CHAPTER III.

Division of labor is the law of all existing things, and, therefore, it

should be present in human societies. It is very possible that this is

so; but still the question remains, Of what nature is that division of

labor which I behold in my human society? is it that division of labor

which should exist? And if people regard a certain division of labor as

unreasonable and unjust, then no science whatever can convince men that

that should exist which they regard as unreasonable and unjust.

Division of labor is the condition of existence of organisms, and of

human societies; but what, in these human societies, is to be regarded as

an organic division of labor? And, to whatever extent science may have

investigated the division of labor in the cells of worms, all these

observations do not compel a man to acknowledge that division of labor to

be correct which his own sense and conscience do not recognize as

correct. No matter how convincing may be the proofs of the division of

labor of the cells in the organisms studied, man, if he has not parted

with his judgment, will say, nevertheless, that a man should not weave

calico all his life, and that this is not division of labor, but

persecution of the people. Spencer and others say that there is a whole

community of weavers, and that the profession of weaving is an organic

division of labor. There are weavers; so, of course, there is such a

division of labor. It would be well enough to speak thus if the colony

of weavers had arisen by the free will of its member's; but we know that

it is not thus formed of their initiative, but that we make it. Hence it

is necessary to find out whether we have made these weavers in accordance

with an organic law, or with some other.

Men live. They support themselves by agriculture, as is natural to all

men. One man has set up a blacksmith's forge, and repaired his plough;

his neighbor comes to him, and asks him to mend his also, and promises

him in return either work or money. A third comes, and a fourth; and in

the community formed by these men, there arises the following division of

labor,--a blacksmith is created. Another man has instructed his children

well; his neighbor brings his children to him, and requests him to teach

them also, and a teacher is created. But both blacksmith and teacher

have been created, and continue to be such, merely because they have been

asked; and they remain such as long as they are requested to be

blacksmith and teacher. If it should come to pass that many blacksmiths

and teachers should set themselves up, or that their work is not

requited, they will immediately, as common-sense demands and as always

happens when there is no occasion for disturbing the regular course of

division of labor,--they will immediately abandon their trade, and betake

themselves once more to agriculture.

Men who behave thus are guided by their sense, their conscience; and

hence we, the men endowed with sense and conscience, all assert that such

a division of labor is right. But if it should chance that the

blacksmiths were able to compel other people to work for them, and should

continue to make horse-shoes when they were not wanted, and if the

teachers should go on teaching when there was no one to teach, then it is

obvious to every sane man, as a man, i.e., as a being endowed with reason

and conscience, that this would not be division, but appropriation, of

labor. And yet precisely that sort of activity is what is called

division of labor by scientific science. People do that which others do

not think of requiring, and demand that they shall be supported for so

doing, and say that this is just because it is division of labor.

That which constitutes the cause of the economical poverty of our age is

what the English call over-production (which means that a mass of things

are made which are of no use to anybody, and with which nothing can be

done).

It would be odd to see a shoemaker, who should consider that people were

bound to feed him because he incessantly made boots which had been of no

use to any one for a long time; but what shall we say of those men who

make nothing,--who not only produce nothing that is visible, but nothing

that is of use for people at large,--for whose wares there are no

customers, and who yet demand, with the same boldness, on the ground of

division of labor, that they shall be supplied with fine food and drink,

and that they shall be dressed well? There may be, and there are,

sorcerers for whose services a demand makes itself felt, and for this

purpose there are brought to them pancakes and flasks; but it is

difficult to imagine the existence of sorcerers whose spells are useless

to every one, and who boldly demand that they shall be luxuriously

supported because they exercise sorcery. And it is the same in our

world. And all this comes about on the basis of that false conception of

the division of labor, which is defined not by reason and conscience, but

by observation, which men of science avow with such unanimity.

Division of labor has, in reality, always existed, and still exists; but

it is right only when man decides with his reason and his conscience that

it should be so, and not when he merely investigates it. And reason and

conscience decide the question for all men very simply, unanimously, and

in a manner not to be doubted. They always decide it thus: that division

of labor is right only when a special branch of man's activity is so

needful to men, that they, entreating him to serve them, voluntarily

propose to support him in requital for that which he shall do for them.

But, when a man can live from infancy to the age of thirty years on the

necks of others, promising to do, when he shall have been taught,

something extremely useful, for which no one asks him; and when, from the

age of thirty until his death, he can live in the same manner, still

merely on the promise to do something, for which there has been no

request, this will not be division of labor (and, as a matter of fact,

there is no such thing in our society), but it will be what it already

is,--merely the appropriation, by force, of the toil of others; that same

appropriation by force of the toil of others which the philosophers

formerly designated by various names,--for instance, as indispensable

forms of life,--but which scientific science now calls the organic

division of labor.

The whole significance of scientific science lies in this alone. It has

now become a distributer of diplomas for idleness; for it alone, in its

sanctuaries, selects and determines what is parasitical, and what is

organic activity, in the social organism. Just as though every man could

not find this out for himself much more accurately and more speedily, by

taking counsel of his reason and his conscience. It seems to men of

scientific science, that there can be no doubt of this, and that their

activity is also indubitably organic; they, the scientific and artistic

workers, are the brain cells, and the most precious cells in the whole

organism.

Ever since men--reasoning beings--have existed, they have distinguished

good from evil, and have profited by the fact that men have made this

distinction before them; they have warred against evil, and have sought

the good, and have slowly but uninterruptedly advanced in that path. And

divers delusions have always stood before men, hemming in this path, and

having for their object to demonstrate to them, that it was not necessary

to do this, and that it was not necessary to live as they were living.

