CHAPTER VI

THE ANSWER TO ITS CRITICS

At the beginning of this study it was said that a definition of social

work was in demand for practical use. We have developed a definition

which seems to hold good as far as it goes. We have said that social

work includes all voluntary attempts to extend benefits in response to

a need, which are concerned with social relationships and which avail

themselves of scientific knowledge and employ scientific methods.

It remains to test whether this is sufficiently descriptive and

sufficiently definitive to be of any practical use. Is it inclusive

enough to allow social work to claim all its legitimate functions and

exclusive enough to rescue it from unreasonable demands? These things

can only be tested by trying it out in discussion. It is therefore the

purpose of this chapter to attempt such a trial by assuming that social

work is no more and no less than the definition indicates and requiring

it, on this representation, to run the gauntlet of familiar criticism.

Up to the present time social work has not been the subject of much

serious analytical comment. It has been too inchoate for that.

But a sort of guerilla warfare of criticism pursues it in private

conversation, on public platforms and in the obiter dicta of current

literature. The criticisms are of three principal sorts, those which

say that what it does is somehow unworthy, those which say it does too

much and those which say it does too little; or, more fully stated,

those which charge it with an unwholesome interest in wanting to

play providence to other people, those which think it is attempting

something in defiance of the laws of nature and those which scorn it

for tinkering with abuses which should be fallen upon and annihilated.

In the first group may be classed the view of people who find the world

well enough as it is and think that social workers stir up hornets’

nests from sheer meddlesomeness and love of power. As this belief

never survives any considerable acquaintance with social work or any

but very provincial knowledge of the world it need not be discussed.

More considerable is the criticism of those who object to social work

because they think that to make demands in the interest of other people

is patronizing or sentimental or both. They think that the people

might possibly ask very different things of life from those which the

social worker asks for them; that if the social worker wishes to help

them he should confine himself to seconding their motions; that an

outsider and mere witness of an abuse who has never felt its weight is

not the one to draw up its indictment or to prescribe a remedy. But

their objection is not altogether on these grounds. Even when social

work makes the same demands as its clients have made for themselves

the irreconcilables continue to denounce it for undue interference.

Some of them, to be sure, think that while self-respecting people are

asking their plain rights in their own name and that of justice social

work makes it easy for the community to neglect their demands and

yet salve its conscience by supporting such benefactions as it finds

convenient. But this last belongs with the next group of criticisms

and must be answered along with them. We are for the moment concerned

only with the strange but apparently rooted belief that there must be

something spurious about a movement in which people are not speaking

for themselves.

It is evident that even people who commend social work, often do

so patronizingly as though it were something not to be taken very

seriously because it is not self-supporting and cannot claim the great,

humdrum, unchallengeable sanction of self interest. Moreover people

in border-line occupations when referred to as social workers will

repudiate the name as though it might discredit their work by taking

it out of the busy wholesome world of fair exchanges and putting it in

a world of patronage and possible hypocrisy. Men advocating industrial

welfare work are commonly not satisfied to claim that it pays for

itself and will be no expense to the business that installs it, but

assert with an air of rescuing it from suspicion, that it results in a

net profit to the man who puts it in and is therefore “not sentiment”

but “good business.” Those who, though themselves not originally

industrial workers, go into the labor movement, very frequently

pour scorn on the social worker while feeling themselves safe from

corrupting condescension in a company that is only asking for its own

rights.

The element of justice in the charge does not need to be pointed out.

Bernard Shaw has warned us against doing unto others as we would have

them do unto us for fear they may not like it. But for members of a

gregarious species some tolerance of ministration seems unavoidable.

Within the labor movement itself those with a margin of time and energy

are constantly acting in the interest of those who have none. We all

begin life with several years of sheer dependence on the altruism

of our elders and if we live long enough come again to some form of

dependence. As we look back on the slow mitigation of man’s inhumanity

to man there seems at least good ground for putting the burden of proof

on those who scorn all benevolent interference. We have already noticed

that what passes in one generation for special interest in the fortunes

of others seems to a later time plain obligation.

