whole”: “my place” gives you the individual, “the whole” gives you
society, but by connecting them, by saying “my place in the whole,” we
get a fruitful synthesis. I have tried hard to get away from any
mechanical system and yet it is difficult to find words which do not
seem to bind. I am now afraid of this expression—my place in the whole.
It has a rigid, unyielding sound, as if I were a cog in a machine. But
my place is not a definite portion of space and time. The people who
believe in their “place” in this sense can always photograph their
“places.” But my place is a matter of infinite relation, and of
infinitely changing relation, so that it can never be captured. It is
neither the anarchy of particularism nor the rigidity of the German
machine. To know my place is not to know my niche, not to know whether I
am cog no. 3 or cog no. 4; it is to be alive at every instant at every
finger tip to every contact and to be conscious of those contacts.
We see now that the individual both seeks the whole and is the whole.
First, the individual, biology tells us, is never complete, completeness
spells death; social psychology is beginning to show us that man
advances towards completeness not by further aggregations to himself,
but by further and further relatings of self to other men. We are always
reaching forth for union; most, perhaps all, our desires have this
motive. The spirit craves totality, this is the motor of social
progress; the process of getting it is not by adding more and more to
ourselves, but by offering more and more of ourselves. Not appropriation
but contribution is the law of growth. What our special contribution is,
it is for us to discover. More and more to release the potentialities of
the individual means the more and more progressive organization of
society if at the same time we are learning how to coördinate all the
variations. The individual in wishing for more wholeness does not ask
for a chaotic mass, but for the orderly wholeness which we call unity.
The test of our vitality is our power of synthesis, of life synthesis.
But although we say that the individual is never complete, it is also
true that the individual is a being who, because his function is
relating and his relatings are infinite, is in himself the whole of
society. It is not that the whole is divided up into pieces; the
individual is the whole at one point. This is the incarnation: it is the
whole flowing into me, transfusing, suffusing me. The fulness, bigness
of my life is not measured by the amount I do, nor the number of people
I meet, but how far the whole is expressed through me. This is the
reason why unifying gives me a sense of life and more unifying gives me
a sense of more life—there is more of the whole and of me. My worth to
society is not how valuable a part I am. I am not unique in the world
because I am different from any one else, but because I am a whole seen
from a special point of view.[22]
That the relation of each to the whole is dynamic and not static is
perhaps the most profound truth which recent years have brought us.[23]
We now see that when I give my share I give always far more than my
share, such are the infinite complexities, the fulness and fruitfulness
of the interrelatings. I contribute to society my mite, and then society
contains not just that much more nourishment, but as much more as the
loaves and fishes which fed the multitude outnumbered the original seven
and two. My contribution meets some particular need not because it can
be measured off against that need, but because my contribution by means
of all the cross currents of life always has so much more than itself to
offer. When I withhold my contribution, therefore, I am withholding far
more than my personal share. When I fail some one or some cause, I have
not failed just that person, just that cause, but the whole world is
thereby crippled. This thought gives an added solemnity to the sense of
personal responsibility.
To sum up: individuality is a matter primarily neither of apartness nor
of difference, but of each finding his own activity in the whole. In the
many times a day that we think of ourselves it is not one time in a
thousand that we think of our eccentricities, we are thinking indirectly
of those qualities which join us to others: we think of the work we are
doing with others and what is expected of us, the people we are going to
play with when work is over and the part we are going to take in that
play, the committee meeting we are going to attend and what we are going
to do there. Every distinct act of the ego is an affirmation of that
amount of separateness which makes for perfect union. Every affirmation
of the ego establishes my relation with all the rest of the universe. It
is one and the same act which establishes my individuality and gives me
my place in society. Thus an individual is one who is being created by
society, whose daily breath is drawn _from_ society, whose life is spent
_for_ society. When we recognize society as self-unfolding,
self-unifying activity, we shall hold ourselves open to its influence,
letting the Light stream into us, not from an outside source, but from
the whole of which we are a living part. It is eternally due us that
that whole should feed and nourish and sustain us at every moment, but
it cannot do this unless at every moment we are creating it. This
perfect interplay is Life. To speak of the “limitations of the
individual” is blasphemy and suicide. The spirit of the whole is
incarnate in every part. “For I am persuaded that neither death, nor
life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present,
nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall
be able to separate”—the individual from society.
-----
Footnote 21:
See ch. XV, “From Contract to Community.”
Footnote 22:
This is the principle of the vote in a democracy (see ch. XXI). This
must not, however, be confused with the old Hegelianism (see ch. XXIX
on “Sovereignty”).
Footnote 23:
In art this is what impressionism has meant. In the era before
impressionism art was in a static phase, that is, artists were working
at fixed relations. The “balance” of modern artists does not suggest
fixedness, but relation subject directly to the laws of the whole.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
VIII
WHO IS THE FREE MAN?
--------------
THE idea of liberty long current was that the solitary man was the free
man, that the man outside society possessed freedom but that in society
he had to sacrifice as much of his liberty as interfered with the
liberty of others. Rousseau’s effort was to find a form of society in
which all should be as free as “before.” According to some of our
contemporary thinkers liberty is what belongs to the individual or
variation-giving-one. But this tells only half the tale. Freedom is the
harmonious, unimpeded working of the law of one’s own nature. The true
nature of every man is found only in the whole. A man is ideally free
only so far as he is interpermeated by every other human being; he gains
his freedom through a perfect and complete relationship because thereby
he achieves his whole nature.
Hence free-will is not caprice or whim or a partial wish or a momentary
desire. On the contrary freedom means exactly the liberation from the
tyranny of such particularist impulses. When the whole-will has supreme
dominion in the heart of man, then there is freedom. The mandate of our
real Self is our liberty. The essence of freedom is not irrelevant
spontaneity but the fulness of relation. We do not curtail our liberty
by joining with others; we find it and increase all our capacity for
life through the interweaving of willings. It is only in a complex state
of society that any large degree of freedom is possible, because nothing
else can supply the many opportunities necessary to work out freedom.
The social process is a completely Self-sufficing process. Free-will is
one of its implications. I am free for two reasons: (1) I am not
dominated by the whole because I _am_ the whole; (2) I am not dominated
by “others” because we have the genuine social process only when I do
not control others or they me, but all intermingle to produce the
collective thought and the collective will. I am free when I am
functioning here in time and space as the creative will.
There is no extra-Will: that is the vital lesson for us to learn. There
is no Will except as we act. Let us _be_ the Will. Thereby do we become
the Free-Will.
Perhaps the most superficial of all views is that free-will consists in
choice when an alternative is presented. But freedom by our definition
is obedience to the law of one’s nature. My nature is of the whole: I am
free, therefore, only when I choose that term in the alternative which
the whole commands. I am not free when I am making choices, I am not
free when my acts are not “determined,” for in a sense they always are
determined (freedom and determinism have not this kind of opposition). I
am free when I am creating. I am determined _through_ my will, not in
spite of it.
Freedom then is the identifying of the individual will with the whole
will—the supreme activity of life. Free the spirit of man and then we
can trust the spirit of man, and is not the very essence of this freeing
of the spirit of man the process of taking him from the self-I to the
group-I? That we are free only through the social order, only as fast as
we identify ourselves with the whole, implies practically that to gain
our freedom we must take part in all the life around us: join groups,
enter into many social relations, and begin to win freedom for
ourselves. When we are the group in feeling, thought and will, we are
free: it does what it wishes through us—that is our liberty. In a
democracy the training of every child from the cradle—in nursery,
school, at play—must be a training in group consciousness.
Then we shall have the spontaneous activity of freedom. Let us not be
martyrs. Let us not give up bread and coal that the ends of the Great
War may be won, with the feeling of a restricted life, but with the
feeling that we have gained thereby a fuller life. Let us joyously do
the work of the world because we are the world. Such is the _élan de
vie_, the joy of high activity, which leaps forward with force, in
freedom.
We have to begin to-day to live the life which will give us our freedom.
Savants and plain men have affirmed the freedom of the will, but at the
same time most of us, even while loudly claiming our freedom, have felt
bound. While determinism has many theoretical adherents, it has many
more practical ones; we have considered ourselves bound in thousands of
ways—by tradition, by religion, by natural law, by inertia and
ignorance, etc., etc. We have said God is free but man is not free. That
we are not free has been the most deadening fallacy to which man has
ever submitted. No outside power indeed can make us free. No document of
our forefathers can “declare” us “independent.” No one can ever give us
freedom, but we can win it for ourselves.
It is often thought that when some restraint is taken away from us we
are freer than before, but this is childish. Some women-suffragists talk
of women as “enslaved” and advocate their emancipation by the method of
giving them the vote. But the vote will not make women free. Freedom is
always a thing to be attained. And we must remember too that freedom is
not a static condition. As it is not something possessed “originally,”
and as it is not something which can be given to us, so also it is not
something won once for all. It is in our power to win our freedom, but
it must be won anew at every moment, literally every moment. People
think of themselves as not free because they think of themselves as
obeying some external law, but the truth is _we_ are the law-makers. My
freedom is my share in creating, my part in the creative responsibility.
The heart of our freedom is the impelling power of the will of the
whole.
Who then are free? Those who _win_ their freedom through fellowship.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
IX
THE NEW INDIVIDUALISM
--------------
THE new freedom is to be founded on the new individualism. Many people
in their zeal for a “socialized” life are denouncing “individualism.”
But individualism is the latest social movement. We must guard against
the danger of thinking that the individual is less important because the
collective aspect of life has aroused our ardor and won our devotion.
Collectivism is no short cut to do away with the necessity of individual
achievement; it means the greatest burden possible on every man. The
development of a truly social life takes place at the same time that the
freedom and power and efficiency of its members develop. The individual
on the other hand can never make his individuality effective until he is
given collective scope for his activity. We sometimes hear it said that
the strong man does not like combination, but in fact the stronger the
man the more he sees coöperation with others as the fitting field for
his strength.
