-eaters can ward off rapacious animals. It is only by means of
this unity that some animals are able to protect their young.
A second advantage of sociability arises from the fact that where
animals live socially, there is a possibility of the division of labor.
Such animals send out scouts or place sentinels whose object it is to
look after the safety of all, while others spend their time either in
eating or in plucking, relying upon their guards to warn them of danger.
Such an animal society becomes, in some respects, a unit, a single
organism. Naturally, the relation remains much looser than the cells of
a single animal body; nevertheless, the group becomes a coherent body,
and there must be some power that holds together the individual members.
This power is found in the social motives, the instinct that holds
them together and causes the continuance of the group. Every animal
must place the interest of the entire group above his own; it must
always act instinctively for the advantage and maintenance of the group
without consideration of itself. As long as the weak plant-eaters think
of themselves only and run away when attacked by a rapacious animal,
each one minding his life only, the entire herd disappears. Only when
the strong motive of self-preservation is suppressed by a stronger
motive of union, and each animal risks its life for the protection
of all, only then does the herd remain and enjoy the advantages of
sticking together. In such a case, self-sacrifice, bravery, devotion,
discipline and consciousness must arise, for where these do not exist
society dissolves; society can only exist where these exist.
These instincts, while they have their origin in habit and necessity,
are strengthened by the struggle for existence. Every animal herd
still stands in a competitive struggle against the same animals of a
different herd; those that are best fitted to withstand the enemy will
survive, while those that are poorer equipped will perish. That group
in which the social instinct is better developed will be able to hold
its ground, while the group in which social instinct is low will either
fall an easy prey to its enemies or will not be in a position to find
favorable feeding places. These social instincts become therefore the
most important and decisive factors that determine who shall survive
in the struggle for existence. It is owing to this that the social
instincts have been elevated to the position of predominant factors.
These relations throw an entirely new light upon the views of the
bourgeois Darwinists. Their claim is that the extermination of the
weak is natural and that it is necessary in order to prevent the
corruption of the race, and that the protection given to the weak
serves to deteriorate the race. But what do we see? In nature itself,
in the animal world, we find that the weak are protected; that it is
not by their own personal strength that they maintain themselves,
and that they are not brushed aside on account of their personal
weakness. This arrangement does not weaken the group, but gives to it
new strength. The animal group in which mutual aid is best developed
is best fit to maintain itself in the strife. That which, according
to the narrow conception appeared as a cause of weakness, becomes
just the reverse, a cause of strength. The sociable animals are in a
position to beat those that carry on the struggle individually. This
so-called degenerating and deteriorating race carries off the victory
and practically proves itself to be the most skilful and best.
Here we first see fully how near sighted, narrow and unscientific are
the claims and arguments of the bourgeois Darwinists. Their natural
laws and their conceptions of what is natural are derived from a part
of the animal world, from those which man resembles least, while those
animals that practically live under the same circumstances as man are
left unobserved. The reason for this can be found in the bourgeoise’s
own circumstances; they themselves belong to a class where each
competes individually against the other; therefore, they see among
animals only that form of the struggle for existence. It is for this
reason that they overlook those forms of the struggle that are of
greatest importance to men.
It is true that these bourgeois Darwinists are aware of the fact that
man is not ruled by mere egoism without regard for his neighbors. The
bourgeois scientists say very often that every man is possessed of two
feelings, the egotistical, or self-love, and the altruistic, the love
of others. But as they do not know the social origin of this altruism,
they cannot understand its limitations and conditions. Altruism in
their mouths becomes a very indistinct idea which they don’t know how
to handle.
Everything that applies to the social animals applies also to man. Our
ape-like ancestors and the primitive men developing from them were all
defenseless, weak animals who, as almost all apes do, lived in tribes.
Here the same social motives and instincts had to arise which later
developed to moral feelings. That our customs and morals are nothing
other than social feelings, feelings that we find among animals, is
known to all; even Darwin spoke about “the habits of animals which
would be called moral among men.” The difference is only in the measure
of consciousness; as soon as these social feelings become clear to men,
they assume the character of moral feelings. Here we see that the moral
conception――which bourgeois authors considered as the main distinction
between men and animals――is not common to men, but is a direct product
of conditions existing in the animal world.
It is in the nature of the origin of these moral feelings that they do
not spread further than the social group to which the animal or the man
belongs. These feelings serve the practical object of keeping the group
together; beyond this they are useless. In the animal world, the range
and nature of the social group is determined by the circumstances of
life, and therefore the group almost always =remains the same=. Among
men, however, the groups, these social units, are ever changing in
accordance with economic development, and this also changes the social
instincts.
