CHAPTER XI.

EVOLUTION.

Language, we have said above, is one of the prime conditions of human

greatness and progress. It is the principal means by which man conserves

his victories over the forces of his environment, and transmits them to

his descendants. But it is, nevertheless, not without its dangers, and

may exert an influence fatal to exact thought. There is a sense in which

language necessarily lags behind thought. For words are coined to

express the ideas of those who fashion them; and as the knowledge of the

next generation alters, and some modification of existing conceptions is

found necessary, there is nothing but the existing array of words in

which to express them. The consequence is that there are nearly always

subtle shades of meaning in the words used differing from the exact

meaning which the new thought is trying to express. Thought drives us to

seek new or improved verbal tools, but until we get them we must go on

using the old ones, with all their old implications. And by the time the

new words arrive thought has made a still further advance, and the

general position remains. It is an eternal chase in which the pursued is

always being captured, but is never caught.

Another way in which language holds a danger is that with many words,

especially when they assume the character of a formula, they tend to

usurp the place of thinking. The old lady who found so much consolation

in the "blessed" word Mesopotamia, is not alone in using that method of

consolation. It does not meet us only in connection with religion, it

is encountered over the whole field of sociology, and even of science.

A conception in science or sociology is established after a hard fight.

It is accepted generally, and thereafter takes its place as one of the

many established truths. And then the danger shows itself. It is

repeated as though it had some magical virtue in itself; it means

nothing to very many of those who use it, they simply hand over their

mental difficulties to its care, much as the penitent in the

confessional hands over his moral troubles to the priest, and there the

matter ends. But in such cases the words used do not express thought,

they simply blind people to its absence. And not only that, but in the

name of these sacred words, any number of foolish inferences are drawn

and receive general assent.

A striking illustration of this is to be found in such a word as

"Evolution." One may say of it that while it began as a formula, it

continues as a fiat. Some invoke it with all the expectancy of a

mediaeval magician commanding the attendance of his favourite spirits.

Others approach it with a hushed reverence that is reminiscent of a

Catholic devotee before his favourite shrine. In a little more than half

a century it has acquired the characteristics of the Kismet of the

Mohammedan, the Beelzebub of the pious Christian, and the power of a

phrase that gives inspiration to a born soldier. It is used as often to

dispel doubt as it is to awaken curiosity. It may express comprehension

or merely indicate vacuity. Decisions are pronounced in its name with

all the solemnity of a "Thus saith the Lord." We are not sure that even

to talk about evolution in this way may not be considered wrong. For

there are crowds of folk who cannot distinguish profundity from

solemnity, and who mistake a long face for the sure indication of a

well-stored brain. The truth here is that what a man understands

thoroughly he can deal with easily; and that he laughs at a difficulty

is not necessarily a sign that he fails to appreciate it, he may laugh

because he has taken its measure. And why people do not laugh at such a

thing as religion is partly because they have not taken its measure,

partly from a perception that religion cannot stand it. Everywhere the

priest maintains his hold as a consequence of the narcotizing influence

of ill-understood phrases, and in this he is matched by the

pseudo-philosopher whose pompous use of imperfectly appreciated formulae

disguises from the crowd the mistiness of his understanding.

A glance over the various uses to which the word "Evolution" is put will

well illustrate the truth of what has been said. These make one wonder

what, in the opinion of some people, evolution stands for. One of these

uses of evolution is to give it a certain moral implication to which it

has not the slightest claim. A certain school of Non-Theists are, in

this matter, if not the greatest offenders, certainly those with the

least excuse for committing the blunder. By these evolution is

identified with progress, or advancement, or a gradual "levelling up" of

society, and is even acclaimed as presenting a more "moral" view of the

Universe than is the Theistic conception. Now, primarily, this

ascription of what one may call a moral element to evolution is no more

than a carrying over into science of a frame of mind that properly

belongs to Theism. Quite naturally the Theist was driven to try and find

some moral purpose in the Universe, and to prove that its working did

not grate on our moral sense. That was quite understandable, and even

legitimate. The world, from the point of view of the Goddite, was God's

world, he made it; and we are ultimately compelled to judge the

character of God from his workmanship. An attack on the moral character

of the world is, therefore, an attack on the character of its maker. And

the Theist proceeded to find a moral justification for all that God had

done.