But we must learn the method of a real coöperation. We cannot have any
genuine collectivism until we have learned how to evolve the collective
thought and the collective will. This can be done only by every one
taking part. The fact that the state owns the means of production may be
a good or a poor measure, but it is not necessarily collectivism or a
true socialism. The wish for socialism is a longing for the ideal state,
but it is embraced often by impatient people who want to take a short
cut to the ideal state. That state must be grown—its branches will widen
as its roots spread. The socialization of property must not precede the
socialization of the will. If it does, then the only difference between
socialism and our present order will be substituting one machine for
another. We see more and more collectivism coming: so far as it keeps
pace with the socialization of the will, it is good; so far as it does
not, it is purely mechanical. Some people’s idea of socialism is
inventing a machine to grind out your duties for you. But every man must
do his work for himself. Not socialization of property, but
socialization of the will is the true socialism.
The main aim in the reconstruction of society must be to get all that
every man has to give, to bring the submerged millions into light and
activity. Those of us who are basing all our faith on the constructive
vision of a collective society are giving the fullest value to the
individual that has ever been given, are preaching individual value as
the basis of democracy, individual affirmation as its process, and
individual responsibility as its motor force. True individualism has
been the one thing lacking either in motive or actuality in a so-called
individualistic age, but then it has not been an individualistic but a
particularistic age. True individualism is this moment piercing through
the soil of our new understanding of the collective life.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
X
SOCIETY
--------------
WE have seen that the interpenetrating of psychic forces creates at the
same time individuals and society, that, therefore, the individual is
not a unit but a centre of forces (both centripetal and centrifugal),
and consequently society is not a collection of units but a complex of
radiating and converging, crossing and recrossing energies. In other
words we are learning to think of society as a psychic process.
This conception must replace the old and wholly erroneous idea of
society as a collection of units, and the later and only less misleading
theory of society as an organism.[24]
The old individualism with all the political fallacies it
produced—social contract of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries,
majority rule of the nineteenth, etc.—was based on the idea of developed
individuals first existing and then coming together to form society. But
the basis of society is not numbers: it is psychic power.
The organic theory of society has so much to recommend it to superficial
thinking that we must examine it carefully to find its fatal defects.
But let us first recognize its merits.
Most obviously, an organic whole has a spatial and temporal
individuality of its own, and it is composed of parts each with its
individuality yet which could not exist apart from the whole. An
organism means unity, each one his own place, every one dependent upon
every one else.
Next, this unity, this interrelating of parts, is the essential
characteristic. It is always in unstable equilibrium, always shifting,
varying, and thereby changing the individual at every moment. But it is
always produced and maintained by the individual himself. No external
force brings it forth. The central life, the total life, of this
self-developing, self-perpetuating being is involved in the process.
Hence biologists do not expect to understand the body by a study of the
separate cells as isolated units: it is the organic connection which
unites the separate processes which they recognize as the fundamental
fact.
This interrelating holds good of society when we view it externally.
Society too can be understood only by the study of its flux of
relations, of all the intricate reciprocities which go to make the
unifying. Reciprocal ordering—subordinating, superordinating,
coördinating—purposeful self-unifyings, best describe the social
process. Led by James, who has shown us the individual as a
self-unifying centre, we now find the same kind of activity going on in
society, in the social mind. And this interrelating, this unity as
unity, is what gives to society its authority and power.
Thus the term organism is valuable as a metaphor, but it has not strict
psychological accuracy.
There is this world-wide difference between the self-interrelatings of
society and of the bodily organism: the social bond is a psychic
relation and we cannot express it in biological terms or in any terms of
physical force. If we could, if “functional combination” could mean a
psychological relation as well as a physiological, then the terms
“functional” and “organic” might be accepted. But they denote a
different universe from that of thought. For psychical self-unitings
knit infinitely more closely and in a wholly different way. They are
freed from the limitations of time and space. Minds can blend, yet in
the blending preserve each its own identity. They transfuse one another
while being each its own essential and unique self.
It follows that while the cell of the organism has only one function,
the individual may have manifold and multiform functions: he enters with
one function into a certain group of people this morning and with
another function into another group this afternoon, because his free
soul can freely knit itself with a new group at any moment.[25]
This self-detaching, self-attaching freedom of the individual saves us
from the danger to democracy which lurks in the organic theory. No man
is forced to serve as the running foot or the lifting hand. Each at any
moment can place himself where his nature calls. Certain continental
sociologists are wholly unjustified in building their hierarchy where
one man or group of men is the sensorium, others the hewers and
carriers, etc. It is exactly this despotic and hopeless system of caste
from which the true democracy frees man. He follows the call of his
spirit and relates himself where he belongs to-day, and through this
relating gains the increment of power which knits him anew where he now
belongs and so continually as the wind of spirit blows.
Moreover in society every individual may be a complete expression of the
whole in a way impossible for the parts of a physical organism.[26] When
each part is itself potentially the whole, when the whole can live
completely in every member, then we have a true society, and we must
view it as a rushing of life—onrush, outrush, inrush—as a mobile,
elastic, incalculable, Protean energy seeking fitting form for itself.
This ideal society is the divine goal towards which life is an infinite
progress. Such conception of society must be visibly before us to the
exclusion of all other theories when we ask ourselves later what the
vote means in the true democracy.[27]
-----
Footnote 24:
I speak of it as later because the biological analogy was different
from the organism of mediæval doctrine.
Footnote 25:
See ch. XXX, “Political Pluralism and Functionalism.”
Footnote 26:
See p. 66.
Footnote 27:
See ch. XXI. I have been told that the distinction between the organic
and the psychic theory of society is merely academic. But no one
should frame amendments on the initiative and referendum without this
distinction; no one without it can judge wisely the various schemes
now being proposed for occupational representation—something every one
of us will have soon to do.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XI
THE SELF-AND-OTHERS ILLUSION
--------------
IT is now evident that self and others are merely different points of
view of one and the same experience, two aspects of one thought. Neither
of these partial aspects can hold us, we seek always that which includes
self and others. To recognize the community principle in everything we
do should be our aim, never to work with individuals as individuals. If
I go to have a talk with a mother about her daughter, I cannot appeal to
the mother, the daughter, or my own wishes, only to that higher creation
which we three make when we come together. In that way only will
spiritual power be generated. Every decision of the future is to be
based not on my needs or yours, nor on a compromise between them or an
addition of them, but on the recognition of the community between us.
The community may be my household and I, my employees and I, but it is
only the dictate of the whole which can be binding on the whole. This
principle we can take as a searchlight to turn on all our life.
It is the lack of understanding of this principle which works much havoc
among us. When we watch men in the lobbies at Washington working for
their state and their town as against the interests of the United
States, do we sometimes think, “These men have learnt loyalty and
service to a small unit, but not yet to a large one?” If this thought
does come to us, we are probably doing those men more than justice. The
man who tries to get something in the River and Harbor appropriation for
his town, whether or not it needs it as much as other places, is pretty
sure back in his own town to be working not for that but for his own
pocket. It is not because America is too big for him to think of, that
he might perhaps think of Ohio or Millfield, it is just because he
cannot think of Ohio or Millfield. There he thinks of how this or the
other local development, rise in land values etc., is going to benefit
himself; when he is in Washington he thinks of what is going to benefit
Millfield. But the man who works hardest and most truly for Millfield
and Ohio will probably when he comes to Washington work most truly for
the interests, not of Millfield and Ohio, but of the United States,
because he has learned the first lesson of life—to think in wholes.
The expressions social and socially-minded, which should refer to a
consciousness of the whole, are often confused with altruism. We read of
“the socialized character of modern industry.” There is a good deal of
altruism in modern industry, but little that is socialized yet. The men
who provide rest rooms, baths, lectures, and recreation facilities for
their employees, do not by so doing prove themselves to be
socially-minded; they are altruistically-minded, and this is involved in
the old individualism.[28] Moreover, in our attempts at social
legislation we have been appealing chiefly to the altruism of people:
women and children ought not to be overworked, it is cruel not to have
machinery safeguarded, etc. But our growing sense of unity is fast
bringing us to a realization that all these things are for the good of
ourselves too, for the entire community. And the war is rapidly opening
our eyes to this human solidarity: we now see health, for instance, as a
national asset.
All of us are being slowly, very slowly, purged of our particularistic
desires. The egotistic satisfaction of giving things away is going to be
replaced by the joy of owning things together. As our lives become more
and more intricately interwoven, more and more I come to suffer not
merely when I am undergoing personal suffering, more and more I come to
desire not only when I am feeling personal desires. This used to be
considered a fantastic idea not to be grasped by the plain man, but
every day the plain man is coming more and more to feel this, every day
the “claims” of others are becoming My desires. “Justice” is being
replaced by understanding. There are many people to-day who feel as
keenly the fact of child labor as if these children were their own. I
vote for prohibition, even although it does not in the least touch me,
because it does touch very closely the Me of which I am now coming into
realization.
The identification of self and others we see in the fact that we cannot
keep ourselves “good” in an evil world any more than we can keep
ourselves well in a world of disease. The method of moral hygiene as of
physical hygiene is social coöperation. We do not walk into the Kingdom
of Heaven one by one.
The exposition of the self-and-others fallacy has transformed the idea
of self-interest. Our interests are inextricably interwoven. The
question is not what is best for me or for you, but for all of us. My
interests are not less important to the world than yours; your interests
are not less important to the world than mine. If the “altruistic” man
is not a humbug, that is, if he really thinks his affairs of less
importance to the world than those of others, then there is certainly
something the matter with his life. He must raise his life to a point
where it is of as much value to the world as any one’s else.
The self-and-others fallacy has led directly to a conception which has
wrought much harm among us, namely, the identification of “others” with
“society” which leads the self outside society and brings us to one of
the most harmful of dualisms. The reason we are slow to understand the
matter of the subordination of the individual to society is because we
usually think of it as meaning the subordination of the individual to
“others,” whereas it does not at all, it means the subordination of the
individual to the whole of which he himself is a part. Such
subordination is an act of assertion; it is fraught with active power
and force; it affirms and accomplishes. We are often told to “surrender
our individuality.” To _claim_ our individuality is the one essential
claim we have on the universe.