“Almost every law on the statute books,” says a historian, in reference

to protective legislation, “was forced upon the legislature by the

disconcerting zeal of a few enthusiasts. We marvel at the slight

concessions to humanity which satisfied them, we should rather admire

the originality which led them to denounce cruel and oppressive

conditions which had satisfied the legislature and against which

their victims had not always turned.”[61] There is the crux of the

matter--the victims will not, cannot always turn. In the palmy days

of utilitarianism when the opposition to doing for others was felt

with the mighty impact of which the present vague distrust is the last

faint ripple fading across the public mind, Mill himself will be found

writing that although it can be stated as a general rule “that most

persons take a juster and more intelligent view of their own interest,

and of the means of promoting it, than can either be prescribed to

them by a general enactment of the legislature, or pointed out in the

particular case by a public functionary” nevertheless “there is no

difficulty in perceiving some very large and conspicuous exceptions to

it.”[62] And among these exceptions he proceeds to enumerate protection

of persons incapable of judging or acting for themselves whether from

defective intelligence or immaturity, and the protection offered by

labor legislation and by public charity. Elsewhere he also remarks,

“Those who most need to be made wiser and better commonly desire it

least, and if they desired it would be incapable of finding the way to

it by their own lights.”[63]

It could probably be shown that the great bulk of social work acts

in the interest of people unable to speak for themselves or vaguely

wanting something they cannot find “the way to by their own lights.”

But victimization and helplessness are entirely relative matters and

social work is prepared boldly to extend benefits wherever they are

wanted.

Science has now laid a broad road and is leading the plodding crowd

where the keen feet of Pegasus have always carried the subtle minded,

whatever the contemporary creed. “Darwin” writes a popular social

psychologist “in the _Descent of Man_ (1871) first enunciated the true

doctrine of human motives, and showed how we must proceed, relying

chiefly upon the comparative and natural history method, if we would

arrive at a fuller understanding of them. * * * Social Psychology

has to show how, given the native propensities and capacities of the

individual human mind, all the complex mental life of societies is

shaped by them and in turn reacts upon the course of their development

and operation in the individual. * * * The fundamental problem of

social psychology is moralization of the individual by the society

into which he is born as a creature in which the non-moral and

purely egoistic tendencies are so much stronger than any altruistic

tendencies.”[64] That is to say the problem which social psychology

must solve is the problem of how this moralization is brought about.

The significance of such doctrine for social work is in its entire

discrediting of any naive individualism and its indication that man

being an animal that lives not solitary but in groups some form and

degree of interdependence is, for him, in the first order of nature.

The interests and inclinations corollary to that interdependence are

inescapable for him.

If this is the case objection to the social work we have defined could

not be “on principle” but must be to special forms of service on

specific grounds of inexpediency or because of the manner or quality

of the service. Although it is the manner and quality of service which

make the social work of any given time and place what it is they

are nevertheless incidentals entirely separable from its nature and

principles. Objections are brought on specific grounds of expediency

by those who claim that social work does too much and these objections

will be considered in their turn. Objection is also made to the manner

and quality of the social workers’ services and it is this objection

which really animates the charge against the altruism of social work.

This study is an analysis of the nature and functions, not the

performance of social work. It must, however, consider a general

objection to the nature and quality of the social workers’ services

which so often passes for an objection to social work itself.

This vague distrust of social work which we have just been considering,

this dislike of it as something sentimental or undemocratic, is really

a dislike of these incidentals which social work has a perfect right to

disclaim if it can. It is a moral and aesthetic repulsion, an aversion

for the sort of thing which social work sometimes seems to be.

It is social case work that is most open not only to misunderstanding

but to abuse. In it social work is especially liable to the defects of

its qualities. People who take for granted the social work that is done

in connection with the courts, the schools, institutions dealing with

defectives and in many other connections without troubling to consider

what it is they are accepting and even relying upon, will, because of

what they think social case work to be, pour scorn upon “uplifters” and

social workers generally.

