"freedom." In an earlier part of this essay it was pointed out that
"freedom" was of social origin and application. Its essential meaning is
liberty to carry out the impulses of one's nature unrestricted by the
coercive action of one's fellows. But there is a higher and a more
positive meaning than this. Man is a social animal; his character is a
social product. The purely human qualities not only lose their value
when divorced from social relationships, it is these relationships that
provide the only medium for their activity. To say that a person is
free to express moral qualities in the absence of his fellows is
meaningless, since it is only in their presence that the manifestation
of them is possible. It is the intercourse of man with man that gives to
each whatever freedom he possesses. The restraints imposed upon each
member of a society in the interests of all are not a curtailing of
human freedom but the condition of its realization. To chafe against
them is, to use Kant's famous illustration, as unreasonable as a bird's
revolt against the opposing medium or atmosphere, in ignorance of the
fact that it is this opposition which makes flight possible. The only
genuine freedom that man can know and enjoy is that provided by social
life. Human freedom has its origin in social relationships, and to these
we are ultimately driven to discover its meaning and significance.
So far, then, the sense of power in controlling events which each
possesses presents no insuperable difficulty to a theory of Determinism.
Only one other point remains on which to say a word, and that is whether
a conviction of the causative character of human action would lead to a
weakening of effort or to moral depression. Why should it have this
effect? It is curious that those who fear this result seem to have only
in mind the tendencies to wrongdoing. But if it operates at all it must
operate in all directions, and this would certainly strengthen good
resolutions as well as bad ones. And even though no more were to be
said, this would justify the assertion that merit and demerit would
remain unaffected, and that any harm done in one direction would be
compensated by good done in another. But another important
consideration is to be added. This is that while a consciousness of the
power of habit acts as a retarding influence on wrongdoing, it has an
accelerating influence in the reverse direction--that is, unless we
assume a character acting with the deliberate intention of cultivating
an evil disposition. Besides, the really vicious characters are not
usually given to reflecting upon the origin and nature of their desires,
and are therefore quite unaffected by any theory of volition; while
those who are given to such reflection are not usually of a vicious
disposition. We are really crediting the vicious with a degree of
intelligence and reflective power quite unwarranted by the facts of the
case.
Finally, the criticism with which I have been dealing takes a too purely
intellectual view of conduct. It does not allow for the operation of
sympathy, or for the power of social reaction. And these are not only
real, they are of vital importance when we are dealing with human
nature. For man cannot, even if he would, remain purely passive. The
power of sympathy, the desire for social intercourse, the invincible
feeling that in some way he is vitally concerned with the well-being of
the society to which he belongs, these are always in operation, even
though their degree of intensity varies with different individuals. We
cannot possibly isolate man in considering conduct, because his whole
nature has been moulded by social intercourse, and craves continuously
for social approval. And it is such feelings that are powerful agents in
the immediate determination of conduct. The mental perception of the
causes and conditions of conduct are feeble by comparison and can only
operate with relative slowness. And in their operation they are all the
time checked and modified by the fundamental requirements of the social
structure.
IX.
ENVIRONMENT.
In the course of the foregoing pages we have made frequent reference to
"environment," without the word being precisely described or defined.
The subject was of too great importance to be dismissed with a bald
definition, and to have dealt with it earlier at suitable length might
have diverted attention from the main argument. But so much turns on a
correct understanding of the word "environment" that a discussion of
Determinism would be incomplete that failed to fix its meaning with a
fair degree of accuracy.
A very casual study of anti-deterministic literature is enough to show
that a great deal of the opposition to a scientific interpretation of
human conduct has its origin in a quite wrong conception of what the
determinist has in mind when he speaks of the part played by the
environment in the determination of conduct. Even writings ostensibly
deterministic in aim have not been free from blame in their use of the
word. Thus on the one hand we find it said that man is a creature of his
environment, and by "environment" we are to understand, by implication,
only the material forces, which are assumed to somehow drive man hither
and thither in much the same way as a tennis ball is driven this way or
that by the player. Against this there has been a natural and, let it
be said, a justifiable reaction. Expressed in this way it was felt that
man was not at the mercy of his surroundings. It was felt that, whatever
be its nature the organism does exert some influence over environmental
forces, and that it is not a merely passive register of their
operations. Neither of these views expresses the whole truth. It may be
that each expresses a truth, and it is still more probable, as is the
case with some terms already examined, that the confusion arises from a
mis-use of the language employed.
