Every worker stands in this same social relation. The value of a workman

to the world is that he do the best work for the most people, not that

he be “employed” to make clothes for dogs, or to wear an ostentatious

livery behind a mutilated horse. Every human being is to be measured by

his value to society, and the value is in his work, not in his being

“employed”—or paid.

Our non-productive consumer, therefore, is unable to return to a healthy

place in the world. He cannot work because he “does not have to,” and

his efforts to re-distribute the wealth for his own gratification form

merely a “vicious circle” of futile and injurious activity.

Now see the pitiful results. Cut off from normal connection with the

living world by failure to produce, and only generating disease in his

efforts to consume, the unfortunate ex-human begins to die. He may, if

sufficiently wise and self-restrained, keep his body alive; members of

the leisure class frequently live to a great age; but this

well-preserved animal existence only allows more time to suffer from the

unnatural exile. He is not part of the living world, and so falls victim

to various hideous abnormalities. He dwindles and shrivels in social

usefulness till, instead of a vigorous, valuable man or woman, you have

the futile, inadequate creature which cannot even wait upon its own

wants; or, keeping up animal health by caring for the body, he shows the

deformity of his position in furious and senseless activities.

The most conspicuous feature of our leisure class is the elaborate round

of purely arbitrary and unnatural activities in which they ceaselessly

whirl. The only natural activities open to them, the physical, become

abused and perverted in vicious excesses, and their other activities are

a series of arduous games and sports, changing from age to age and year

to year, the purposeless and hopeless spasms of social energy misused.

The working class, on the other hand, suffer differently. That they are

underpaid is plain, that they are overworked is plain; we hear much of

this of late years; what we do not hear so much of is that they suffer

most from the same misunderstanding of what work is. Looking always at

the Pay as the end, the Work only as a means, they labour drearily on

like a blind horse in a treadmill, never seeing their real position in

Society, their real duties, nor their real power. That the unproductive

consumer should believe the absurdities on which his absurd position

rests is comprehensible; but that the producer, not properly supplied

with social nourishment, and overtaxed in the production of the very

supplies he does not get enough of, should accept the basic fallacies

which hold him in his even more absurd position,—this is not so

comprehensible.

Perhaps what does account for it is this: that with all his labour and

suffering the worker after all _is_ Society; he is in the main

performing great service; he has a right to be more contented than the

ex-man who does not work. He is in the more normal position, though he

does not know it; and the sociological laws are always stronger in their

action than our notions. As a matter of fact the working class, which

does not mean merely the “labouring class” of our present terminology,

but which includes all workers with hand and brain, is the world. They

are the acting factors in those processes which constitute social life.

Through all these centuries of unbelief and misbelief they have done the

things which kept the world alive. They have clothed the world, fed the

world, housed the world, taught the world, beautified and improved the

world; yes, and have lifted it from savagery to its present level.

To-day in our democracy they need only enlightenment to see a further

duty to the world in a better organisation of its economic processes.

Thrilled as they are by the swiftly growing current of social

consciousness, conscious as they are that things are wrong, anxious as

they are to set things right, they are still hindered by these economic

errors of us all.

Under the Ego concept they speak of “every man’s right to the product of

his own labour,” a sociological absurdity. In the first place no member

of Society has any “own” labour, our labour is all collective and

co-ordinate. In the second place it is not the product of his fraction

of our labour that a man wants, but the product of the labour of many

other persons, of all times and places. In the third place it is not

even “the equivalent” of his fraction of our labour that a man wants, it

is a previous supply of the social product bearing no relation to his

subsequent output except that of nourishment and stimulus.

In short, there is no true class-distinction in acceptance of those

deep-seated errors which together modify the conduct of mankind so

injuriously. The false classification we are treating is _the product of

those errors_. With right economic belief and action there would be no

division of Producer and Consumer, no Leisure Class, no Working Class,

no serried ranks of Capital and Labour. All would produce, all would

consume; all would work and all would have leisure; all would share in

the social capital and the social labour,—both elements of social

advantage.

The economic relation of the sexes is of enormous importance in our

present-day problems, as I have endeavored to point out in my previous

book, “Women and Economics.” The economic dependence of the female on

the male, her food being obtained, not in industrial relation with

society, but in the sex relation with the individual male, affects the

race not only through the ensuing overdevelopment of sex, but through an

artificial maintenance of primitive ideas and feelings in economics. The

woman’s artless attitude of taking all that is given her and frequently

asking for more, without ever entertaining the idea of return in kind,

of paying for her keep, maintains in the race, as we have previously

shown, the tendency to inordinate consumption, the quenchless appetite

of a parasite. This parasitic appetite is the invariable result of

economic dependence. We need not wonder at the evolution of a parasitic

class when we maintain, or seek to maintain, a parasitic sex.

