Walhalla had some action in them, probably because the savage believers
knew of no other way to procure food save by hunting for it. With the
red man and the brawny slayer of Scandinavia, action was so intimately
connected with gratification and with honour that their future state had
something doing as well as eternal banqueting. But observe the more
sophisticated Mohammedan Paradise, with its ecstatic debauchery, and our
own Hebrew Heaven, with its music and jewelry and the chorused adoration
of an oriental court,—no action is predicated of these, save that
necessary to get there. We postulate rest, peace, plenty, rich and
beautiful surroundings, things to have for eternal joy, not things to
do.
Some of our seers and philosophers have often perceived the fallacy of
this belief, and have preached in various voices to the effect that man
should “Act well his part—there all the honour lies.”
Moreover, most of us practically find that there is more pleasure in
doing what we are best fitted for than in having anything whatever; but
still the dominant governing theory of humanity holds that a man’s real
business is to get such and such good and that “he won’t be happy till
he gets it”! I heard this theory well expressed in passing by two men in
the street recently; well-dressed, important-looking, elderly men:
“Yes,” said one of them, shaking a handsome cane, “they get their money
all over the world and come here to spend it, to live!”
A better expression of this dominant belief it would be hard to find.
The immense world-wide activities of the business men alluded to were
defined merely as “getting money,” and the spending of that money, the
obtaining all manner of materials for consumption, was defined as
“living.” Acting under this belief we see the majority of mankind using
continual effort to get things for themselves and their families, and,
when the things they desired are attained, yet no resultant satisfaction
follows, they merely transfer the ideal and seek to get more, other, and
different things. Against this tendency a minor line of philosophy has
been levelled, preaching contentment, but this philosophy is still on
the wrong basis, for it is still _the things_ we are told to be
contented with—those we have instead of those we have not, that’s all.
In practical truth the happiness of man in what he gets is limited,
extremely limited, but the happiness of man in what he does is
unlimited. The receiving capacity of our nervous system is soon
exhausted, but the discharging capacity has no limit but that of natural
periods of rest. The pleasure in expression increases with use, the
pleasure in impression decreases with use.
It is interesting, pathetic, and absurd, to see the spasmodic contortion
of nature under the effort to enjoy having things. We enjoy food,
naturally. The use of food is, plainly, to enable us to do things, and
if we do enough we always enjoy food. But the foolish person ignores
doing things and seeks to enjoy food as an end in itself. The enjoyment
soon palling, and even decreasing as the natural appetite decreases, the
foolish person then pushes on in a line of artificial enhancements of
this natural function, bringing in an elaborate convocation of other
senses, with various luxuries and arts, so as to prolong and increase
his enjoyment. The enjoyment receding vaguely before him, he adds
eccentricities to his luxuries, runs the gamut of elaborate changes, and
plays Hob with his internal organs, all in the persistent endeavour to
hold on to the enjoyment of eating.
In this particular field of enjoyment no animal alive has attained such
subtle, exquisite, and long-drawn pain as we have achieved withal. Our
array of alimentary diseases is really instructive, yet does not seem
really to instruct us. We still persist in putting the cart before the
horse and looking for pleasure in what we get. In the field of economic
action, this fallacy exerts a constant evil influence not only by
checking the output, but by degrading and distorting that output to suit
the growing vitiation of taste which always results from this belief.
The governing concepts of any society at any period tend inevitably to
such and such results, but their effect is modified by interaction and
by many external circumstances. As the society grows and circumstances
change we may see one and another root-thought working to its special
result; checked by this, modified by that, but always tending to its own
end. So this one thought, acting with all our others, right and wrong,
may be followed in the ever-present social tendency to luxury and
excess.
If you believe that happiness lies in the impressions you receive, you
naturally modify your action to the purpose of securing the desired
impression. Seeing the impressions fail to produce the expected
happiness, but still believing in the theory, you simply strive to
secure further impressions. Finding, as jaded emperors have found, that
to have everything in the world you want does not make you happy, you
still hold on to the theory and merely sigh for new worlds to conquer;
or, if your religion is also built on this theory, look forward to an
eternity of having things to make you happy.
The demand for happiness is perfectly healthy and right, but we are
mistaken as to the means. Every possible impression receivable by the
human sensorium is merely an incentive to _expression_. We are
transmitters of energy, not vats for storage. Our capacity for storage
is merely to give us wider and longer range in our discharge. The living
force of the Universe is pushing through man, and as that force is
greater than he, so is the joy of doing greater than the joy of having.
“It is more blessed to give than to receive.” Of _course_!
Let us study some of the practical results of this false concept of
ours. One of the most exquisitely sublimated extremes of its action is
seen in our distinctively human practice of what is called “collecting.”