With fearful conflict and difficulty, men have freed themselves from many

delusions. And behold, a new and a still more evil delusion has sprung

up in the path of mankind,--the scientific delusion.

This new delusion is precisely the same in nature as the old ones; its

gist lies in secretly leading astray the activity of our reason and

conscience, and of those who have lived before us, by something external.

In scientific science, this external thing is--investigation.

The cunning of this science consists in this,--that, after pointing out

to men the coarsest false interpretations of the activity of the reason

and conscience of man, it destroys in them faith in their own reason and

conscience, and assures them that every thing which their reason and

conscience say to them, that all that these have said to the loftiest

representatives of man heretofore, ever since the world has existed,--that

all this is conventional and subjective. "All this must be abandoned,"

they say; "it is impossible to understand the truth by the reason, for we

may be mistaken. But there exists another unerring and almost mechanical

path: it is necessary to investigate facts."

But facts must be investigated on the foundation of scientific science,

i.e., of the two hypotheses of positivism and evolution, which are not

borne out by any thing, and which give themselves out as undoubted

truths. And the reigning science announces, with delusive solemnity,

that the solution of all problems of life is possible only through the

study of facts, of nature, and, in particular, of organisms. The

credulous mass of young people, overwhelmed by the novelty of this

authority, which has not yet been overthrown or even touched by

criticism, flings itself into the study of natural sciences, into that

sole path, which, according to the assertion of the reigning science, can

lead to the elucidation of the problems of life.

But the farther the disciples proceed in this study, the farther and

farther does not only the possibility, but even the very idea, of the

solution of the problems of life withdraw from them, and the more and

more do they become accustomed, not so much to investigate, as to believe

in the assertions of other investigators (to believe in cells, in

protoplasm, in the fourth condition of bodies, and so forth); the more

and more does the form veil the contents from them; the more and more do

they lose the consciousness of good and evil, and the capacity of

understanding those expressions and definitions of good and evil which

have been elaborated through the whole foregoing life of mankind; and the

more and more do they appropriate to themselves the special scientific

jargon of conventional expressions, which possesses no universally human

significance; and the deeper and deeper do they plunge into the _debris_

of utterly unilluminated investigations; the more and more do they lose

the power, not only of independent thought, but even of understanding the

fresh human thought of others, which lies beyond the bounds of their

Talmud. But the principal thing is, that they pass their best years in

getting disused to life; they grow accustomed to consider their position

as justifiable; and they convert themselves physically into utterly

useless parasites, and mentally they dislocate their brains and become

mental eunuchs. And in precisely the same manner, according to the

measure of their folly, do they acquire self-conceit, which deprives them

forever of all possibility of return to a simple life of toil, to a

simple, clear, and universally human train of reasoning.

Division of labor always has existed in human communities, and will

probably always exist; but the question for us lies not in the fact that

it has existed, and that it will exist, but in this,--how are we to

govern ourselves so that this division shall be right? But if we take

investigation as our rule of action, we by this very act repudiate all

rule; then in that case we shall regard as right every division of labor

which we shall descry among men, and which appears to us to be right--to

which conclusion the prevailing scientific science also leads.

Division of labor!

Some are busied in mental or moral, others in muscular or physical,

labor. With what confidence people enunciate this! They wish to think

so, and it seems to them that, in point of fact, a perfectly regular

exchange of services does take place.

But we, in our blindness, have so completely lost sight of the

responsibility which we have assumed, that we have even forgotten in

whose name our labor is prosecuted; and the very people whom we have

undertaken to serve have become the objects of our scientific and

artistic activity. We study and depict them for our amusement and

diversion. We have totally forgotten that what we need to do is not to

study and depict them, but to serve them. To such a degree have we lost

sight of this duty which we have taken upon us, that we have not even

noticed that what we have undertaken to perform in the realm of science

and art has been accomplished not by us, but by others, and that our

place has turned out to be occupied.

It proves that while we have been disputing, one about the spontaneous

origin of organisms, another as to what else there is in protoplasm, and

so on, the common people have been in need of spiritual food; and the

unsuccessful and rejected of art and science, in obedience to the mandate

of adventurers who have in view the sole aim of profit, have begun to

furnish the people with this spiritual food, and still so furnish them.

For the last forty years in Europe, and for the last ten years with us

here in Russia, millions of books and pictures and song-books have been

distributed, and stalls have been opened, and the people gaze and sing

and receive spiritual nourishment, but not from us who have undertaken to

provide it; while we, justifying our idleness by that spiritual food

which we are supposed to furnish, sit by and wink at it.

But it is impossible for us to wink at it, for our last justification is

slipping from beneath our feet. We have become specialized. We have our

particular functional activity. We are the brains of the people. They

support us, and we have undertaken to teach them. It is only under this

pretence that we have excused ourselves from work. But what have we

taught them, and what are we now teaching them? They have waited for

years--for tens, for hundreds of years. And we keep on diverting our

minds with chatter, and we instruct each other, and we console ourselves,

and we have utterly forgotten them. We have so entirely forgotten them,

that others have undertaken to instruct them, and we have not even

perceived it. We have spoken of the division of labor with such lack of

seriousness, that it is obvious that what we have said about the benefits

which we have conferred on the people was simply a shameless evasion.

On the Significance of Science and Art · 第 3 / 7 章