To-day we are all familiar with the dictum that the maintenance of life
is a question of adaptation to environment--a truth that is equally
applicable to ideas and institutions. But the general truth admitted,
there is next required a consideration of its application to the
particular subject in hand, and in connection with our present topic
some attention must be paid both to the nature of the organism and of
the environment with which we are dealing. We then discover that not
alone are we dealing with an organism which is extremely plastic in its
nature, but that the environment may also vary within very wide limits.
On the one side, and in relation to man, we may be dealing with an
environment that is mainly physical in character, or it may be a
combination of physical conditions and biological forces, or, yet again,
it may be predominantly psychological in its nature. And, on the other
hand, the reaction of the organism on the environment may vary from
extreme feebleness to an almost overpowering determination. We may,
indeed, anticipate our argument by saying that one of the chief features
of human progress is the gradual subordination of the material
environment to the psychologic powers of man.
If, now, we contrast the environment of an uncivilized with that of a
civilized people the difference is striking. The environment of an
uncivilized race will consist of the immediate physical surroundings,
the animals that are hunted for sport or killed for food, and a
comparatively meagre stock of customs and traditions. The environment of
a modern European will add to the physical surroundings an enormously
enlarged mass of social traditions and customs, an extensive literature,
contact with numerous other societies in various stages of culture, and
relations, more or less obscure, to a vast literary and social past. The
environment thus includes not merely the living, but also the dead.
Roman law, Greek philosophy, Eastern religious ideas, etc., all affect
the twentieth century European. It would require a lengthy essay to
enumerate all the influences that dominate the life of a particular
people of to-day, but enough has been said to illustrate the truth that
we must use the term "environment" so as to include _all_ that affects
the organism. And when this is done it soon becomes clear that by the
very growth of humanity the influence of the physical portion of the
environment becomes of relatively less importance with the progress of
the race--it is the subordination of the physical environment that is
the principal condition of the advance of civilization.
But even when our conception of the meaning of environment has been thus
enlarged, we need to be on our guard against misconception from another
side. For the environment is only one factor in the problem; the
organism is another, and the relative importance of the two is a matter
of vital significance. We may still make the mistake of treating the
environment as active and the organism as passive. This would be a
similar mistake to that which is made when morality and religion are
treated as being no more than a reflection of economic conditions. The
action of the environment is given a place of first importance, while
the reaction of the organism on its environment is treated as a
negligible quantity. Historically this may be taken as a reaction
against the extreme spiritualistic view which, in upholding, a theory of
Free-Will made no allowance for the influence of the surroundings. An
extreme view in one direction usually sets up an extreme view by way of
opposition, and it must be confessed that in social philosophy the power
of the environment has often been made omnipotent. The medium has been
presented as active and the organism as passive. Different results occur
because the susceptibilities of organisms vary. Good or bad influences
affect individuals differently for much the same reason that soils
differ in their capacity for absorbing water.
From the scientific and the philosophic side this conception derived a
certain adventitious strength. In the first place there was the now
generally discarded psychology which taught that the individual mind
was as a sheet of blank paper on which experience inscribed its lessons.
And in the second place the growth of biological science brought out
with great distinctness the influence of the environment on organic
life. It was very plain that the quality and quantity of the food
supply, the action of air and light, and other purely environmental
forces exercised an important influence. In the plant world it was seen
how much could be effected by a mere change of habitat. In the animal
world markings and structure seemed to have an obvious reference to the
nature of the environment. It, therefore, seemed nothing but a logical
inference to extend the same reasoning to man, and treat not only his
structure but his mental capacities as being the outcome of the same
kind of correspondence.