It is bewildering at first. That a squirrel should collect nuts, and, on
the same line, that Pharaoh should collect wheat, or that the housewife
should collect food in advance, is all “natural.” That anyone should
collect that “greatest common denominator,” money, is the same tendency
as above. But that a human creature should collect a vast supply of
objects which he does not use, never intends to use, and could not use
if he wanted to, is truly remarkable.
The objects may be of use to other people—if they had them—as in
innumerable pieces of china, but of no use to him; or they may be of no
use to anybody, like defaced postage-stamps—but that does not affect the
collecting instinct. This depraved appetite, seeking to acquire for
personal “ownership” without even the excuse of consumption, frankly
waiving the pleasure of using the things and affixing that pleasure
solely to the getting and having of them, is as morbid a process as
could well be imagined. It is “the mania for owning things” in full
delirium.
What is the normal law of ownership? It is simple, like all natural
laws.
Social processes are served through the social body, through a great
number of detached mechanical structures. The social functionaries, in
order to carry on their functions, must have a certain extra-physical
environment. The family and the individuals therein must have homes, the
body must have its clothes, the worker of all sorts must have his tools,
his shop, all that is necessary for his work. Society requires of the
individual the performance of certain functions. That performance
requires the continuous use of certain mechanical adjuncts. Society must
guarantee to the individual the continuous possession of those adjuncts,
of the things necessary for him to do his work. That is the social
“right of property.”
All property is a social product, evolved in the course of social
development, needed by society for the social service. Any social
factor, a carpenter, for instance, is a working agent consisting of a
human animal specially skilled and specially tooled. Without the skill
and the tools he is not a carpenter. Society having evolved the skill
and the tools, certain members of Society then become carpenters. Since
their skill is essential to the social service, Society must educate
them; since their tools are essential to the social service, Society
must _secure the tools to the man_. This is ownership, a social right,
quite just, and perfectly natural.
Social relations are psychic. Property rights are psychic relations. We
agree that such men shall own such things, and they do. We deny that
such men own such things, and they don’t! Men once owned
slaves—everywhere. This “right” was gradually withdrawn by the givers,
until it now only exists in certain localities of low social
development. Parents once “owned” their children, could kill or sell
them. This right has been withdrawn.
There is no ultimate basis for human rights but the best interests of
Society, and our conscious recognition of human right depends on our
knowledge of those interests. Thus our rights change from age to age, as
Society changes, and our laws and customs slowly follow the new
developments in social consciousness. In our time we are in the active
throes of change on two great subjects, the rights of women and the
rights of property.
On the latter head this formula is advanced as a safe one: The
individual has a right to those things necessary for him to best serve
Society. That is, the carpenter has a right to his tools, and the
musician to his instrument, both to their special education, and they
and all men to the food, shelter, clothing, and other things necessary
to their _best social service_.
Not a return _equivalent_ to, as we try to arrange our system of
payment, but a supply _necessary_ to, in advance. If a man is to write
books for humanity he has a right to his pen, ink, and paper; and to
such other conditions as are essential to his best productivity; but
because one man’s books are worth ten times as much as another’s, is no
reason why he should have ten times as much pen, ink, and paper.
Consumption is a _means to production_—impression is of value as it
conduces to expression. The pleasure and the duty are in Doing. Having
is merely contributory.
Our mistake about consumption is what our payment system rests on; we
work merely to obtain something; and that something is rigorously
measured according to our previous labour. In changing the ground of our
thought, we shall recognise that production is the main issue of life;
that consumption is essential to it; that each social factor has a right
to such supplies as shall best promote his productivity, and that they
shall be provided him in advance.
“The mill will never grind with the water that”—hasn’t come!
If this position be reluctantly admitted, there follows the alarmed
demand: “But if the consumption of the individual is not measured by his
previous output, how shall we measure it—how shall we prevent him from
an inordinate, a disproportionate, socially wasteful consumption?”
How do you measure the dinner for your family and friends? What prevents
them from eating a bushel apiece? The natural limit of consumption is
capacity, the natural measure is necessity and appetite. A constant and
sufficient supply of anything does not provoke inordinate
consumption—quite the contrary. A refined and moderate selection is the
result of full and adequate provision. Inordinate consumption is the
result of a deranged supply. People who customarily do not have certain
things cannot develop taste and judgment in selecting them.
People who generally have too little, are quite apt to take too much
when occasion offers. Knowing that the supply is uncertain leads to
taking more than is wanted, so as to store for future use; and the
“pecuniary canons of taste,” so ably described by Veblen (“Theory of the
Leisure Class”), lead to that meretricious display and cultivated
wastefulness which form another phase of our abnormal consumption.
Natural production tends to fill the world with constantly improving
supplies. Natural distribution tends to place those supplies where they
will do the most good. Natural consumption tends to appropriate all that
is good and beneficial, and thereby promotes production—a spiral of
social progress.