We give up self when we are too sluggish for the heroic life. For our
self is after all the greatest bother we ever know, and the idea of
giving it up is a comfortable thought for sluggish people, a narcotic
for the difficulties of life. But it is a cowardly way out. The strong
attitude is to face that torment, our self, to take it with all its
implications, all its obligations, all its responsibilities, and be
ourselves to the fullest degree possible.
I do not mean to imply, however, that unselfishness has become obsolete.
With our new social ideal there is going to be a far greater demand on
our capacity for sacrifice than ever before, but self-sacrifice now
means for us self-fulfilment. We have now a vision of society where
service is indeed our daily portion, but our conception of service has
entirely changed. The other day it was stated that the old idea of
democracy was a society in which every man had the right to pursue his
own ends, while the new idea was based on the assumption that every man
should serve his fellow-men. But I do not believe that man should “serve
his fellow-men”; if we started on that task what awful prigs we should
become. Moreover, as we see that the only efficient people are the
servers, much of the connotation of humility has gone out of the word
service! Moreover, if service is such a very desirable thing, then every
one must have an equal opportunity for service.
We have had a wrong idea of individualism which has made those who had
more strength, education, time, money, power, feel that they must do for
those who had less. In the individualism we see coming, all our efforts
will be bent to making it possible for every man to depend upon himself
instead of depending upon others. So _noblesse oblige_ is really
egoistic. It is what I owe to myself to do to others. _Noblesse oblige_
has had a splendid use in the world, but it is somewhat worn out now
simply because we are rapidly getting away from the selfish point of
view. I don’t do things now because my position or my standing or my
religion or _my_ anything else demands it, nor because others need it,
but because it is a whole-imperative, that is, a social imperative. We
cannot transcend self by means of others, but only through the synthesis
of self and others. Wholeness is an irresistible force compelling every
member. The consciousness of this is the wellspring of our power.
An English writer says that we get leadership from the fact that men are
capable of being moved to such service by the feeling of altruism; he
attributes public spirit to love, pity, compassion and sensitiveness to
suffering. This is no doubt largely true at the present moment, but
public spirit will sometime mean, as it does to-day in many instances,
the recognition that it is not merely that my city, my nation needs me,
but that I need it as the larger sphere of a larger self-expression.
I remember some years ago a Boston girl just entering social work, fresh
from college, with all the ardor and enthusiasm of youth and having been
taught the ideals of service to others. She was talking to me about her
future and said that she was sorry family circumstances obliged her to
work in Boston instead of New York, there was so much more to reform in
New York! She seemed really afraid that justice and morality had reached
such a point with us that she might not be afforded sufficient scope for
her zeal. It was amusing, but think of the irony of it: that girl had
been taught such a view of life that her happiness, her outlet, her
self-expression, depended actually on there being plenty of misery and
wretchedness for her to change; there would be no scope for her in a
harmonious, well-ordered world.
The self-and-others theory of society is then wrong. We have seen that
the Perfect Society is the complete interrelating of an infinite number
of selves knowing themselves as one Self. We see that we are dependent
on the whole, while seeing that we are one with it in creating it. We
are separate that we may belong, that we may greatly produce. Our
separateness, our individual initiative, are the very factors which
accomplish our true unity with men. We shall see in the chapter on
“Political Pluralism” that “irreducible pluralism” and the self-unifying
principle are not contradictory.
-----
Footnote 28:
It must be remembered, however, that these welfare arrangements are
often accompanied by truly social motives, and experiments looking
towards a more democratic organization of industries.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XII
THE CROWD FALLACY
--------------
MANY people are ready to accept the truth that association is the law of
life. But in consequence of an acceptance of this theory with only a
partial understanding of it, many people to-day are advocating the life
of the crowd. The words society, crowd, and group are often used
interchangeably for a number of people together. One writer says, “The
real things are breathed forth from multitudes ... the real forces of
to-day are group forces.” Or we read of “the gregarious or group life,”
or “man is social because he is suggestible,” or, “man is social because
he likes to be with a crowd.” But we do not find group forces in
multitudes: the crowd and the group represent entirely different modes
of association. Crowd action is the outcome of agreement based on
concurrence of emotion rather than of thought, or if on the latter, then
on a concurrence produced by becoming aware of similarities, not by a
slow and gradual creating of unity. It is a crowd emotion if we all
shout “God save the King.” Suggestibility, feeling, impulse—this is
usually the order in the crowd mind.
I know a little boy of five who came home from school one day and said
with much impressiveness, “Do you know whose birthday it is to-morrow?”
“No,” said his mother, “whose?” “Ab’m Lincoln’s,” was the reply. “Who is
he?” said the mother. With a grave face and an awed voice the child
replied, “He freed the slates!” and then added, “I don’t know whether
they were the big kind like mine or the little kind like Nancy’s.” But
his emotion was apparently as great, his sentiment as sincere, as if he
had understood what Lincoln had done for his country. This is a good
example of crowd suggestion because thought was in this case inhibited
by contagious emotion.
Suggestion is the law of the crowd, interpenetration of the group. When
we study a crowd we see how quickly B takes A’s ideas and also C and D
and E; when we study a group we see that the ideas of A often arouse in
B exactly opposite ones. Moreover, the crowd often deadens thought
because it wants immediate action, which means an unthinking unanimity
not a genuine collective thought.[29] The group on the other hand
stimulates thought. There are no “differences” in the crowd mind. Each
person is swept away and does not stop to find out his own difference.
In crowds we have unison, in groups harmony. We want the single voice
but not the single note; that is the secret of the group. The enthusiasm
and unanimity of a mass-meeting may warm an inexperienced heart, but the
experienced know that this unanimity is largely superficial and is based
on the spread of similar ideas, not the unifying of differences. A crowd
does not distinguish between fervor and wisdom; a group usually does. We
do not try to be eloquent when we appear before a board or a commission;
we try merely to be convincing. Before a group it is self-control,
restraint, discipline which we need, we don’t “let ourselves go”; before
a crowd I am sorry to say we usually do. Many of us nowadays resent
being used as part of a crowd; the moment we hear eloquence we are on
the defensive. The essential evil of crowds is that they do not allow
choice, and choice is necessary for progress. A crowd is an
undifferentiated mass; a group is an articulated whole.
It is often difficult to determine whether a number of people met
together are a crowd or a group (that is, a true society), yet it is a
distinction necessary for us to make if we would understand their
action. It is not in the least a question of numbers: it is obvious that
according to our present definition a group is not a small number of
people and a crowd a large number. If someone cries “Fire,” and you and
I run to the window, then you and I are a crowd. The difference between
a group and a crowd is not one of degree but of kind. I have seen it
stated in a sociological treatise that in any deliberative assembly
there is a tendency for the wisest thought to prevail. This assumes that
“any deliberative assembly” is more like a group than a crowd—a very
pleasant thing to assume!
Some writers seem to think that the difference between a crowd and a
not-crowd is the difference between organized and unorganized, and the
example is given of laborers unorganized as a crowd and of a trade-union
as a not-crowd. But a trade-union can be and often is a crowd.
We have distinguished between the crowd and the group; it is also
necessary to distinguish between the crowd and the mob. Often the crowd
or mass is confused with the mob. The examples given of the mass or
crowd mind are usually a lynching-party, the panic-stricken audience in
a theatre fire, the mobs of the French Revolution. But all these are
very different from a mass of people merely acting under the same
suggestion, so different that we need different names for them. We might
for the moment call one a crowd and the other a mob.
An unfortunate stigma has often attached itself to the crowd mind
because of this tendency to think of the crowd mind as always exhibiting
itself in inferior ways. Mass enthusiasm, it is true, may lead to riots,
but also it may lead to heroic deeds. People talk much of the panic of a
crowd, but every soldier knows that men are brave, too, in a mass.
Students have often studied what they called the mass mind when it was
under the stress of great nervous strain and at a high pitch of
excitement, and then have said the mass acts thus and so. It has been
thought legitimate to draw conclusions concerning the nature of the mass
mind from an hysterical mob. It has been assumed that a crowd was
necessarily, as a crowd, in a condition of hysteria. It has often been
taken for granted that a crowd _is_ a pathological condition. And color
has been given to this theory by the fact that we owe much of our
knowledge of the laws of suggestion to pathologists.
But the laws of the mass can be studied in ordinary collections of
people who are not abnormally excited, who are not subjects for
pathologists. The laws of the mass as of the mob are, it is true, the
laws of suggestion and imitation, but the mob is such an extreme case of
the mass that it is necessary to make some distinction between them.
Emotion in the crowd as in the mob is intensified by the consciousness
that others are sharing it, but the mob is this crowd emotion carried to
an extreme. As normal suggestibility is the law of the mass, so abnormal
suggestibility is the law of the mob. In abnormal suggestibility the
controlling act of the will is absent, but in normal suggestibility you
have the will in control and using its power of choice over the material
offered by suggestion. Moreover, it must be remembered that emotional
disturbance is not always the cause of the condition of suggestibility:
the will may lose its ascendancy from other causes than excitement;
suggestibility often comes from exhaustion or habit.
The fact is we know little of this subject. Billy Sunday and the
Salvation Army, political bosses and labor agitators, know how to handle
crowds, but the rest of us can deal with individuals better than with
the mass; we have taken courses in first-aid to the injured, but we have
not yet learned what to do in a street riot or a financial panic.
Besides the group and the crowd and the mob, there is also the herd. The
satisfaction of the gregarious instinct must not be confused with the
emotion of the crowd or the true sense of oneness in the group. Some
writers draw analogies from the relation of the individual to the herd
to apply to the relation of man to society; such analogies lead to false
patriotism and wars. The example of the wild ox temporarily separated
from his herd and rushing back to the “comfort of its fellowship” has
adorned many a different tale. The “comfort” of feeling ourselves in the
herd has been given as the counterpart of spiritual communion, but are
we seeking the “comfort” of fellowship or the creative agonies of
fellowship? The latter we find not in herd life, but in group life.