But a too rigid application of biological principles lands one in error.
Society is more than a mere biological group, and no reasoning that
proceeds on the assumption that it is no more than that can avoid
confusion. And we certainly cannot square the facts with a theory which
treats the human organism as passive under the operation of
environmental forces. The conviction that man plays a positive part in
life is general, powerful, and, I think, justifiable. But if what _I_ do
is at any time the product of the environmental forces, physical and
other, there does not seem any room for _me_ as an active participant.
And the facts seem to demand that the individual should appear in some
capacity other than that of representing the total in an environmental
calculation. This would leave man with no other function than that of a
billiard ball pushed over a table by rival players. Given the force
exerted by the player, added to the size, weight, and position of the
ball, and the product of the combination gives us the correct answer.
But this kind of calculation will not do in the case of man. Here we
must allow, in addition to external influences, the positive action of
man on his surroundings. The conception of the organism as a plexus of
forces capable of this reaction is, indeed, vital to our conception of a
living being. Granted that in either case, that of the billiard ball and
that of the man, the result expresses the exact sum of all the forces
aiding at the time, there still remains an important distinction in the
two cases. Whether the billiard ball is struck by a professional player
or by an amateur, provided it be struck in a particular way the result
is in both cases identical. An identity of result is produced by an
identity of external conditions.
With the human organism--with, in fact, any organism--this rule does not
apply. In any two cases the external factors may be identical, but the
results may be entirely different. A temptation that leaves one
unaffected may prove overpowering with another. Exactly the same
conditions of food, occupation, residence, and social position may
co-exist with entirely different effects on the organism. These
differences will be manifested from the earliest years and are a direct
consequence of the positive reaction of the organism on its environment,
a reaction that is more profound in the case of man than in that of any
other animal.
To put the matter briefly. In the case of the billiard player the ball
remains a constant factor in a problem in which external conditions
represent a variant. In the case of man and his environment we are
dealing with two sets of factors, neither of which is constant and one
of which--the human one--varies enormously. And the reaction of man on
his environment becomes so great as to result in its practical
transformation.
It may, of course, be urged that all this is covered and allowed for by
heredity. This may be so, but I am arguing against those who while
recognizing heredity fail to make adequate allowance for its operations.
Or it may be said that "environment" covers all forces, including
heredity. But in that case the distinction between organism and
environment is useless--in fact, it disappears. If, however, the
distinction between the two is retained, our theorizing must give full
appreciation to both. And in that case we must not fail to allow for the
transforming power of man over his surroundings. Nor must we overlook
another and a very vital fact, that in a large measure the environment
to which civilised mankind must adapt itself is largely a thing of human
creation.
Viewed as merely external circumstances, the physical environment of man
remains constant. At any rate, such changes as do take place occur with
such slowness that for generations we may safely deal with them as
unchanged. The dissipation of the heat of the earth may be a fact, but
no one takes this into account in dealing with the probabilities of
human life during the next few generations. On the other hand, the
organism represents the cumulative, and consequently, ever-changing
power of human nature, and it is this that gives us the central fact of
human civilization. Whether acquired characters be inherited or not may
be still an open question, but in any case there is no denying that
capacity is heritable, and natural selection will move along the line of
favouring the survival of that capacity which is most serviceable. And
how does increasing capacity express itself? It can do so only in the
direction of giving man a greater ability to control and mould to his
own uses the material environment in which he is placed. Looking at the
course of social evolution, we see this increased and increasing
capacity expressed in art, industries, inventions, etc., all of which
mean in effect a transformation of the material surroundings and their
subjugation to the needs of man. These inventions, etc., not only
involve a transformation of the existing environment; they also mean the
creating of a new environment for succeeding generations. Each
mechanical invention, for example, is dependent upon the inventions and
discoveries that have preceded it, and to that extent it is dependent
upon the environment. But each invention places a new power in the hands
of man, and so enables him to still further modify and control his
surroundings. Human heredity is thus expressed in capacity as
represented by a definite organic structure. This is one factor in the
phenomenon of social evolution. The other factor is the environment in
which the organism is placed and to which it responds. The two factors,
organism and environment, remain constant throughout the animal world.