As we have seen in an earlier chapter, another effect of this condition

is, by its resultant exaggeration of the sex nature of the male, to

maintain in him the belligerent and destructive tendencies which belong

to a remote period of race improvement through sex competition, a period

of animal individualism, and which work much evil in a period of

constructive and co-ordinate industry. Where wealth and progress depend

on the cordial intelligent interdependence of the group, it is most

deteriorating to have maintained this primitive attitude of sex combat.

Again, the male, being obliged to provide goods for several persons

besides himself, and yet being limited in goods to the amount he can

himself produce, the natural desires of the individual are augmented by

the accumulated desires of the whole family, yet gratified only through

him; and each man faces the world, with the output of one, yet requiring

the income to support six—or whatever number he represents! According to

the Want theory this is a beautiful provision of nature for augmenting

the man’s output. In the light of fact it does nothing of the kind. It

simply augments his desire to get—in no way adding to his power to give.

That moving mirror of life, our literature, is one long picture of the

effects of this incarnate appetite at home, dragging ever at the man’s

purse strings, and pushing hard against social honour, social duty, all

the high traits of citizenship.

The child, most important of all, reared in this atmosphere of continual

demand, seeing his father looking on the world as a place to hunt for

prey for his mate and young, seeing his mother do nothing whatever but

minister to the family needs, inevitably grows up to look at life in the

same way. To his growing soul, the world appears to be a number of

houses with families in them. The business of life appears to be to keep

house for these families. The mother does this in a life of personal

service. The father does it in mulcting “the world” as far as he is

able.

If, on the contrary, a young human being grew up to see his father

regarding his work for humanity as the chief duty in life, his mother

with the same attitude, both regarding the consumption of goods as but a

means to further and better work, and those goods always explained to

him to come, not from the individual exertions of his father “wrestling

with the world,” but from the combined exertions of that world—that

great, rich, kind, ever-fruitful, and generous world of willing workers

which feeds all its children so well,—but I stray into consideration of

future conditions instead of present.

At present we have for the common lot of humanity that painful

exhibition known as “the round man in the square hole.” Of all human

troubles, none is so universal as this—a man’s work does not fit him.

His income is insufficient, his output is insufficient, and he does not

healthfully enjoy the process of living. A general condition of

misadaptation, with necessary results of mal-nutrition and

mal-production,—that is the prominent and visible symptom of our

deep-lying psychological errors.

Consider the life of a typical average man.

He is misborn, misfed, mistaught, mis-clothed, misgoverned, to a varying

degree. Instead of having a clear view of the social life and his place

in it, he has a false and distorted view of his personal life, and only

sees the social action as it infringes on him. He is surrounded from

infancy with poor workmanship, the grudging product of those unhappy,

misplaced men in square holes. The education which should be his

introduction to the great and beautiful facts and laws of life, is too

often a “bread-winning” process, practised by celibate women, as being

more respectable than other work, and introducing him merely to a mass

of unrelated facts and old ideas. The higher the field of social

service, the less does “whip-dodging” or “bread-winning” help, and none

is higher than teaching.

Thus mishandled, the boy grows up without the aid of that subtle

discernment and delicately applied special training which would have

brought out his best faculties. He is a blurred, indeterminate,

self-contradicting group of faculties, he has no unerring organic

preference to lead him to his work. He is the nearest approach we can

make to that “all-round man” we hear so much of; but the intricate

duties of social service do not furnish us with one-sized cylindrical

holes for our machine-made pegs. Into some hole he must go, we will not

feed him else; so in he pops, and “settles down for life.”

That is our common phrase for a permanent establishment in the active

service of Society, otherwise known as “self-support,” “earning one’s

living,” “maintaining a family.” Our average man is not expected to love

his work, to enjoy it, to grow continually through it. He does all this

sometimes, but too rarely. Our methods of education have been specially

esteemed, not because they taught the child to like what he did, but

taught him to do what he did not like. We take it for granted that he

will not like his life work, and so seek to fit him for continued

application to distasteful service.

In such work as this, there is a continuous waste of nerve force.

Compelled attention, and action that is not led by interest and fed by

the natural discharge of energy along preferred lines, are suicidally

wasteful. In Nature’s effort to reduce this steady leakage of life

force, she transfers the action to the domain of habit as rapidly as

possible; and the sufferer experiences that much relief. Dislike, the

exhausting effort of enforced attention and the plunging and kicking of

more normal impulses toward other activities, give way at length to a

dull contentment, a patient submission to monotonous routine, and some

pale pleasure in its monotony.