The original groups, the stems of the wild and barbarian people, were
more strongly united than the animal groups. Family relationship and
a common language strengthened this union further. Every individual
had the support of the entire tribe. Under such conditions, the social
motives, the moral feelings, the subordination of the individual to the
whole, must have developed to the utmost. With the further development
of society, the tribes are dissolved and their places are taken by new
unions, by towns and peoples. New formations step into the place of
the old ones, and the members of these groups carry on the struggle for
existence in common against other peoples. In equal ratio with economic
development, the size of these unions increases, the struggle of each
against the other decreases, and social feelings spread. At the end of
ancient times we find that all the people known then formed a unit, the
Roman Empire, and at that time arose the theory――the moral feelings
having their influence on almost all the people――which led to the maxim
that all men are brothers.
When we regard our own times, we see that economically all the people
form one unit, although a very weak one; nevertheless the abstract
feeling of brotherhood becomes ever more popular. The social feelings
are strongest among members of the same class, for classes are the
essential units embodying particular interests and including certain
members. Thus we see that the social units and social feelings change
in human society. These changes are brought about by economic changes,
and the higher the stage of economic development, the higher and nobler
the social feelings.
VIII. TOOLS, THOUGHT AND LANGUAGE.
Sociability, with its consequences, the moral feelings, is a peculiarity
which distinguishes man from some, but not from all, animals. There are,
however, some peculiarities which belong to man only, and which separate
him from the entire animal world. These, in the first instance, are
language, then reason. Man is also the only animal that makes use of
self-made tools. For all these things, animals have but the slightest
propensity, but among men, these have developed essentially new
characteristics. Many animals have some kind of voice, and by means of
sounds they can come to some understanding, but only man has such sounds
as serve as a medium for naming things and actions. Animals also have
brains with which they think, but the human mind shows, as we shall see
later, an entirely new departure, which we designate as reasonable or
abstract thinking. Animals, too, make use of inanimate things which they
use for certain purposes; for instance, the building of nests. Monkeys
sometimes use sticks or stones, but only man uses tools which he himself
deliberately makes for particular purposes. These primitive tendencies
among animals show us that the peculiarities possessed by man came to
him, not by means of some wonderful creation, but by continuous
development.
Animals living isolated can not arrive at such a stage of development.
It is only as a social being that man can reach this stage. Outside the
pale of society, language is just as useless as an eye in darkness, and
is bound to die. Language is possible only in society, and only there
is it needed as a means by which members may understand one another.
All social animals possess some means of understanding each other,
otherwise they would not be able to execute certain plans conjointly.
The sounds that were necessary as a means of communication for the
primitive man while at his tasks must have developed into names of
activities, and later into names of things.
The use of tools also presupposes a society, for it is only through
society that attainments can be preserved. In a state of isolated
life every one has to make discoveries for himself; with the death
of the discoverer the discovery also becomes extinct, and each has to
start anew from the very beginning. It is only through society that
the experience and knowledge of former generations can be preserved,
perpetuated, and developed. In a group or body a few may die, but the
group, as such, does not. It remains. Knowledge in the use of tools is
not born with man, but is acquired later. Mental tradition, such as is
possible only in society, is therefore necessary.
While these special characteristics of man are inseparable from his
social life, they also stand in strong relation to each other. These
characteristics have not been developed singly, but all have progressed
in common. That thought and language can exist and develop only in
common is known to everyone who has but tried to think of the nature
of his own thoughts. When we think or consider, we, in fact, talk
to ourselves; we observe then that it is impossible for us to think
clearly without using words. Where we do not think with words our
thoughts remain indistinct and we can not combine the various thoughts.
Every one can realize this from his own experience. This is because
so-called abstract reason is perceptive thought and can take place only
by means of perceptions. Perceptions we can designate and hold only by
means of names. Every attempt to broaden our minds, every attempt to
advance our knowledge must begin by distinguishing and classifying by
means of names or by giving to the old ones a more precise meaning.
Language is the body of the mind, the material by which all human
science can be built up.
The difference between the human mind and the animal mind was very
aptly shown by Schopenhauer. This citation is quoted by Kautsky in
his “Ethics and the Materialist Conception of History” (pages 139–40
English Translation). The animal’s actions are dependent upon visual
motives, it is only by these that it sees, hears or observes in any
other way. We can always tell what induced the animal to do this or the
other act, for we, too, can see it if we look. With man, however, it is
entirely different. We can not foretell what he will do, for we do not
know the motives that induce him to act; they are thoughts in his head.