Then besides the group, the crowd, the mob, the herd, there are numbers
as mere numbers. When we are a lot of people with different purposes we
are simply wearied, not stimulated. At a bazaar, for instance, far from
feeling satisfaction in your fellow-creatures, you often loathe them.
Here you are not swayed by one emotion, as in a crowd, nor unified by
some intermingling of thought as in a group.
It must be understood that I do not wish to make any arbitrary dictum in
regard to distinctions between the crowd and the herd, the crowd and
mere numbers, etc. I merely wish to point out that the subject has not
yet received sufficient study. What is it we feel at the midnight mass
of the Madeleine? It is not merely the one thought which animates all;
it is largely the great mass of people who are feeling the one thought.
But many considerations and unanswered questions leap to our mind just
here. All this is an interesting field for the further study and close
analysis of psychologists.
We must not, however, think from these distinctions that man as member
of a group and man as member of a crowd, as one of a herd or of a mob or
of a mere assemblage, is subject to entirely different laws which never
mingle; there are all the various shadings and minglings of these which
we see in such varied associations as business corporation, family,
committee, political meeting, trade-union etc. Our herd traditions show
in our group life; there is something of the crowd in all groups and
there is something of the group in many crowds, as in a legislative
assembly. Only further study will teach us to distinguish how much herd
instinct and how much group conviction contribute to our ideas and
feelings at any one time and what the tendencies are when these clash.
Only further study will show us how to secure the advantages of the
crowd without suffering from its disadvantages. We have all felt that
there was much that was valuable in that emotional thrill which brings
us into a vaster realm although not a coördinated realm; we have all
rejoiced in the quickened heart-beat, the sense of brotherhood, the love
of humanity, the renewed courage which have sometimes come to us when we
were with many people. Perhaps the ideal group will combine the
advantages of the mass and the group proper: will give us collective
thought, the creative will and at the same time the inspiration for
renewed effort and sustained self-discipline.
Crowd association has, however, received more study than group
association because as a matter of fact there is at present so much more
of the former than of the latter. But we need not only a psychology
which looks at us as we are, but a psychology which points the way to
that which we may become. What our advanced thinkers are now doing is to
evolve this new psychology. Conscious evolution means giving less and
less place to herd instinct and more to the group imperative. We are
emerging from our gregarious condition and are now to enter on the
rational way of living by scanning our relations to one another, instead
of bluntly feeling them, and so adjusting them that unimpeded progress
on this higher plane is secured.
And now that association is increasing so rapidly on every hand, it is
necessary that we see to it that this shall be group association, not
crowd association. In the business world our large enterprises are
governed by boards, not by one man: one group (corporation) deals with
another group (corporation). Hospitals, libraries, colleges, are
governed by boards, trustees, faculties. We have committees of
arbitration, boards of partial management (labor agreements) composed of
representatives of employers and employed. Many forms of coöperation are
being tried: some one must analyze the psychological process of the
generation of coöperative activity. All this means a study of group
psychology. In the political world there is a growing tendency to put
the administrative part of government more and more into the hands of
commissions. Moreover, we have not legislatures swayed by oratory and
other forms of mass suggestion, but committee government. Of course
legislative committees do not try to get the group idea, they are
largely controlled by partisan and financial interests, but at any rate
they are not governed wholly by suggestion. In the philanthropic world
we no longer deal with individuals: we form a committee or association
to deal with individuals or with groups of individuals. The number of
associations of every kind for every purpose increases daily. Hence we
must study the group.
-----
Footnote 29:
A good example of the crowd fallacy is the syndicalist theory that the
vote should be taken in a meeting of strikers not by ballot but by
acclamation or show of hands. The idea is that in an open meeting
enthusiasm passes from one to another and that, therefore, you can
thus get the collective will which you could not get by every man
voting one by one.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XIII
THE SECRET OF PROGRESS
--------------
I HAVE said that the essence of the social process is the creating of
ever new values through the interplay of all the forces of life. But I
have also tried to show that these forces must be organized; from
confusion nothing is born. The spiritual order grows up within us as
fast as we make new correlations. Chaos, disorder, destruction, come
everywhere from refusing the syntheses of life.
The task of coadaptation is unending, whether it means getting on with a
difficult member of my family, playing the game at school or college,
doing my part in my business, my city, or whether it means Germany and
the Allies living together on the same planet.
Nietzsche thought that the man who showed the most force was the most
virtuous. Now we say that all this brute energy is merely the given,
that the life-process is the unifying of the given—he who shows the
unifying power in greatest degree is the superman. Progress is not
determined then by economic conditions, by physical conditions nor by
biological factors solely, but more especially by our capacity for
genuine coöperation.
This idea of progress clear-cuts some long-established notions. We see
now the truth and the fallacy in the assertions (1) that social
evolution depends upon individual progress with imitation by the crowd,
(2) that evolution means struggle and the survival of the fittest.
For some years the generally accepted theory of the social process was
that the individual invents, society spreads. We have already examined
one half of this theory; let us look at the other half—the idea that the
individual originates.
If a man comes forward with an idea, what do we mean by saying that he
is more “original” than his fellows? So far as the quality of
originality can be described, do we not mean that his capacity for
saturation is greater, his connection with the psychic reservoir more
direct, so that some group finds in him its most complete interpreter?
Or even if it is quite evident that in a particular instance a
particular individual has not derived his idea from the group of which
he is at the moment a member, but has brought it to the group, none of
us believes that that idea arose spontaneously in his mind independent
of all previous association. This individual has belonged to many other
groups, has discussed with many men, or even if he has lived his life
apart he has read newspapers and magazines, books and letters, and has
mingled his ideas with those he has found there. Thus the “individual”
idea he brings to a group is not really an “individual” idea; it is the
result of the process of interpenetration, but by bringing it to a new
group and soaking it in that the interpenetration becomes more complex.
The group idea he takes away is now his individual idea so far as any
new group is concerned, and in fact it becomes an active agent in his
progress and the progress of society only by meeting a new group. Our
life is more and more stagnant in proportion as we refuse the group
life.
According to the old theory, the individual proposes, society accepts or
rejects; the individual is forever walking up to society to be embraced
or rejected—it sounds like some game but is hardly life.
There is an interesting theory current which is the direct outcome of
the fallacy that the individual originates and society imitates, namely,
the great man theory. While it seems absurd in this age to be combating
the idea of special creation, yet it is something very like this that
one comes up against sometimes in the discussion of this theory. The
question is often asked, “Does the great man produce his environment or
is he the product of his environment?” Although for my purpose I may
seem to emphasize the other side of things, not for a moment do I wish
to belittle the inestimable value of genius. But the fact of course is
that great men make their environment and are made by their environment.
There wells up in the individual a fountain of power, but this fountain
has risen underground and is richly fed by all the streams of the common
life.[30]
I have spoken of fallacies in the individual invention theory and in the
struggle theory. But I am using the word struggle as synonymous with
strife, opposition, war; effort, striving, the ceaseless labor of
adjustment will always be ours, but these two ideas represent opposite
poles of existence. In the true theory of evolution struggle has indeed
always been adaptation. For many years the “strongest” man has been to
science the being with the greatest number of points of union, the
“fittest” has been the one with the greatest power of coöperation.
Darwin we all know believed that the cause of the advance of
civilization was in the social habits of man. Our latest biologists tell
us that “mutual aid” has from the first been a strong factor in
evolution, that the animal species in which the practice of “mutual
aid”[31] has attained the greatest development are invariably the most
numerous and the most prosperous. We no longer think of the animal world
as necessarily a world of strife; in many of its forms we find not
strife but coördinated activities.
But to too many people struggle suggests conquest and domination; it
implies necessarily victors and vanquished. Some sociologists call the
dissimilar elements of a group the struggle elements, and the similar
elements the unifying elements. But this is a false distinction which
will, as long as persisted in, continue the war between classes and
between nations. The test of our progress is neither our likenesses nor
our unlikenesses, but what we are going to do with our unlikenesses.
Shall I fight whatever is different from me or find the higher
synthesis? The progress of society is measured by its power to unite
into a living, generating whole its self-yielding differences.
Moreover, we think now of the survival of groups rather than of
individuals. For the survival of the group the stronger members must not
crush the weaker but cherish them, because the spiritual and social
strength which will come from the latter course makes a stronger group
than the mere brute strength of a number of “strong” individuals. That
is, the strength of the group does not depend on the greatest number of
strong men, but on the strength of the bond between them, that is, on
the amount of solidarity, on the best organization.
But it might be said, “You still evidently believe in struggle, only you
make the group instead of the individual the unit.” No, the progress of
man must consist in extending the group, in belonging to many groups, in
the relation of these groups. If we accept life as endless battle, then
we shall always have the strong overcoming the weak, either strong
individuals conquering the weak, or a strong group a weak group, or a
strong nation a weak nation. But synthesis is the principle of life, the
method of social progress. Men have developed not through struggle but
through learning how to live together.
Lately the struggle theory has been transferred from the physical to the
intellectual world. Many writers who see society as a continuous
conflict think its highest form is discussion. One of these says, “Not
for a moment would I deny that fighting is better carried on by the pen
than by the sword, but some sort of fighting will be necessary to the
end of the world.” No, as long as we think of discussion as a struggle,
as an opportunity for “argument,” there will be all the usual evil
consequences of the struggle theory. But all this is superficial. If
struggle is unavailing, it is unavailing all along the line. It is not
intellectual struggle that marks the line of progress, but any signs of
finding another method than struggle. Two neighbors quarrelling in words
are little more developed than two men fighting a duel. We must learn to
think of discussion not as a struggle but as experiment in coöperation.
We must learn coöperative thinking, intellectual team-work. There is a
secret here which is going to revolutionize the world.