There are three large distinct evils to Society in such an artificial

misplacement of its members. First, the work done is not as good nor as

plentiful as if it were done on lines of true organic relation, by the

men specialised in power and preference for that work. In the second

place, the man is weakened and worn out prematurely by the unnatural

effort to do what he does not like, what he is not fitted for, what is

not his own special work; thus further reducing the output. And in the

third place, the overtaxed and unhappy worker requires all manner of

extra inducements and palliations to keep him at his unsuitable task. He

has to have rest, more and more vacations and changes, or breaks down

sooner. He has to have various fictitious excitements in his work—making

it a game, a race, or a fight; to make up for its lack of normal

interest.

And he has to have “amusement” and “recreation” also of an unnatural,

morbid kind—heavy doses of social stimulus coarsened and concentrated to

suit his exhausted nerves. All this beyond the prominent well-known evil

of the resort to physical stimulant and solace, such as alcohol and

tobacco. These last rapidly deteriorate the physical stock of the race;

again injuring Society in the stuff it is made of; but the degraded and

excessive amusements injure the very soul of Society; lowering every

kind of art which caters to them, and so demoralising the highest lines

of advancement.

A thousand minor lines of injury may be traced, such as the increase in

defective children, owing to exhausted parents, and its accompanying tax

upon Society’s resources; but these main lines stand forth clearly: The

limitation and degradation of the social output, and the deterioration

of tissue in the constituent members of Society.

The deterioration of human stock is twofold; partly due to the strained,

unnatural position of the worker; and partly due to the effect of

inferior supplies furnished by his degraded product. In the more

directly useful human products there is less injury than in the higher

forms. In food and clothing and carpenter work it is easier to detect

fault and falsehood, and there is less of it; though even in these

departments our adulterated food, shoddy clothing, and jerry-built

houses do harm enough; but in the more advanced professions, the evil is

enormous. The faults and falsehoods in product, in literature, art,

religion, government, and education, that spring, first, from their

being done by the round man in the square hole, and second, from their

being done for the unhealthy demands of the other round men in square

holes,—these work incalculable harm.

Here is the girl who is trained to be a teacher because it is reputable,

and who accepts her square hole and does her unsatisfying work as

patiently and dutifully as she can. It is excellence we want in work,

not a patient and dutiful inferiority. This inferior quality of teaching

is further lowered by the unwise demands of the misplaced people who pay

the teacher, and so a continuous morbid action is generated. It would be

a hard task to show one human grief, one human sin, that does not find

part of its cause and maintenance in this so general condition of our

life to-day. See the comparative result in our physical organism if we

set fingers to serving as toes, eyes as ears, lungs as livers. If any

such misplacement were conceivable, it would involve so low a degree of

development in the various parts that it was possible to exchange

services, and none of them could do good service.

In the social organism such high specialism and efficiency as we have is

due to the progressive force of our economic development, calling forth

such positive preference in some men that they will do the work they

like best. All the world’s great servants and helpers have been thus

driven from within, by the rising flood of social energy, specialised to

one burning focal point of expression. Such men work without reward, and

regardless of opposition; work their lives long, often live and die poor

and unhonoured, simply because they were true to their fundamental duty

as human beings—to serve Society in the function for which they were

evolved. In spite of their neglect, abuse, and injury, they are not to

be pitied; for, on the one hand, they had the enormous joy of serving

humanity; and on the other—even if they were not aware of that high

pleasure—they had the intense functional satisfaction of doing the work

they were made for.

We are so used to “the dull level of mediocrity,” and the labour whose

noblest height is conscientious effort, that when we do find a strongly

specialised individual so highly fitted to perform one service that he

can do no other—we call him a genius. So great is the power of working

in these “geniuses”—the happy lavish outpour of social energy through a

natural channel—that we have put the cart before the horse as usual, and

defined genius as “the capacity for hard work.” There are a thousand

hard workers for one genius, but a fact like that does not worry our

shallow generalisers. Unfortunately, owing to our lack of true education

and the crushing weight of the false, only the exceptional genius now

and then succeeds in forcing his way to his true place, and he does it

by breaking through the poor, blundering, reward-and-penalty system with

which we obstruct social development, and by letting out what is in him,

producing his natural fruitage of work, quite irrespective of pay or

punishment.

Thanks to this quenchless functional vigour of Society we are never

without some natural work; and thanks to our vast facility of

transmission we all share in the products of genius to a greater or less

extent. Yet it is but a painful and niggard harvest compared to the

universal crop we might enjoy if we would let it grow. Happiness to the

individual is in fulfilment of function, it is as much in farming as in

fiddling, if you like it—“every man to his taste.” And the benefit to

society lies in every man’s working “to his taste”; as beautiful and

desirable a combination as need be imagined.