We have seen how production and distribution are injuriously affected by
our misbeliefs, notably by the attitude of the obsequious caterer to the
desires of the purchaser. The reason these desires are so deteriorating
to the world’s production is in our false attitude toward consumption.
The combined effect of our popular economic superstitions reaches a
considerable height of injury to society.
Here is the producer limiting his output, as far as possible, to
something well within his income, each man striving to get out of the
world more than he puts in: whereas all our wealth and progress is
conditioned upon our putting in more than we take out—and thanks to the
marvellous productivity of the race, we do, we must, so put in, in spite
of our ego-centric struggles. Here is the producer, again, guiding the
kind and quality of his output, not by real human needs, or by the laws
of improvement inherent in the product, but by the weaknesses and
artificially fomented tastes, as well as by the purchasing power of “the
market.”
If “the market” has a small purchasing power, that means, under our
economic system, that the human beings composing it are low-grade stock,
cannot produce much themselves. Under sociological law it would follow
that they be supplied with the best things, in order to improve their
productive power, in order, again, so to add to the social wealth. But
in our method, measuring what a man shall have by what he can do, we
give the least to those who need the most! Surely anyone can see how
stupid this is—to limit consumption to the value of previous output, and
so steadily to maintain a low output. Conversely, by seeking to increase
consumption in proportion to output, we again do evil; for consumption
has its own inexorable limits, bearing no relation whatever to output,
_after the needs of the producer are really supplied_.
Surely, this too, is plain.
So much fertiliser to the acre will increase the crop—but not
indefinitely. So much fuel to the fire will increase the steam
pressure—but not indefinitely. So much oats to the horse will increase
his speed—but not indefinitely. And so much of our great stock of social
goods will increase a man’s social value, his health, happiness, and
working power—but _not_ indefinitely. Because I am the better worker for
a house suited to my needs, I am not therefore ten times the better
worker for ten houses suited to my needs.
Food, clothing, education, painting, literature, music, entertainment,—a
certain amount is good for a man, improves a man, belongs to a man; but
the indefinite multiplication of that amount merely injures the man.
Now suppose we change our minds about consumption. Suppose we do fairly
recognise these plain, natural facts:
(_a_) Man lives by virtue of social relation.
(_b_) Social relation consists in specialised interservice.
(_c_) That interservice consists in the production and distribution of
all our human goods—from potatoes to poetry.
(_d_) The advantage to Society lies in the constant development of its
processes, a better and easier production and distribution.
(_e_) The duty of the individual lies in his best service to Society in
these vital processes; and the duty of Society lies in supplying to the
child the best conditions for full growth and genuine education, and in
continuing to provide to the adult those conditions essential to his
full, free, and most efficient service.
(_f_) All that we produce is intended for the maintenance and
development of Society.
(_g_) All that we consume is intended to promote our productivity and
general social value.
(_h_) The advantage of the individual lying absolutely in the hands of
Society, it is the obvious business of the individual to see to it that
Society performs its duty to him—to all of him—and, as obviously, to
perform his full duty to it—which is merely all of him.
With this economic creed we should see each individual doing his best
work, and Society eagerly hastening to supply to each individual all
that he needed to do his best work. As against this consummation
devoutly to be wished stand our existing economic concepts:
(_a_) Men live by virtue of their own work.
(_b_) Men have to work in order to satisfy wants.
(_c_) The satisfaction of wants is the purpose of life.
(_d_) The advantage to the individual lies in his getting as much as he
can, and doing as little as he can—in “buying cheap and selling dear.”
(_e_) The improvement of the individual lies in Society’s not giving him
anything till he has shown that he has it already—or its equivalent in
labour. Thus the less ability he has, the less of anything he gets—which
improves him.
(_f_) All that a man produces is his own, and he has a right to consume
it all himself, or destroy it—in any case, to withhold it from those who
want it till they give him as much as he can get for it.
(_g_) All that a man consumes is pure advantage—the advantage of life.
To have everything we want, to accumulate more than we want, to invent
new wants with infinite pains and supply and oversupply them—this is
happiness. And since we find practically that the few who do it are not
happy, and that the many who cannot do it are not happy either, we
assume an eternal appetite, and an eternal gratification in another
world!
(Singular thing—the unsatisfied desires of Man! Trying to put a quart
measure in a pint cup through an india-rubber eternity!)
(_h_) The advantage of the individual lying absolutely in his own hands,
it is his obvious business to take care of himself; and since the
pressure of social relation cannot be ignored, we assume that the
business of society is simply to preserve “a fair field and no favour”
for individuals to struggle in!
“That government is best which governs least.”
“Give us natural opportunities and freedom.”
“A man has a right to do anything he pleases that does not interfere
with the rights of others.”
Fortunately for us the working of natural law is that of the first
creed; and our personally misguided conduct of affairs cannot wholly
crush back the social growth belonging to our time.