Perhaps the most profound reason against struggle is that it always
erects a thing-in-itself. If I “fight” Mr. X, that means that I think of
Mr. X as incapable of change—that either he or I must prevail, must
conquer. When I realize fully that there are no things-in-themselves,
struggle simply fades away; then I know that Mr. X and I are two flowing
streams of activity which must meet for larger ends than either could
pursue alone.
Is Germany the last stronghold of the old theory of evolution, is she
the last being in a modern world to assert herself as a thing-in-itself?
President Wilson’s contribution to this war is that he refuses to look
upon Germany as a thing-in-itself.
The idea of adaptation to environment has been so closely connected with
the “struggle for existence” theory that some people do not seem to
realize that in giving up the latter, the former still has force,
although with a somewhat different connotation. We now feel not only
that adaptation to environment is compatible with coöperation, but that
coöperation is the basis of adaptation to environment. But our true
environment is psychic, and as science teaches adaptation to the
physical, so group psychology will teach the secret of membership in the
psychic environment, will teach the branch to know its vine, where its
own inner sources of life are revealed to it. Then we shall understand
that environment is not a hard and rigid something external to us,
always working upon us, whose influence we cannot escape. Not only have
self and environment acted and reacted upon each other, but the action
and reaction go on every moment; both self and environment are always in
the making. The individual who has been affected by his environment acts
on an environment which has been affected by individuals. We shall need
an understanding of this for all our constructive work: it is not that
formative influences work on a dead mass of inertia, but formative
influences work on an environment which has already responded to
initiatives, and these initiatives have been affected by the responses.
We cannot be practical politicians without fully understanding this.
Progress then must be through the group process. Progress implies
respect for the creative process not the created thing; the created
thing is forever and forever being left behind us. The greatest blow to
a hide-bound conservatism would be the understanding that life is
creative at every moment. What the hard-shelled conservative always
forgets is that what he really admires in the past is those very moments
when men have strongly and rudely broken with tradition, burst bonds,
and created something. True conservatism and true progressivism are not
two opposites: conservatives dislike “change,” yet they as well as
progressives want to grow; progressives dislike to “stand pat,” yet they
as well as conservatives want to preserve what is good in the present.
But conservatives often make the mistake of thinking they can go on
living on their spiritual capital; progressives are often too prone not
to fund their capital at all.
What we must get away from is “the hell of rigid things.” There is a
living life of the people. And it must flow directly through our
government and our institutions, expressing itself anew at every moment.
We are not fossils petrified in our social strata. _We are alive._ This
is the first lesson for us to learn. That very word means change and
change, growth and growth. To live gloriously is to change
undauntedly—our ideals must evolve from day to day, and it is upon those
who can fearlessly embrace the doctrine of “becoming” that the life of
the future waits. All is growing; we must recognize this and free the
way for the growth. We must unclose our spiritual sources, we must allow
no mechanism to come between our spiritual sources and our life. The
_élan vital_ must have free play.
Democracy must be conceived as a process, not a goal. We do not want
rigid institutions, however good. We need no “body of truth” of any
kind, but the will to will, which means the power to make our own
government, our own institutions, our own expanding truth. _We progress,
not from one institution to another, but from a lesser to a greater will
to will._
We know now that there are no immutable goals—there is only a way, a
process, by which we shall, like gods, create our own ends at any
moment—crystallize just enough to be of use and then flow on again. The
flow of life and we the flow: this is the truth. Life is not a matter of
desirable objects here and there; the stream flows on and he who waits
with his object is left with a corpse. Man is equal to life at every
moment, but he must live for _life_ and not for the _things_ life has
produced.
Yet while it is true that life can never be formalized or formulated,
that life is movement, change, onwardness, this does not mean that we
must give up the abiding. The unchangeable and the unchanging are both
included in the idea of growth.[32] Stability is neither rigidity nor
sterility: it is the perpetual power of bringing forth.
Writers are always fixing dates for the dividing line between the
ancient and the modern world, or between the mediæval and the modern
world. Soon the beginning of modern times, of modern thought, will, I
believe, be dated at the moment when men began to look at a plastic
world, at a life constantly changing, at institutions as only temporary
crystallizations of life forces, of right as evolving, of men as
becoming.
The real work of every man is then to build. The challenge is upon us.
This is the task to which all valiant souls must set themselves. We are
to rise from one mastery to another. We are to be no longer satisfied
with the pace of a merely fortuitous progress. We must know now that we
are coworkers with every process of creation, that our function is as
important as the power which keeps the stars in their orbits. We are
creators here and now. We are not in the anteroom of our real life. This
is real life.
We cannot, however, mould our lives each by himself; but within every
individual is the power of joining himself fundamentally and vitally to
other lives, and out of this vital union comes the creative power.
Revelation, if we want it to be continuous, must be through the
community bond. No _individual_ can change the disorder and iniquity of
this world. No chaotic _mass_ of men and women can do it. Conscious
_group_ creation is to be the social and political force of the future.
Our aim must be to live consciously in more and more group relations and
to make each group a means of creating. It is the group which will teach
us that we are not puppets of fate.
Then will men and women spend their time in trivial or evil ways when
they discover that they can make a world to their liking? We are
sometimes told that young men and women working all day under the
present very trying industrial conditions live in our great cities a
round of gaiety at night. Go and look at them. It is a depressing sight.
A tragedy is a tragedy and has its own nobility, but this farce of a
city population enjoying itself at night is a pitiful spectacle. Go to
clubs, go to dances, go to theatres or moving-pictures, and the mass of
our young people look indifferent and more or less bored—they have _not_
found the joy of life. Play, as useless idling, does not give us joy.
Work, as drudgery, does not give us joy. Only creating gives us joy.
When we see that we are absolute masters of our life, that in every
operation, however humble, we are working out the fundamental laws of
being, then we shall walk to our daily work as the soldiers march to the
Marseillaise.
We know what happened on that lonely island in a distant sea when the
young Prince came to the people of the Kingdom of Cards, who had always
lived by Rules, and taught them to live by their Ichcha, their will.
Images became men and women, rules gave place to wills, the caste of the
Court cards was lost, a mechanism changed into life. The inhabitants of
the Kingdom of Cards, who had never thought, who had never made a
decision, learned the royal power of choosing for themselves.
Regulations were abandoned, and the startling discovery was made that
_they could walk in any direction they chose_. This is what we need to
learn—that we can walk in any direction we choose. We are not a pack of
cards to be put here and there, to go always in rows, to totter and fall
when we are not propped up. We must obey our Ichcha.
Already the change has begun. I have said that we are beginning to
recognize this power—there are many indications that we are beginning to
live this power. We are no longer willing to leave human affairs to
“natural” control: we do not want war because it is “natural” to fight;
we do not want a haphazard population at the dictates of “nature.” We no
longer believe that sickness and poverty are sent by God; people are
being taught that they need not be sick, that it is largely in their own
hands, their own collective hands (social hygiene etc.). Modern charity
is not aimed at relieving individual poverty, but at freeing the
individual from the particular enslavement which has produced his
poverty, in freeing society from the causes which produce poverty at
all.[33]
Our once-honored blind forces are more and more losing their mastery
over us. We are at this moment, however, in a difficult transition
period. We are “freer” than ever before; the trouble is we do not know
what to do with this freedom. It is easy to live the moral, the
“social,” life when it consists in following a path carefully marked out
for us, but the task given us to-day is to revalue all the world values,
to steer straight on and on into the unknown—a gallant forth-faring
indeed. But conscious evolution, the endless process of a perfect
coördinating, demands vital people. War is the easy way: we take to war
because we have not enough vitality for the far more difficult job of
agreeing. So also that kind of religion which consists of contemplation
of other-worldliness is the easy way, and we take to that when we have
not enough vitality deliberately to direct our life and construct our
world. It takes more spiritual energy to express the group spirit than
the particularist spirit. This is its glory as well as its difficulty.
We have to be higher order of beings to do it—we become higher order of
beings by doing it. And so the progress goes on forever: it means life
forever in the making, and the creative responsibility of every man.
Conscious evolution is the key to that larger view of democracy which we
are embracing to-day. The key? Every man sharing in the creative process
_is_ democracy; this is our politics and our religion. People are always
inquiring into their relation to God. God is the moving force of the
world, the ever-continuing creating where men are the co-creators.
“_Chaque homme fait dieu, un peu, avec sa vie_,” as one of the most
illumined of the younger French poets says.[34] Man and God are
correlates of that mighty movement which is Humanity self-creating. God
is the perpetual Call to our self-fulfilling. We, by sharing in the
life-process which binds all together in an active, working unity are
all the time sharing in the making of the Universe. This thought calls
forth everything heroic that is in us; every power of which we are
capable must be gathered to this glorious destiny. This is the True
Democracy.[35]
-----
Footnote 30:
It is unfortunate to be obliged to treat this important point with
such brevity.
Footnote 31:
The expressions “mutual aid” and “animal coöperation” have, however, a
slightly misleading connotation; mutual adaptation, coördinated
activities, come nearer the truth. It is confusing to take the words
and phrases we use of men in the conscious stage and transfer them to
the world of animals in the unconscious stage.
Footnote 32:
It is because of this profound truth that we must always respect
conservatism.
Footnote 33:
The claim of the individual to a larger share in government and to a
share in the control of industry will be taken up in later chapters.
Footnote 34:
“Ce que Nait” is the title of a volume of poems by Arcos, and that
which is being born through all the activity of our common life is
God. It is of the “naissance” and “croissance” of God that Arcos loves
to sing.
Footnote 35:
I have said that we gain creative power through the group. Those who
feel enthralled by material conditions, and to whom it seems an irony
to be told that they are “creators,” will demand something more
specific. Concrete methods of group organization are given in Part
III.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XIV
THE GROUP PRINCIPLE AT WORK
--------------
OUR rate of progress, then, and the degree in which we actualize the
perfect democracy, depend upon our understanding that man has the power
of creating, and that he gets this power through his capacity to join
with others to form a real whole, a living group. Let us see, therefore,
what signs are visible to-day of the group principle at work.