It is when we come to deal with human society specifically, that we find
a radical change in the nature of the environment to be considered.
Granted that some influence must always be exerted by the purely
material conditions, the fact remains that they become relatively less
powerful with the advance of civilization. The development of
agriculture, the invention of weapons and tools, the discovery of the
nature of natural forces, all help to give the developing human a
greater measure of control over both the physical and organic portion of
his environment, and to manifest a measure of independence concerning
them.
But the supreme and peculiar feature of human society is the creation of
a new medium to which the individual must adapt himself. By means of
language and writing the knowledge and experience gained by one
generation are transmitted to its successors. The human intellect
elaborates definite theories concerning the universe of which it forms a
part. These theories and beliefs form and fashion institutions that are
transmitted from generation to generation. Language stereotypes
tradition and slowly creates a literature. In this way a new medium is
created which is psychological in character, and ultimately dominates
life.
When a dog is about to rest it often tramps round and round the spot on
which it is to recline. Naturalists explain this as the survival of an
instinct which in the wild dog served the useful function of guarding it
against the presence of harmful creatures hidden in the grass. The
domesticated dog is here exhibiting an instinct that belongs to a past
condition of life. But man has few instincts--fewer perhaps than any
other animal. In their stead he has a greater plasticity of nature, and
a more educable intelligence. And it is in the exercise of this educable
organization that the psychological medium as expressed in art,
literature, and inventions, plays its part for good and ill. So soon as
he is able to understand, the individual finds himself surrounded by
ideas concerning home, the State, the monarchy, the Church, and a
thousand and one other things. He is brought into relation with a vast
literature, and also with the play of myriads of minds similar to his
own. Henceforth, it is this environment with which he has chiefly to
reckon in terms of either harmony or conflict. He can no more escape it
than he can dispense with the atmosphere. It is part and parcel of
himself. Without it he ceases to be himself; for if we cut away from man
all that this psychological heredity gives him he ceases to be man as we
understand the term. He becomes a mere animated object.
Finally, we have to note that this psychological environment is
cumulative in character as being is all powerful in its influence. By
its own unceasing activity humanity is continually triumphing over the
difficulties of its material environment and adding to the complexity
and power of its mental one. Inevitably the environment thus becomes
more psychic in character and more powerful in its operations. We may
overcome the difficulties of climate, poor soil, geographical position,
etc., but it is impossible to ignore the great and growing pressure of
this past mental life of the race. It defies all attempts at material
coercion, and gradually transforms a material medium into what is
substantially a psychological one. Man cannot escape the domination of
his own mental life. Its unfettered exercise supplies the only freedom
he is capable of realising, as it constitutes the source of his
influence as a link in the causative process of determining his own
destiny and moulding that of his successors.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber's Note:
Minor punctuation errors have been corrected without note. Inconsistent
hyphenation has not been changed. In the plain-text version, decorative
italics have not been represented.
The following corrections were made to the text:
p. 17: contantly to constantly (constantly enlarging and more
comprehensive)
p. 24: admiting to admitting (even while admitting)
p. 24: which which to with which (with which it is used)
p. 28 (Footnote 2): contraint to constraint (Freedom and constraint)
p. 30 (Footnote 3): acton to action (all volitional action)
p. 34: Maudesley to Maudsley (says Dr. Maudsley)
p. 41: missing "from" added (shall be expelled from our)
p. 58: occured to occurred (occurred in the past)
p. 86: absurdem to absurdum (argument _ad absurdum_)
p. 98: condiitons to conditions (certain conditions, circumstances)
p. 107: Hamiliton to Hamilton (Sir William Hamilton)
------------------------------------------------------------------------
End of Project Gutenberg's Determinism or Free-Will?, by Chapman Cohen