Chapter 6

Dr. Leete ceased speaking, and I remained silent, endeavoring to form

some general conception of the changes in the arrangements of society

implied in the tremendous revolution which he had described.

Finally I said, "The idea of such an extension of the functions of

government is, to say the least, rather overwhelming."

"Extension!" he repeated, "where is the extension?"

"In my day," I replied, "it was considered that the proper functions of

government, strictly speaking, were limited to keeping the peace and

defending the people against the public enemy, that is, to the military

and police powers."

"And, in heaven's name, who are the public enemies?" exclaimed Dr.

Leete. "Are they France, England, Germany, or hunger, cold, and

nakedness? In your day governments were accustomed, on the slightest

international misunderstanding, to seize upon the bodies of citizens

and deliver them over by hundreds of thousands to death and mutilation,

wasting their treasures the while like water; and all this oftenest for

no imaginable profit to the victims. We have no wars now, and our

governments no war powers, but in order to protect every citizen

against hunger, cold, and nakedness, and provide for all his physical

and mental needs, the function is assumed of directing his industry for

a term of years. No, Mr. West, I am sure on reflection you will

perceive that it was in your age, not in ours, that the extension of

the functions of governments was extraordinary. Not even for the best

ends would men now allow their governments such powers as were then

used for the most maleficent."

"Leaving comparisons aside," I said, "the demagoguery and corruption of

our public men would have been considered, in my day, insuperable

objections to any assumption by government of the charge of the

national industries. We should have thought that no arrangement could

be worse than to entrust the politicians with control of the

wealth-producing machinery of the country. Its material interests were

quite too much the football of parties as it was."

"No doubt you were right," rejoined Dr. Leete, "but all that is changed

now. We have no parties or politicians, and as for demagoguery and

corruption, they are words having only an historical significance."

"Human nature itself must have changed very much," I said.

"Not at all," was Dr. Leete's reply, "but the conditions of human life

have changed, and with them the motives of human action. The

organization of society with you was such that officials were under a

constant temptation to misuse their power for the private profit of

themselves or others. Under such circumstances it seems almost strange

that you dared entrust them with any of your affairs. Nowadays, on the

contrary, society is so constituted that there is absolutely no way in

which an official, however ill-disposed, could possibly make any profit

for himself or any one else by a misuse of his power. Let him be as bad

an official as you please, he cannot be a corrupt one. There is no

motive to be. The social system no longer offers a premium on

dishonesty. But these are matters which you can only understand as you

come, with time, to know us better."

"But you have not yet told me how you have settled the labor problem.

It is the problem of capital which we have been discussing," I said.

"After the nation had assumed conduct of the mills, machinery,

railroads, farms, mines, and capital in general of the country, the

labor question still remained. In assuming the responsibilities of

capital the nation had assumed the difficulties of the capitalist's

position."

"The moment the nation assumed the responsibilities of capital those

difficulties vanished," replied Dr. Leete. "The national organization

of labor under one direction was the complete solution of what was, in

your day and under your system, justly regarded as the insoluble labor

problem. When the nation became the sole employer, all the citizens, by

virtue of their citizenship, became employees, to be distributed

according to the needs of industry."

"That is," I suggested, "you have simply applied the principle of

universal military service, as it was understood in our day, to the

labor question."

"Yes," said Dr. Leete, "that was something which followed as a matter

of course as soon as the nation had become the sole capitalist. The

people were already accustomed to the idea that the obligation of every

citizen, not physically disabled, to contribute his military services

to the defense of the nation was equal and absolute. That it was

equally the duty of every citizen to contribute his quota of industrial

or intellectual services to the maintenance of the nation was equally

evident, though it was not until the nation became the employer of

labor that citizens were able to render this sort of service with any

pretense either of universality or equity. No organization of labor was

possible when the employing power was divided among hundreds or

thousands of individuals and corporations, between which concert of any

kind was neither desired, nor indeed feasible. It constantly happened

then that vast numbers who desired to labor could find no opportunity,

and on the other hand, those who desired to evade a part or all of

their debt could easily do so."

"Service, now, I suppose, is compulsory upon all," I suggested.

"It is rather a matter of course than of compulsion," replied Dr.

Leete. "It is regarded as so absolutely natural and reasonable that the

idea of its being compulsory has ceased to be thought of. He would be

thought to be an incredibly contemptible person who should need

compulsion in such a case. Nevertheless, to speak of service being

compulsory would be a weak way to state its absolute inevitableness.

Our entire social order is so wholly based upon and deduced from it

that if it were conceivable that a man could escape it, he would be

left with no possible way to provide for his existence. He would have

excluded himself from the world, cut himself off from his kind, in a

word, committed suicide."

"Is the term of service in this industrial army for life?"

"Oh, no; it both begins later and ends earlier than the average working

period in your day. Your workshops were filled with children and old

men, but we hold the period of youth sacred to education, and the

period of maturity, when the physical forces begin to flag, equally

sacred to ease and agreeable relaxation. The period of industrial

service is twenty-four years, beginning at the close of the course of

education at twenty-one and terminating at forty-five. After

forty-five, while discharged from labor, the citizen still remains

liable to special calls, in case of emergencies causing a sudden great

increase in the demand for labor, till he reaches the age of

fifty-five, but such calls are rarely, in fact almost never, made. The

fifteenth day of October of every year is what we call Muster Day,

because those who have reached the age of twenty-one are then mustered

into the industrial service, and at the same time those who, after

twenty-four years' service, have reached the age of forty-five, are

honorably mustered out. It is the great day of the year with us, whence

we reckon all other events, our Olympiad, save that it is annual."

Looking Backward, 2000 to 1887 · 第 6 / 28 章