First, our whole idea of education is rapidly changing. The chief aim of
education now is to fit the child into the life of the community; we do
not think of his “individual” development except as contributing to
that. Or it would be nearer the truth to say that we recognize that his
individual development is essentially just that. The method of
accomplishing this is chiefly through (1) the introduction of group
class-room work in the place of individual recitations, (2) the addition
of vocational subjects to the curriculum and the establishment of
vocational schools, and (3) the organizing of vocational guidance
departments and placement bureaus in connection with the public schools.
In many of the large cities of the United States the public schools have
a vocational guidance department, and it is not considered that the
schools have done their duty by the child until they have helped him to
choose his life occupation, have trained him in some degree for it, and
have actually found him a job, that is, fitted him into the community.
It is becoming gradually accepted that this is a function of the state,
and several of our states are considering the appropriation of funds for
the carrying on of such departments.[36]
The further idea of education as a continuous process, that it stops
neither at 14 nor 21 nor 60, that a man should be related to his
community not only through services rendered and benefits received but
by a steady process of preparation for his social and civic life, will
be discussed later.[37]
The chief object of medical social service is to put people into
harmonious and fruitful relation, not only because illness has
temporarily withdrawn certain people from the community, but because it
is often some lack of adaptation which has caused the illness.
Our different immigration theories show clearly the growth of the
community idea. First came the idea of amalgamation: our primary duty to
all people coming to America was to assimilate them as quickly and as
thoroughly as possible. Then people reacted against the melting-pot
theory and said, “No, we want all the Italians have to offer, all the
Syrians can give us; the richness of these different civilizations must
not be engulfed in ours.” So separate colonies were advocated, separate
organizations were encouraged. Many articles were written and speeches
made to spread this thought. But now a third idea is emerging—the
community idea. We do not want Swedes and Poles to be lost in an
undifferentiated whole, but equally we do not want all the evils of the
separatist method; we are trying to get an articulated whole. We want
all these different peoples to be part of a true community—giving all
they have to give and receiving equally. Only by a mutual permeation of
ideals shall we enrich their lives and they ours.
Again our present treatment of crime shows the community principle in
two ways: (1) the idea of community responsibility for crime is
spreading rapidly; (2) we are fast outgrowing the idea of punishing
criminals merely, our object is to fit them into society.
First, the growing idea of community responsibility for crime. We read
in an account of the new penology that “Crime in the last analysis is
not to be overcome after arrest but before,” that crime will be
abolished by a change of environment and that “environment is
transformed by child labor laws and the protection of children, by
housing laws and improved sanitation, by the prevention of tuberculosis
and other diseases, by health-giving recreational facilities, by
security of employment, by insurance against the fatalities of industry
and the financial burdens of death and disease, by suitable vocational
training, by all that adds to the content of human life and gives us
higher and keener motives to self-control, strenuous exertion and
thrift.” We of course do not exonerate the individual from
responsibility, but it must be shared by the whole society in which he
lives.
Secondly, the old idea of justice was punishment, a relic of personal
revenge; this punishment took the form of confinement, of keeping the
man outside society. The new idea is exactly the opposite: it is to join
him to society by finding out just what part he is best fitted to play
in society and training him for it. A former Commissioner of Corrections
in New York told me that a number of people, including several judges,
were looking forward to the time very soon being ripe for making the
“punishment” of a crime the doing some piece of social service in order
to fit the criminal into the social order. One man who had shown in his
crime marked organizing ability had been sent to oversee the reclaiming
of some large tracts of abandoned farm land, and this had worked so well
that a number of judges wished to try similar experiments.
Thus criminals are coming to be shown that their crime has not been
against individuals but against society, that it has divorced them from
their community and that the object of their imprisonment is that they
may learn how to unite themselves to their community. The colony system
means that they must learn to live in a community _by_ living in a
community. This is the object of Mr. William George’s “Social
Sanitarium,” where the men are to live in a graded series of farm
villages, govern themselves, support themselves and also their families
as far as possible, and pass from “village” to “village” on their way
towards the society from which their crime has separated them.
This same principle, to make the life while under punishment a
preparation for community life, underlay the work of Mr. Osborne at Sing
Sing. Through his Mutual Welfare League he tried to develop a feeling of
responsibility to the community, a feeling first of all that there was a
community within the prison. All the men knew gang loyalty; it was Mr.
Osborne’s aim to build upon this. He thought they could not feel
responsibility to a community outside when they left unless they learnt
community consciousness inside. He did not provide recreation for them
solely for the sake of recreation; he did not allow them self-government
because of any abstract idea of the justice of self-government; he tried
to bring the men of Sing Sing to a realization of a community, to a
sense of responsibility to a community. The two men who escaped from
Sing Sing in 1916 and voluntarily returned had learned this lesson.[38]
Both these principles—community responsibility for crime and the
necessity of fitting the offender into the community life—underlie the
work of the juvenile court. The probation officer’s duty is not
exhausted by knitting the child again into worthy relations; he must try
to see that community life shall touch children on all sides in a
helpful not a harmful way.
A future task for the juvenile court is to organize groups back of the
child as part of the system of probation. All our experience is showing
us the value of using the group incentive. The approval or blame of our
fellow-men is an urgent factor in our lives; a man can stand any sort of
condemnation better than that of his club. It was the idea of community
punishment which was such an interesting part of the “Little
Commonwealth” which Mr. Homer Lane established near Detroit for boys and
girls on probation. If a boy did not work he was not punished for it, he
did not even go without food, but the whole commonwealth had to pay for
it out of their earnings. The whole moral pressure of the community was
thus brought to bear upon that boy to do his share of the work—an
incentive which Mr. Lane found more powerful than any punishment.
A colonel of the American army says that fewer offenses are committed in
our army than in the Continental armies, not because human nature is
different in America but because our methods of army discipline are
different: the custom in our army is to punish a company for the offense
of an individual; the company, therefore, looks after its own members.
The procedure of our courts also shows signs of change in the direction
of the recognition of the group principle. Until recently we have had in
our courts two lawyers, each upholding his side: this means a real
struggle, there is no effort at unifying, one or the other must win; the
judge is a sort of umpire. But the Reconciliation Court of Cleveland
(and some other western cities) marks a long step in advance. This does
away with lawyers each arguing one side; the judge deals directly with
the disputants, trying to make them see that a harmonizing of their
differences is possible. In our municipal courts, to be sure, the
principal function of the judge has long been not to punish but to take
those measures which will place the individual again in his group, but
this applies only to criminal cases, whereas the Reconciliation Court of
Cleveland, following the practice of the conciliation courts of certain
continental countries,[39] deals with civil cases. The part of the judge
in our juvenile courts is too well known to need mention.
In a jury I suppose we have always had an example of the group idea in
practical life. Here there is no question of counting up similar
ideas—there must be one idea and the effort is to seek that.
In our legislatures and legislative committees we get little integrated
thought because of their party organization; even among members of the
same party on a committee there are many causes at work to prevent the
genuine interplay we should have. The governors’ commissions, on the
other hand, hear both sides, call in many experts and try to arrive at
some composite judgment.
Nowhere has our social atomism been more apparent than in our lack of
city-planning: (1) we have had many beautiful single buildings, but no
plan for the whole city; (2) and more important, we could not get any
general plan for our cities accepted because the individual property
owner (this was called individualism!) must be protected against the
community. City-planning includes not only plans for a beautiful city
but for all its daily needs—streets, traffic regulations, housing,
schools, industry, transportation, recreational facilities; we cannot
secure these things while property owners are being protected in their
“rights.” The angry protest which goes up from real estate owners when
it is proposed to regulate the height of buildings we have heard in all
our cities. The struggle for enough light and air in tenements has been
fought step by step. The “right” claimed was the right of every man to
do what he liked with his own property. Now we are beginning to
recognize the error of this, and to see that it is not a state of
individualism but of anarchy that our new building laws are trying to do
away with. No real estate owner is to be allowed to do that with his own
property which will not fit into a general plan for the beauty and
efficiency of the city. The key-note of the new city-planning is
adaptation, adaptation of means to end and of part to part. This does
not stifle individual initiative, but directs it.
And the interesting point for us here is that the real estate men
themselves are now beginning to see that particularistic building has
actually hurt real estate interests. The “Report of the Advisory Council
of the Real Estate Interests of New York City” admits that “light, air
and access, the chief factors in fixing rentable values, had been
impaired by high buildings and by the proximity of inappropriate or
nuisance buildings and uses.” It is impossible to talk ten minutes with
real estate men to-day without noticing how entirely changed their
attitude has been in the last ten or twenty years. Moralists used to
tell us that the only path of progress was to make people willing to
give up their own interests for the sake of others. But this is not what
our real estate men are doing. They are coming to see that their
interests are in the long run coincident with the interests of all the
other members of the city.
The growing recognition of the group principle in the business world is
particularly interesting to us. The present development of business
methods shows us that the old argument about coöperation and competition
is not fruitful. Coöperation and competition are being taken up into a
larger synthesis. We are just entering on an era of collective living.
“Cut-throat” competition is beginning to go out of fashion. What the
world needs to-day is a coöperative mind. The business world is never
again to be directed by individual intelligences, but by intelligences
interacting and ceaselessly influencing one another. Every mental act of
the big business man is entirely different from the mental acts of the
man of the last century managing his own competitive business. There is
of course competition between our large firms, but the coöperation
between them is coming to occupy a larger and larger place relatively.