This does not mean that all would manifest transcendent genius, but that

each, in his place and degree, would have that strong instinctive

tendency, that vivid delight in fulfilment of function which should

accompany human work in every department.

XVII: THE TRUE POSITION

_Summary_

_Duty of improvement for individual and race. Effect of Ego concept.

Collective nature of Christianity—“‘our’ daily bread.” Unity of man.

“Kingdom of Heaven.” First human duty to assume right functional

relation to Society. Right social relation tends to develop all virtues,

to eliminate all sins. Want Theory and theft corollary. Normal

distribution prevents abnormal acquisition. Sins against property and

person. Thieving produced by clot of wealth. Right organic relation. End

of “the wolf,” of “our” sins, of unnecessary diseases. Twofold duty—to

change concepts and conditions. Public school and library. Social debt

to the worker. Malthusian doctrine. True law of increase in population.

Natural selection among individuals. Difference in organic development.

Artificial selection. Stirpiculture. Superior methods of social

improvement. Poverty increases number of births, but decreases quality.

“Individuation is in inverse proportion to reproduction.” Splendid

opportunities. Two roads to health. Right condition—right action.

General cause of local evil. The home, effect on social consciousness.

Better housing. Way to growth. Human nature. Happiness._

XVII

THE TRUE POSITION

To be—to re-be—and to be better, none can deny this order of duties; and

the last is the highest.

To become better as individuals has long been preached to us; to become

better as a race is no unnatural proposition. Heretofore, the Ego

concept ruling, we have supposed that this was only to be done by

improving as many individuals as possible. And as individual conduct,

ego-guided, consisted in each doing things for his own benefit, here and

hereafter; our improvement has been somewhat hesitant and tortuous, both

in person and in race. It is really singular to see how the Ego concept

has held us from understanding what was best in our religion. The one

great advantage of Christianity over Buddhism, or Mohammedanism, is in

its radical _collectivity_. As far as a pure monotheism goes—the

constant worship and service of God, the Mohammedan is beyond us. As far

as a pure morality goes—an exalted sinlessness, the Buddhist is beyond

us.

But none of them prays: “Give us each day our daily bread.” Now is it

not, truly, a strange thing that we should have been taught that prayer

for two thousand years, and yet every man Jack of us goes forth stoutly,

to get his own private and personal daily bread as rapidly as possible?

The strongly enthroned Ego concept of more ancient times; buttressed

hugely by the dark savagery and sordid barter of as ancient religions,

has successfully evaded the recognition of Christianity’s great central

truth, that man is one. Not only that God is one—Jew and Mohammedan know

that; but that _man_ is one—that we are inextricably interconnected, and

cannot be considered separately. “No man liveth to himself, nor dieth to

himself.” “He that seeketh his life shall lose it, and he that loseth

his life for my sake [man’s] shall find it.” “Inasmuch as ye have done

it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.”

Resting on the firm basis of natural law, and affirmed insistently by

our prevailing religion, is the fact of human solidarity.

The improvement of human life does not consist in withdrawing as many

individual souls as possible for a “reward” (that everlasting payment

theory!) in Heaven; but in a diligent bringing about of what that same

principal prayer of ours sets clearly before us—the Kingdom come, and

the will done, right here. This, too, we have intellectually admitted to

be desirable; but have united in transferring the occasion to a remote

and uncertain period, known as the millennium.

Now, what, in the light of truth as at present open to us, is the best

way to improve the human race, and therefore our highest duty?

Recognising the organic relation of Society; that our very life, to say

nothing of our improvement, rests on our becoming properly related to

each other in the specialised service which constitutes a human life;

and to perform that service ever better—the first duty of a human being

stands prominently forth. It is this:

To assume right functional relation to Society, to one another. Not

charity, not philanthropy, not benevolence, not self-immolation or

self-sacrifice or self anything; but simply to find and hold our proper

place in the Work in which and by which we all live.

To do one’s right work involves all the virtues.

Our virtues are always matters of interrelation; they concern our

attitude toward each other, our treatment of each other. An individual

man, alone, can manifest no virtues beyond those of a clean beast. Human

life is interrelative, and all its virtues, _i. e._, distinctive

qualities, are interrelative. Once accept this basic duty in fulfilment

of specialised service, and all those virtues, we, as individuals, have

been so fatuously striving for, appear in us, as natural corollary of

that right relation. Conversely our “sins,” namely, our various forms of

social disease, manifest in the bewildered individual, will of

themselves go out as naturally as the virtues come in.

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