The social case workers’ professional contribution to a situation

consists in doing whatever she does in conscious relation to a

general situation, in the ease of her contacts and the range of her

resources.[65] There is no limit to the knowledge of a situation

which it may be useful for her to have. A speaker addressing the

first students in the New York School of Philanthropy is on record as

referring to “investigation” as a necessary evil which must be bravely

faced and telling them they must always make it plain that “the person

in distress has asked you to help him and that you _mean_ to help

him, to help his soul and not only to feed his miserable body, and

that you cannot help him unless you do _know all about_ him.”[66] Of

course that is to give an ell when an inch is asked for--and an ell

of very different stuff. The statement was made twenty-five years ago

and is not given here as typical either of this time or that, but

as an instance of the sort of thing which is said and passed on and

resented, all in good faith. Obviously the more the case worker knows,

provided she can understand it, the better she can do her work. But

because of the very real requirement to employ trained workers and the

rapid expansion of the profession young people are employed as fast

as the schools will grind them out. And when social work lets loose

on difficult situations people disqualified for dealing with them

by their youth or inexperience or native incapacity or all three it

must expect its reputation to suffer. But, taken at the best, there

is great presumption in the attempt of one mortal life to analyze and

prescribe for the totality of another. A too nice matching up of the

inferential motive with the act to be accounted for, a too meticulous

testing for the qualities presumed necessary for a certain degree of

self direction, entail a veritable invasion of one life by another.

It is hard for the analytical to remember that any explanation, no

matter how true and inclusive, is only one thread drawn from a web. The

generalizations which we can make after taking cognizance of a certain

number of instances are just as much and as little applicable to any

given life as the probability tables of an insurance company. They are

illuminating as guides to general expectation but will not closely

correspond to any particular case. There cannot be any authoritative,

objective determination of the proper elements and relationships of

life, and any attempt to arrange for the life of another as a whole is

profane. The clearest sighted come often enough into unlit passages of

their own destiny where they must grope forward in bewilderment and a

kind of awed respect for things which could go unsuspected and yet all

along be “nearer to them than breathing, closer than hands and feet.”

Who then shall interpret another?

Yet life must be met with a certain hardihood. For the conspicuously

defective we know that self direction is impossible, and for the

intolerably troublesome we accept coercion, but in the case of

the merely dependent there are delicate lines to be drawn. Social

work knows perfectly well that it is possible to degenerate into

“substituting one neurosis for another.” Hamlet, thrusting on the

bewildered courtier the flute which that courtier could not play, spoke

for many an inarticulate protestor, “Why, look you now, how unworthy a

thing you make of me! You would play upon me you would seem to know my

stops; you would pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me

from my lowest note to the top of my compass: and there is much music,

excellent voice in this little organ; yet cannot you make it speak.

’sblood do you think I am easier to be played on than a pipe?”[67]

Lincoln is credited with the observation that the Lord never made the

man who was good enough to have power over another man and, by its

option of giving or withholding benefits, social work undoubtedly holds

its beneficiaries very much in its power, not to mention the cases in

which it has actual guardianship, legal or otherwise. A German social

worker accustomed to the strict German notions of regulation could yet

say after a study of American social work, “an individual is never

so absolutely at the mercy of an administration as when he is the

beneficiary of a relief system.”[68] It is the social worker who is

the champion of individual rights all down the line from insisting on

discrimination among the men referred to en masse as “the criminal” to

rescuing orphan children from the uniformity of plaid dresses all of a

length. But who shall rescue the beneficiaries of social work?