We see this in the arrangement between most of our large printers in
Boston not to outbid one another, in those trades which join to
establish apprentice schools, in the coöperative credit system, worked
out so carefully in some of the western cities as almost to eliminate
bad debts, in the regular conferences between the business managers of
the large department stores, in our new Employment Managers’
associations in Boston and elsewhere, in the whole spirit of our
progressive Chambers of Commerce. When our large stores “compete” to
give the highest class goods and best quality service, and meet in
conference to make this “competition” effective, then competition itself
becomes a kind of coöperation! There are now between thirty and forty
associations in this country organized on the open-price plan. The
Leather Belting Exchange, an excellent example of “coöperative
competition,” was organized in 1915. Some of its avowed objects are:
standardization of grades of leather, promotion of use of leather
belting by scientific investigation of its possible uses, uniform
contract system, uniform system of cost accounting, daily charts of
sales, monthly statistical reports, collection and distribution of
information relative to cost of raw material and to methods and cost of
manufacturing and distribution.[40] How vastly different a spirit from
that which used to animate the business world!
Modern business, therefore, needs above all men who can unite, not
merely men who can unite without friction, but who can turn their union
to account. The successful business man of to-day is the man of trained
coöperative intelligence. The world as well as the psychologist places a
higher value on the man who can take part in collective thinking and
concerted action, and has higher positions to offer him in the business
and political field. The secretary of a Commission investigates a
subject, is clever in mastering details, in drawing conclusions and in
presenting them, perhaps far cleverer in these respects than any member
of the Commission. But the chairman of the Commission must have another
and higher power—the power of uniting these conclusions with the
conclusions of others, the power of using this material to evolve with
others plans for action. This means a more developed individual and
brings a higher price in the open market.
Another illustration of the group principle in the business world is
that a corporation is obliged by law to act in joint meeting, that is,
it cannot get the vote of its members by letter and then act according
to the majority.
But more important than any of the illustrations yet given is the
application of the group principle to the relations of capital and
labor. People are at last beginning to see that industrial organization
must be based on the community idea. If we do not want to be dominated
by the special interests of the capital-power, it is equally evident
that we do not want to be dominated by the special interests of the
labor-power. The interests of capital and labor must be united.[41]
Even collective bargaining is only a milestone on the way to the full
application of the group principle. It recognizes the union, it
recognizes that some adjustment between the interests of capital and
labor is possible, but it is still “bargaining,” still an adjustment
between two warring bodies, it still rests on the two pillars of
concession and compromise. We see now the false psychology underlying
compromise and concession. Their practical futility has long been
evident: whenever any difference is “settled” by concession, that
difference pops up again in some other form. Nothing will ever truly
settle differences but synthesis. No wonder the syndicalists label the
“compromises” made between “antagonistic interests” as insincere. In a
way all compromise is insincere, and real harmony can be obtained only
by an integration of “antagonistic” interests which can take place only
when we understand the method. The error of the syndicalists is in
thinking that compromise is the only method; their fundamental error is
in thinking that different interests are necessarily “antagonistic”
interests.
Compromise is accepted not only as inevitable and as entirely proper,
but as the most significant fact of human association, by those
economists who belong to that school of “group sociologists” which sees
present society as made up of warring groups, ideal society as made up
of groups in equilibrium. Not only, I believe, is conflict and
compromise not the true social process, but also it is not, even at
present, the most significant, although usually the largest, part of the
social process. The integrating of ideas which comes partly from direct
interpenetration, and partly from that indirect interpenetration which
is the consequence of the overlapping membership of groups, I see going
on very largely in the groups to which I belong, and is surely an
interesting sign-post to future methods of association.
The weakness of Arbitration and Conciliation Boards, with their
“impartial” member, is that they tend to mere compromise even when they
are not openly negotiations between two warring parties.[42] It is
probable from what we see on all sides that the more “concessions” we
make, the less “peace” we shall get. Compulsory Arbitration in New
Zealand has not succeeded as well as was hoped just because it has not
found the community between capital and labor.
The latest development of collective bargaining, the Trade
Agreement,[43] with more or less permanent boards of representatives
from employers and workers, brings us nearer true community than we have
yet found in industrial relations. The history of these Agreements in
England and America is fruitful study. One of the best known in America
is Mr. Justice Brandeis’ protocol scheme in 1910 for the garment
industries of New York, which provided for an industrial court composed
of employers and employed to which all disagreements should be brought,
and for six years this prevented strikes in the needle trades of New
York.[44]
One of the most interesting of the Trade Agreements to be found in the
Bulletins of the National Labor Department, and one which can be studied
over a long term of years, is that between the Stove Founders’ National
Defence Association (employers) and the Iron Moulders’ Union of North
America. It is not only that the permanent organ of “conference”
(employers and employees represented) has brought peace to the stove
industry after forty years of disastrous strikes and lockouts, but that
question after question has been decided not by the side which the
market rendered strongest at the moment seizing its advantage, but by a
real harmonizing of interest. A good illustration is the treatment of
the question of who should pay for the bad castings: that was not
decided at once as a matter of superior strength or of compromise, but
after many months a basis of mutual advantage was found.
For some years Trade Agreements have been coming to include more and
more points; not wages and hours alone, but many questions of shop
management, discipline etc. are now included. Moreover it has been seen
over and over again that the knowledge gained through joint conference
is the knowledge needed for joint control: the workmen ought to know the
cost of production and of transportation, the relative value of
different processes of production, the state of the market, the
conditions governing the production and marketing of the competing
product etc.; the employer must know the real conditions of labor and
the laborer’s point of view.
The fundamental weakness of collective bargaining is that while it
provides machinery for adjustment of grievances, while it looks forward
to all the conceivable emergencies which may arise to cause disagreement
between labor and capital, and seeks methods to meet these, it does not
give labor a direct share in industrial control. In the collective
_bargain wages_ and the conditions of employment are usually determined
by the relative _bargaining_ strength of the workers and employers of
the industrial group. Not bargaining in any form, not negotiation, is
the key to industrial peace and prosperity; the collective contract must
in time go the way of the individual contract. Community is the key-word
for all relations of the new state. Labor unions have long been seeking
their “rights,” have looked on the differences between capital and labor
as a fight, and have sought an advantageous position from which to carry
on the fight: this attitude has influenced their whole internal
organization. They quite as much as capital must recognize that this
attitude must be given up. If we want harmony between labor and capital,
we must make labor and capital into one group: we must have an
integration of interests and motives, of standards and ideals of
justice.
It is a mistake to think that social progress is to depend upon anything
happening to the working people: some say that they are to be given more
material goods and all will be well; some think they are to be given
more “education” and the world will be saved. It is equally a mistake to
think that what we need is the conversion to “unselfishness” of the
capitalist class. Those who advocate profit-sharing are not helping us.
The quarrel between capital and labor can never be settled on material
grounds. The crux of that quarrel is not profits and wages—it is the
joint control of industry.
There has been an increasing tendency of recent years for employers to
take their employees into their councils. This ranges from mere
“advisory” boards, which are consulted chiefly concerning grievances,
through the joint committees for safety, health, standardization, wages
etc., to real share in the management.[45] But even in the lowest form
of this new kind of coöperation we may notice two points: the advisory
boards are usually representative bodies elected by the employees, and
they are consulted as a whole, not individually. The flaw in these
advisory boards is not so much, as is often thought, because the
management still keeps all the power in its own hands, as that the
company officials do not sit with these boards in joint consultation.
There is, however, much variety of method. In some shops advisory
committees meet with the company officials. Some companies put many more
important questions concerning conditions of employment before these
bodies than other companies would think practical. A few employers have
even given up the right to discharge—dismissal must be decided by
fellow-employees.
Usually the management keeps the final power in its own hands. This is
not so, however, in the case of Wm. Filene Son’s Co., Boston, which has
gone further than any other plant in co-management. Here the employees
have the right by a two-thirds vote to change, initiate, or amend any
rule that affects the discipline or working conditions of the employees
of the store, and such vote becomes at once operative even against the
veto of the management. Further, out of eleven members of the board of
directors, four are representatives of the employees.[46]
The great advantage of company officials and workers acting together on
boards or committees (workshop committees, discipline boards, advisory
councils, boards of directors, etc.) is the same as that of the regular
joint conferences of the Trade Agreement: employers and employed can
thus learn to function together and prepare the way for joint control.
Workshop committees should be encouraged, not so much because they
remove grievances etc., as because in the joint workshop committee,
managers and workers are learning to act together. Industrial democracy
is a process, a growth. The joint control of industry may be established
by some fiat, but it will not be the genuine thing until the _process_
of joint control is learned. To be sure, the workshop committees which
are independent of the management are often considered the best for the
workers because they can thus keep themselves free to maintain and fight
for their own particular interests, but this is exactly, I think, what
should be avoided.
The labor question is—Is the war between capital and labor to be
terminated by fight and conquest or by learning how to function
together? I face fully the fact that many supporters of labor believe in
what they call the “frank” recognition that the interests of capital and
labor are “antagonistic.” I believe that the end of the wars of nations
and of the war between labor and capital will come in exactly the same
way: by making the nations into one group, by making capital and labor
into one group. Then we shall learn to distinguish between true and
apparent interests, or rather, between long-run and immediate interests;
then we shall give up the notion of “antagonisms,” which belong to a
static world, and see only difference—that is, that which is capable of
integration. This is not an idealistic treatment of the labor problem.
Increase of wages and reduction in cost of production were once
considered an irreconciliable antagonism—now their concurrence is a
matter of common experience. If the hope of that concurrence had been
abandoned as visionary or idealistic, we should be sadly off to-day.
Many people are now making a distinction, however, between production
and distribution in this respect: in the former the interests of capital
and labor are the same, it is said, but not in the latter. When that
reorganization of the business world, which it is no longer utopian to
think of, is further actualized, then in distribution too we shall be
able to see the coincident interests of labor and capital.
As the most hopeful sign in the present treatment of industrial
questions is the recognition that man with his fundamental instincts and
needs is the very centre and heart of the labor problem, so the most
hopeful sign that we shall fully utilize the constructive powers which
will be released by this psychological approach to industrial problems,
is the gradually increasing share of the workman in the actual control
of industry.