In this connection it is important to note the influence of women, in
their artificially restricted position, upon the world’s consumption,
not only in economic fact, but in our inherited feeling and education on
that subject.
Women, as we have repeatedly seen, were the first producers. Creative
industry is theirs by the deepest laws of nature. The female is the
original reproductive stream of life; and in the higher stages of her
development she still manifests the larger range of race-activities. In
the human species for by far the longest period of our life, the
proto-social, she was the main—almost the sole—producer, men being
mostly destroyers. But for the most of our historic period, all the time
that is best known to us, women have been prevented from taking part in
progressive human production and restricted to the duties of a house
servant.
What tendency to specialised social service they might manifest was
promptly banned as “unwomanly,” belonging only to men. The man elected
himself to be sole producer, in the large social sense; and the woman
was to be only a consumer, to depend on him for her maintenance and take
what he gave her.
The position is acutely abnormal—quite opposite to the inherent nature
of the female. It is her instinct to _give_—not to take; ably to do, not
feebly to be done for.
This unnatural attitude was forced upon her, however, with two results,
inevitable results, as regards consumption.
One is that all her flood of power and patience and infinite service
being confined to her one master and their children, she has developed
in them inordinate appetites and morbid tastes. The productive force
that should flow broad and smooth in Society at large, being bottled up
at home, with no consumer but the family, necessarily accustomed the
family to receiving more than was good for it; thus maintaining in the
world the ancient selfishness of the primitive individual, which real
social life tends steadily to reduce. The social instincts, those large
and outflowing feelings we call generosity, justice, altruism, are bred
in the mutual service of specialised social industry; but the individual
instincts, once virtues, now become vices if too prominent, are nursed
and fed continually in that hotbed of all personal indulgence, the
wife-served home.
Thus the position of woman promotes the tendency to inordinate and
morbid consumption in man and child.
But it has also a direct influence on her. She is born and reared in
this same atmosphere; she inherits from father as well as mother; the
habits of many generations have a gradual effect upon her, and all old
civilisations show one monstrous sight, the bottomless greed of the
artificially bred women.
As Cleopatra outdid Antony in “conspicuous consumption”—swallowing a
dissolved pearl worth more than all his gobbled delicacies; as Nana
destroyed expensive furnishings just to amuse herself; so have these
horse-leech’s daughters outdone any sons that estimable sucker may have
had, in the cry of Give! Give!
Burne-Jones’ picture of “The Vampire” typifies well man’s opinion of
this horror which he has so carefully made. Our instinctive dislike of
greed in a woman is based on its unnaturalness, it is essentially
foreign to her sex. But the fact remains that women, in their false
position, have become greedy beyond description. The bountiful producer,
aborted, has become a destructive parasite.
The boundless pouring love, compressed to primitive limits, becomes
morbid and works evil; and the habit of always taking, and never doing,
has produced its unavoidable result, and given us the woman we all know,
who takes, greedily, from a childhood of wheedling, through a youth of
coquetry, and a lifetime of hired matrimony. When it is not matrimony,
language fails to express our horror; but when it is, the commercial
basis discolours the relation; and the plump and beautiful creature in
the costly surroundings she never thought of giving a return for, is in
the same category as a consumer with her less respectable but no less
plump and expensively surrounded sister.
To find the pleasure of life in getting and having, to feel no
honourable impulse to _do_, to _give_, to _work_, to return to labouring
humanity your quota of service,—this is the degraded position into which
we have forced our women, and which expresses itself not only in them,
but in their children, who are all the world.
Such women play the game we call “Society,” whose trivial performances
are celebrated so respectfully in our newspapers in their record of
dinners and dresses and dances, as if where these people ate, or what
they wore, or how they hopped about, was of any earthly importance. The
seriousness with which this class of people who have cut themselves off
from human life by refusing to take part in its active processes, who
neither produce nor distribute, but consume in ever-increasing ratio,
take upon themselves the distinctive name of “Society” is one of the
most paralysing jokes of history. They even designate their pitiful
amusements as “social functions,” a misnomer as consummately absurd as
“Christian Science.”
For a lot of richly caparisoned human animals to get together and eat,
or embrace one another and caper about to the sound of music, has no
more relation to a social function than St. Vitus’s dance has to
chopping wood. A disease is not a function. This fatty degeneration of
the social tissues is a sad and important fact, deserving careful study;
but its importance lies in its danger to the rest of the body politic,
not in any inherent dignity.
If we take our “Society Columns” as medical bulletins, they have some
value perhaps; but vulgarly to enlarge on our forms of disease is at
least bad taste. What we commonly call “Society” is a morbid growth in
the real social structure, developed to meet the artificial needs of
these misplaced women; and such a society, influencing as it does,
through widening ranks of imitators, the markets of the world, has a
most evil effect on our habits of consumption.