So far all is clear. But now comes a certain kind of Non-Theist. And he,

always rejecting a formal Theism and substituting evolution, proceeds to

claim for his formula all that the Theist claimed for his. He also

strives to show that the idea of cosmic evolution involves conceptions

of nobility, justice, morality, etc. There is no wonder that some

Christians round on him, and tell him that he still believes in a god.

Substantially he does. That is, he carries over into his new camp the

same anthropomorphic conception of the workings of nature, and uses the

same pseudo-scientific reasoning that is characteristic of the Theist.

He has formally given up God, but he goes about uncomfortably burdened

with his ghost.

Now, evolution is not a fiat, but a formula. It has nothing whatever to

do with progress, as such, nor with morality, as such, nor with a

levelling up, nor a levelling down. It is really no more than a special

application of the principle of causation, and whether the working out

of that principle has a good effect or a bad one, a moralizing, or a

demoralizing, a progressive, or a retrogressive consequence is not

"given" in the principle itself. Fundamentally, all cosmic phenomena

present us with two aspects--difference and change--and that is so

because it is the fundamental condition of our knowing anything at all.

But the law of evolution is no more, is nothing more serious or more

profound than an attempt to express those movements of change and

difference in a more or less precise formula. It aims at doing for

phenomena in general exactly what a particular scientific law aims at

doing for some special department. But it has no more a moral

implication, or a progressive implication than has the law of

gravitation or of chemical affinity. The sum of those changes that are

expressed in the law of evolution may result in one or the other; it has

resulted in one or the other. At one time we call its consequences moral

or progressive, at another time we call them immoral or retrogressive,

but these are some of the distinctions which the human mind creates for

its own convenience, they have no validity in any other sense. And when

we mistake these quite legitimate distinctions, made for our own

convenience, and argue as though they had an actual independent

existence, we are reproducing exactly the same mental confusion that

keeps Theism alive.

The two aspects that difference and change resolve themselves into when

expressed in an evolutionary formula are, in the inorganic world,

equilibrium, and, in the organic world, adaptation. Of course,

equilibrium also applies to the organic world, I merely put it this way

for the purpose of clarity. Now, if we confine our attention to the

world of animal forms, what we have expressed, primarily, is the fact of

adaptation. If an animal is to live it must be adapted to its

surroundings to at least the extent of being able to overcome or to

neutralize the forces that threaten its existence. That is quite a

common-place, since all it says is that to live an animal must be fit to

live, but all great truths are common-places--when one sees them. Still,

if there were only adaptations to consider, and if the environment to

which adaptation is to be secured, remained constant, all we should have

would be the deaths of those not able to live, with the survival of

those more fortunately endowed. There would be nothing that we could

call, even to please ourselves, either progress or its reverse. Movement

up or down (both human landmarks) occurs because the environment itself

undergoes a change. Either the material conditions change, or the

pressure of numbers initiates a contest for survival, although more

commonly one may imagine both causes in operation at the same time. But

the consequence is the introduction of a new quality into the struggle

for existence. It becomes a question of a greater endowment of the

qualities that spell survival. And that paves the way to progress--or

the reverse. But one must bear in mind that, whether the movement be in

one direction or the other, it is still the same process that is at

work. Evolution levels neither "up" nor "down." Up and down is as

relative in biology as it is in astronomy. In nature there is neither

better nor worse, neither high nor low, neither good nor bad, there are

only differences, and if that had been properly appreciated by all, very

few of the apologies for Theism would ever have seen the light.

There is not the slightest warranty for speaking of evolution as being a

"progressive force," it is, indeed, not a force at all, but only a

descriptive term on all fours with any other descriptive term as

expressed in a natural law. It neither, of necessity, levels up nor

levels down. In the animal world it illustrates adaptation only, but

whether that adaptation involves what we choose to call progression or

retrogression is a matter of indifference. On the one hand we have

aquatic life giving rise to mammalian life, and on the other hand, we

have mammalian life reverting to an aquatic form of existence. In one

place we have a "lower" form of life giving place to a "higher" form. In

another place we can see the reverse process taking place. And the

"lower" forms are often more persistent than the "higher" ones, while,

as the course of epidemical and other diseases shows certain lowly forms

of life may make the existence of the higher forms impossible. The

Theistic attempt to disprove the mechanistic conception of nature by

insisting that evolution is a law of progress, that it implies an end,

and indicates a goal, is wholly fallacious. From a scientific point of

view it is meaningless chatter. Science knows nothing of a plan, or an

end in nature, or even progress. All these are conceptions which we

humans create for our own convenience. They are so many standards of

measurement, of exactly the same nature as our agreement that a certain

length of space shall be called a yard, or a certain quantity of liquid

shall be called a pint. To think otherwise is pure anthropomorphism. It

is the ghost of God imported into science.