Man considers, and in so doing, all his knowledge, the result of former
experience, comes into play, and it is then that he decides how to act.
The acts of an animal depend upon immediate impression, while those of
man depend upon abstract conceptions, upon his thinking and perceiving.
Man is at the same time influenced by finer invisible motives. Thus
all his movements bear the impress of being guided by principles and
intentions which give them the appearance of independence and obviously
distinguishes them from those of animals.
Owing to their having bodily wants, men and animals are forced to seek
to satisfy them in the natural objects surrounding them. The impression
on the mind is the immediate impulse and beginning; the satisfaction
of the wants is the aim and end of the act. With the animal, action
follows immediately after impression. It sees its prey or food and
immediately it jumps, grasps, eats, or does that which is necessary
for grasping, and this is inherited as an instinct. The animal hears
some hostile sound, and immediately it runs away if its legs are so
developed to run quickly, or lies down like dead so as not to be seen
if its color serves as a protector. Between man’s impressions and
acts, however, there comes into his head a long chain of thoughts
and considerations. His actions will depend upon the result of these
considerations.
Whence comes this difference? It is not hard to see that it is closely
associated with the use of tools. In the same manner that thought
arises between man’s impressions and acts, the tool comes in between
man and that which he seeks to attain. Furthermore, since the tool
stands between man and outside objects, thought must arise between the
impression and the performance. Man does not start empty-handed against
his enemy or tear down fruit, but he goes about it in a roundabout
manner, he takes a tool, a weapon (weapons are also tools) which he
uses against the hostile animal; therefore his mind must also make the
same circuit, not follow the first impressions, but it must think of
the tools and then follow to the object. This material circuit causes
the mental circuit; the thoughts leading to a certain act are the
result of the tools necessary for the performance of the act.
Here we took a very simple case of primitive tools and the first stages
of mental development. The more complicated technique becomes, the
greater is the material circuit, and as a result the mind has to make
greater circuits. When each made his own tools, the thought of hunger
and struggle must have directed the human mind to the making of tools.
Here we have a longer chain of thoughts between the impressions and
the ultimate satisfaction of men’s needs. When we come down to our own
times, we find that this chain is very long and complicated. The worker
who is discharged foresees the hunger that is bound to come; he buys a
newspaper in order to see whether there is any demand for laborers; he
goes to the railroad, offers himself for a wage which he will get only
long afterwards, so that he may be in a position to buy food and thus
protect himself from starvation. What a long circuitous chain the mind
must make before it reaches its destiny. But it agrees with our highly
developed technique, by means of which man can satisfy his wants.
Man, however, does not rule over one tool only, but over many, which
he applies for different purposes, and from which he can choose. Man,
because of these tools, is not like the animal. The animal never
advances beyond the tools and weapons with which it was born, while man
makes his tools and changes them at will. Man, being an animal using
different tools, must possess the mental ability to choose them. In his
head various thoughts come and go, his mind considers all the tools
and the consequences of their application, and his actions depend upon
these considerations. He also combines one thought with another, and
holds fast to the idea that fits in with his purpose.
Animals have not this capacity; it would be useless for them for they
would not know what to do with it. On account of their bodily form,
their actions are circumscribed within narrow bounds. The lion can only
jump upon his prey, but can not think of catching it by running after
it. The hare is so formed that it can run; it has no other means of
defense although it may like to have. These animals have nothing to
consider except the moment of jumping or running. Every animal is so
formed as to fit into some definite place. Their actions must become
strong habits. These habits are not unchangeable. Animals are not
machines, when brought into different circumstances they may acquire
different habits. It is not in the quality of their brains, but in the
formation of their bodies that animal restrictions lie. The animal’s
action is limited by its bodily form and surroundings, and consequently
it has little need for reflection. To reason would therefore be useless
for it and would only lead to harm rather than to good.
Man, on the other hand, must possess this ability because he exercises
discretion in the use of tools and weapons, which he chooses according
to particular requirements. If he wants to kill the fleet hare, he
takes the bow and arrow; if he meets the bear, he uses the axe, and
if he wants to break open a certain fruit he takes a hammer. When
threatened by danger, man must consider whether he shall run away or
defend himself by fighting with weapons. This ability to think and to
consider is indispensable to man in his use of artificial tools.