The recognition of community rather than of individuals or class, the
very marked getting away from the attitude of pitting labor interests
against the interests of capital, is the most striking thing from our
point of view about the famous report formulated by a sub-committee of
the British Labor Party in the autumn of 1917. In every one of the four
“Pillars” of the new social order this stands out as the most dominant
feature. In explaining the first, The Universal Enforcement of the
National Minimum, it is explicitly stated that this is not to protect
individuals or a class, but to “safeguard” the “community” against the
“insidious degradation of the standard of life.” The second, The
Democratic Control of Industry, proposes national ownership and
administration of the railways, canals and mines and “other main
industries ... as opportunity offers,” with “a steadily increasing
participation of the organized workers in the management,” the extension
of municipal enterprise to housing and town planning, public libraries,
music and recreation, and the fixing of prices. This “Pillar,” too, we
are told, is not a class measure, but is “to safeguard the interests of
the community as a whole.”
Under the heading, “Revolution in National Finance,” the third “Pillar,”
it is again definitely stated and moreover convincingly shown that this
is not “in the interests of wage-earners alone.” Under “The Surplus
Wealth for the Common Good,” the fourth “Pillar,” it is stated that the
surplus wealth shall be used for what “the community day by day needs
for the perpetual improvement and increase of its various enterprises,”
“for scientific investigation and original research in every branch of
knowledge,” and for “the promotion of music, literature and fine arts.”
“It is in the proposal for this appropriation of every surplus for the
common good—in the vision of its resolute use for the building up of the
community as a whole ... that the Labor Party ... most distinctively
marks itself off from the older political parties.”[47]
-----
Footnote 36:
It is interesting to notice that Miss Lathrop’s whole conception of
the Children’s Bureau is that it is to fit children into the life of
the community.
Footnote 37:
See Appendix.
Footnote 38:
The new farm industrial system which is to replace Sing Sing is
founded largely on the community idea.
Footnote 39:
France, Norway, Switzerland. In Norway it is said that more then
three-quarters of the cases which come before the conciliation courts
are settled without law suits.
Footnote 40:
“Experiences in Coöperative Competition,” by W. V. Spaulding.
Footnote 41:
The great value of Robert Valentine’s work consisted in his
recognition of this fact.
Footnote 42:
I am speaking in general. It is true that the history of cases settled
by arbitration reveals many in which the “umpire” has insisted that
negotiations continue until the real coincident interest of both sides
should be discovered.
Footnote 43:
It has long been known in England and America but recently it has been
spreading rapidly.
Footnote 44:
Recently abandoned.
Footnote 45:
The three firms which have carried co-management furthest are the
Printz-Biederman Co. of Cleveland, the Wm. Filene’s Sons Co. of Boston
and the U. S. Cartridge Co. of Lowell. See Report of Committee on
Vocational Guidance, Fourth Annual Convention of National Association
of Corporation Schools, by Henry C. Metcalf.
Footnote 46:
We have a number of minor instances of the recognition of the group
principle in industry. An interesting example is the shop piece-work
in the Cadbury works, where the wages are calculated on the output of
a whole work-room, and thus every one in the room has to suffer for
the laziness of one. (See “Experiments in Industrial Organization,” by
Edward Cadbury.)
Footnote 47:
I have not spoken of the coöperative buying and selling movement
because by the name alone it is obvious how well it illustrates my
point, and also because it is so well known to every one.
Another evidence of the spreading of the community idea is the wide
acceptance of the right of the community to value created by the
community.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
XV
FROM CONTRACT TO COMMUNITY
--------------
BUT perhaps nowhere in our national life is the growing recognition of
the group or community principle so fundamental for us as in our modern
theory of law. Mr. Roscoe Pound has opened a new future for America by
his exposition of modern law, an exposition which penetrates and
illumines every department of our thought. Let us speak briefly of this
modern theory of law. It is: (1) that law is the outcome of our
community life, (2) that it must serve, not individuals, but the
community.
Mr. Pound, in a series of articles on “The Scope and Purpose of
Sociological Jurisprudence” in the Harvard Law Review (1910-1912),
points out that it was an epoch-making moment when attention began to be
turned from the nature of law to its purpose. The old conception of law
was that “new situations are to be met always by deductions from old
principles.” The new school (headed by Jhering) believe that “law is a
product of conscious and increasingly determinate human will.” “Legal
doctrines and legal interests do not work themselves out blindly, but
have been fashioned by human wants to meet human needs.” Before Jhering
the theory of law had been individualistic; Jhering’s is a social theory
of law. “The eighteenth century conceived of law as something which the
individual invoked against society; ... Jhering taught that it was
something created by society through which the individual found a means
of securing his interests, so far as society recognized them.” And
Jhering called his a jurisprudence of realities; he wanted legal
precepts worked out and tested by results. For instance, if a rule of
commercial law were in question, the search should be for the rule which
best accords with and gives effect to sound business practice.[48]
So, Mr. Pound tells us, the idea of justice as the maximum of individual
self-assertion, which began to appear at the end of the sixteenth
century and reached its highest development in the nineteenth century,
began to give way towards the end of the nineteenth century to the new
idea of the end of law. Modern jurists have come to consider the working
of law more than its abstract content; they lay stress upon the social
purposes which law subserves rather than upon sanction.[49]
Mr. Pound then shows us that Gierke’s theory of association “became as
strong an attack upon the individualistic jurisprudence of the
nineteenth century upon one side as Jhering’s theory of interests was
upon another.” The “real personality” of the group is plainly expounded
by Gierke, that it is not a legal fiction, that is that the law does not
create it but merely recognizes that which already exists, that this
“real person” is more than an aggregation of individuals, that there is
a group will which is something real apart from the wills of the
associated individuals.
Thus German jurists recognize the principle of “community.” The theory
of Vereinbarung, as expounded by Jellinek,[50] is also a recognition of
the fact that one will can be formed from several. The present tendency
to work out the law of association through the study of the group is
marked and significant.
The chief consequence of this growing tendency in modern juristic
thinking is seen in the change in attitude towards contract. The
fundamental question of relation, of association, is—Can you make one
idea grow where two grew before? _This_ is the law of fruitful increase.
The gradual progress away from contract in legal theory is just the
gradual recognition of this principle. You can have a contractual
relation between two wills or you can have those two wills uniting to
form one will. Contract never creates one will. It is the latter process
which is shown in the development of corporation law.[51] The laws
regulating partnership are based on contractual relations between the
individual members. The laws regulating corporations are based on the
theory that a corporation is something quite different from the
individuals who constitute it or the sum of those individuals, that a
new entity has been created. I am writing at this moment (February,
1918) in a room with the thermometer at 42, but the law would not uphold
me in going and getting my share, as a stock holder, of the coal now in
the New York, New Haven and Hartford sheds! But to many the personality
of the corporation is a fiction: they do not consider the corporation a
self-created entity but a state-created entity. To others, following
Gierke, the corporation is merely a state-_recognized_ entity, it has
the inherent power to create itself. The increasing acceptance of this
latter theory has made it possible to hold liable groups which have not
been legally incorporated but which exercise powers analogous to those
of corporations. This has been the principle of some of the English
decisions making trade-unions responsible, as notably in the Taff-Vale
case.
The paradox of contract is that while it seems to be based on relation,
it is in reality based on the individual. Contract is a particularist
conception. Mr. Pound speaks of the significance of the “parallel
movement away from liberty of contract and yet at the same time towards
the full recognition of association.” It is the legal theory of
association based on our growing understanding of group psychology which
will finally banish contract. When Duguit, the eminent French jurist,
tells us that contract is diminishing, it is because he sees a time when
all juridical manifestations will come from unilateral acts.[52] We see
contract diminishing because we believe in a different mode of
association: as fast as association becomes a “community” relation, as
fast as individuals are recognized as community-units, just so fast does
contract fade away. Jellinek points out that legal theory is coming to
recognize that violation of community is quite different from the
violation of contract.
From status to contract we do not now consider the history of liberty
but of particularism—the development of law through giving a larger and
larger share to the particular will. The present progress of law is from
contract to community. Our particularistic law is giving way to a legal
theory based on a sound theory of interrelationship. Our common law has
considered men as separate individuals, not as members of one another.
These separate individuals were to be “free” to fight out their
differences as best they could, it being overlooked that freedom for one
might not mean freedom for the other, as in the case of employer and
employed. “Individual rights” in practice usually involve some
difference of opinion as to who is the individual! Mr. Olney said of the
Adair case: “It is archaic, it is a long step into the past, to conceive
of and deal with the relations between the employer in such industries
and the employee as if the parties were individuals.”[53]
The principles of individual rights and contract which have long
dominated our courts[54] are giving way now to sounder doctrine. The old
idea was that a man could do what he liked with his own; this is not the
modern notion of law. We find a judge recently saying: “The entire
scheme of prohibition as embodied in the Constitution and laws of Kansas
might fail, if the right of each citizen to manufacture intoxicating
liquors for his own use or as a beverage were recognized. Such a right
does not inhere in citizenship.”[55] Our future law is to serve neither
classes nor individuals, but the community. The lawyer is to bring his
accumulation of knowledge not to his clients merely, but to enrich and
interpret and adjust our whole social life.
We have many signs to-day of the growing recognition of community as the
basis of law. The following are taken from an article by Mr. Pound:[56]
The increasing tendency of law to impose limitations on the use of
property, limitations designed to prevent the anti-social use of
property. This has already been noticed in our new building laws.
The limitations now imposed on freedom of contract. This is shown in the
statutes regulating the hours and conditions of labor, in the law of
insurance,[57] in the judicial decisions which have established that the
duties of public service corporations are not contractual, flowing from
agreement, but quasi-contractual, flowing from the calling in which the
public servant is engaged.
Limitations on the part of creditor or injured party to exact
satisfaction. This is illustrated by the homestead exemptions which
prevail in many states, and such exemptions as tools to artisans,
libraries to professional men, and animals and implements to farmers.
Imposition of liability without fault, as illustrated in workmen’s
compensation and employers’ liability.[58]