So far, then, it is clear that the universal fact in nature is change.

The most general aspect of nature which meets us is that expressed in

the law of evolution. And proceeding from the more general to the less

general, in the world of living beings this change meets us in the form

of adaptation to environment. But what constitutes adaptation must be

determined by the nature of the environment. That will determine what

qualities are of value in the struggle for existence, which is not

necessarily a struggle against other animals, but may be no more than

the animal's own endeavours to persist in being. It is, however, in

relation to the environment that we must measure the value of qualities.

Whatever be the nature of the environment that principle remains true.

Ideally, one quality may be more desirable than another, but if it does

not secure a greater degree of adaptation to the environment it brings

no advantage to its possessor. It may even bring a positive

disadvantage. In a thieves' kitchen the honest man is handicapped. In a

circle of upright men the dishonest man is at a discount. In the

existing political world a perfectly truthful man would be a

parliamentary failure. In the pulpit a preacher who knew the truth about

Christianity and preached it would soon be out of the Church.

Adaptation is not, as such, a question of moral goodness or badness, it

is simply adaptation.

A precautionary word needs be said on the matter of environment. If we

conceive the environment as made up only of the material surroundings we

shall not be long before we find ourselves falling into gross error. For

that conception of environment will only hold of the very lowest

organisms. A little higher, and the nature of the organism begins to

have a modifying effect on the material environment, and when we come to

animals living in groups the environment of the individual animal

becomes partly the habits and instincts of the other animals with which

it lives. Finally, when we reach man this transformation of the nature

of the environment becomes greatest. Here it is not merely the existence

of other members of the same species, with all their developed feelings

and ideas to which each must become adapted to live, but in virtue of

what we have described above as the social medium, certain "thought

forms" such as institutions, conceptions of right and wrong, ideals of

duty, loyalty, the relation of one human group to other human groups,

not merely those that are now living, but also those that are dead, are

all part of the environment to which adjustment must be made. And in the

higher stages of social life these aspects of the environment become of

even greater consequence than the facts of a climatic, geographic, or

geologic nature. In other words, the environment which exerts a

predominating influence on civilized mankind is an environment that has

been very largely created by social life and growth.

If we keep these two considerations firmly in mind we shall be well

guarded against a whole host of fallacies and false analogies that are

placed before us as though they were unquestioned and unquestionable

truths. There is, for instance, the misreading of evolution which

asserts that inasmuch as what is called moral progress takes place,

therefore evolution involves a moral purpose. We find this view put

forward not only by avowed Theists, but by those who, while formally

disavowing Theism, appear to have imported into ethics all the false

sentiment and fallacious reasoning that formerly did duty in bolstering

up the idea of God. Evolution, as such, is no more concerned with an

ideal morality than it is concerned with the development of an ideal

apple dumpling. In the universal process morality is no more than a

special illustration of the principle of adaptation. The morality of man

is a summary of the relations between human beings that must be

maintained if the two-fold end of racial preservation and individual

development are to be secured. Fundamentally morality is the formulation

in either theory or practice of rules or actions that make group-life

possible. And the man who sees in the existence or growth of morality

proof of a "plan" or an "end" is on all fours with the mentality of the

curate who saw the hand of Providence in the fact that death came at the

end of life instead of in the middle of it. What we are dealing with

here is the fact of adaptation, although in the case of the human group

the traditions and customs and ideals of the group form a very important

part of the environment to which adaptation must be made and have,

therefore, a distinct survival value. The moral mystery-monger is only a

shade less objectionable than the religious mystery-monger, of whom he

is the ethical equivalent.

A right conception of the nature of environment and the meaning of

evolution will also protect us against a fallacy that is met with in

connection with social growth. Human nature, we are often told, is

always the same. To secure a desired reform, we are assured, you must

first of all change human nature, and the assumption is that as human

nature cannot be changed the proposed reform is quite impossible.

Now there is a sense in which human nature is the same, generation after

generation. But there is another sense in which human nature is

undergoing constant alteration, and, indeed, it is one of the

outstanding features of social life that it should be so. So far as can

be seen there exists no difference between the fundamental capacities

possessed by man during at least the historic period. There are

differences in people between the relative strengths of the various

capacities, but that is all. An ancient Assyrian possessed all the

capacities of a modern Englishman, and in the main one would feel

inclined to say the same of them in their quantitative aspect as well as

in their qualitative one. For when one looks at the matter closely it is

seen that the main difference between the ancient and the modern man is

in expression. Civilization does not so much change the man so much as

it gives a new direction to the existing qualities. Whether particular

qualities are expressed in an ideally good direction or the reverse

depends upon the environment to which they react.

To take an example. The fundamental evil of war in a modern state is

that it expends energy in a harmful direction. But war itself, the

expression of the war-like character, is the outcome of pugnacity and

the love of adventure without which human nature would be decidedly the

poorer, and would be comparatively ineffective. It is fundamentally an

expression of these qualities that lead to the quite healthy taste for

exploration, discovery, and in intellectual pursuits to that contest of

ideas which lies at the root of most of our progress. And what war means

in the modern State is that the love of competition and adventure, the

pugnacity which leads a man to fight in defence of a right or to redress

a wrong, and without which human nature would be a poor thing, are

expended in the way of sheer destruction instead of through channels of

adventure and healthy intellectual contest. Sympathies are narrowed

instead of widened, and hatred of the stranger and the outsider, of

which a growing number of people in a civilized country are becoming

ashamed, assumes the rank of a virtue. In other words, a state of war

creates an environment--fortunately for only a brief period--which gives

a survival value to such expressions of human capacity as indicate a

reversion to a lower state of culture.

We may put the matter thus. While conduct is a function of the organism,

and while the _kind_ of reaction is determined by structure, the _form_

taken by the reaction is a matter of response to environmental

influences. It is this fact which explains why the capacities of man

remain fairly constant, while there is a continuous redirecting of these

capacities into new channels suitable to a developing social life.

We are only outlining here a view of evolution that would require a

volume to discuss and illustrate adequately, but enough has been said to

indicate the enormous importance of the educative power of the

environment. We cannot alter the capacities of the individual for they

are a natural endowment. But we can, in virtue of an increased emphasis,

determine whether they shall be expressed in this or that direction. The

love of adventure may, for example, be exhausted in the pursuit of some

piratical enterprise, or it may be guided into channels of some useful

form of social effort. It lies with society itself to see that the

environment is such as to exercise a determining influence with regard

to expressions of activity that are beneficial to the whole of the

group.

To sum up. Evolution is no more than a formula that expresses the way in

which a moving balance of forces is brought about by purely mechanical

means. So far as animal life is concerned this balance is expressed by

the phrase "adaptation to environment." But in human society the

environment is in a growing measure made up of ideas, customs,

traditions, ideals, and beliefs; in a word, of factors which are

themselves products of human activities. And it is for this reason that

the game of civilization is very largely in our own hands. If we

maintain an environment in which it is either costly or dangerous to be

honest and fearless in the expression of opinion, we shall be doing our

best to develop mental cowardice and hypocrisy. If we bring up the young

with the successful soldier or money-maker before them as examples,

while we continue to treat the scientist as a crank, and the reformer as

a dangerous criminal, we shall be continuing the policy of forcing the

expression of human capacity on a lower level than would otherwise be

the case. If we encourage the dominance of a religion which while making

a profession of disinterested loftiness continues to irradiate a narrow

egotism and a pessimistic view of life, we are doing our best to

perpetuate an environment which emphasizes only the poorer aspects of

human motive. Two centuries of ceaseless scientific activity have taught

us something of the rules of the game which we are all playing with

nature whether we will or no. To-day we have a good many of the winning

cards in our hands, if we will only learn to play them wisely. It is not

correct to say that evolution necessarily involves progress, but it does

indicate that wisdom and foresight may so control the social forces as

to turn that ceaseless change which is indicated by the law of evolution

into channels that make for happiness and prosperity.

A Grammar of Freethought · 第 11 / 18 章