Is it any wonder that people sometimes shudder at what social workers

take upon themselves? But these are only the risks incident to great

opportunity. If some social workers run a policy into the ground, if

they have neither imagination, reverence or a sense of humor, that is

the fault of human nature and not the fault of social work. There are

doctors who prescribe for cases they do not understand and fail to save

the patients, there are dishonest and even addle-headed lawyers who

defeat justice, and there are ministers of religion who are hypocrites,

but their existence does not utterly discredit their professions. The

quotations from the national conference and elsewhere must have made it

clear that this sort of personal imposition and finessing in control

are, if nothing else, too poor game to attract the main energies of

social work. These have large issues to absorb them and the effect of

the scientific methods and scientific knowledge which our definition

makes essential is to encourage a robust interest in things clearly

knowable and an attitude attentive and curious rather than dictatorial

and inquisitive. Social work being the lineal descendant of charity

has the family weaknesses and, perhaps even beyond its deserts, the

family reputation. But the one question for anyone willing to do it

justice is whether these weaknesses are characteristic of its present

phase or fading hang-overs from the charity undisciplined by science.

The records of past munificence with their evidence of interest in

giving as a means of grace for the giver, of indifference regarding the

supposed beneficiaries, of wholesale prescriptions of what is proper

for “the poor,” of breaking up of families, imposition of uniform

labor and total disregard of private claims must be either unknown

or forgotten by people who think a decay of neighborly respect and

an inclination to regiment the dependent have been produced by the

innovations of scientific social work.

So far we have been trying to get at and answer the rather vague

charges of those who think social work unworthily employed. Clearer

indictments are brought by the three groups who want us to turn from

the defeated and let them go under. The least extreme of these simply

points out that life unfolds in terms of alternatives and the time,

the skill, the substance and interest lavished by social work on the

incompetent might have given opportunity to baulked ability. Of course

incompetence and ability are relative matters and some forms of social

work could make out a case for themselves as engaged on the task these

critics would prefer, but it is easy to see the general bearing of

this criticism and by our definition social work is committed to the

very concern for the disadvantaged with which they charge it. But the

definition also stipulated for the use of scientific knowledge and

methods and once you have social work and social science playing into

one another’s hands you can answer even the baldest utilitarians on

their own grounds. The effort to help where help is most needed has

been to the social work of our definition a road to prevention of

abuses which affect competent and incompetent alike, a means to better

understanding and control of our social organization. In social as in

other forms of science the normal is often only to be understood after

observation of the abnormal. Moreover, the really imperative services

of social work are evidently forgotten by these critics as well as

by the second group who would say hands off to social work. These

imperative services can be indicated for both groups at once.

This second group are opposed to social work, not as a mere waste

of means which might be better employed, but as an actual menace.

They think it thwarts the action of the salutary principle of nature

by which the “fittest” survive their less “fit” brethren. The tacit

assumption behind this view is that if all social work were suspended

tomorrow, vigor and capacity would have pre-eminent survival value and

the unfit would be eliminated and the race purged of an undesirable

inheritance strain.

The race is to the swift and the battle to the strong, but in modern

life, even where there is no social work, the defeated are not forced

clear off the stage with any degree of promptitude. Complete dismissal

comes only by the arrow that flieth by noonday or the pestilence that

walketh in darkness and our modern versions of these strike the weak

and the strong in a ratio which it would be hard to compute. War and

industrial accidents take not the worst but the best and some of our

most destructive diseases take, fairly indiscriminately, any who are

exposed to them or their predisposing conditions. Meanwhile, what is

there to extinguish the unfit? Though in a sense defeated they continue

to live on and they leave progeny. Even without social work they

would not starve or freeze to death in numbers sufficient to have the

minutest effect upon the quality of the race.

The man of sub-normal intelligence, of bad nervous organization, of

specific defect even, can, in most modern communities keep alive by

his own efforts. He will drag on, abysmally incompetent, indolent,

badly behaved or ill. He may irregularly rent a shelter which other men

would refuse, he will inevitably do his little bit to demoralize the

labor market and the work he from time to time takes up and he may,

for one reason or another, go for awhile to prison. His demands on the

almshouse we will omit as it would probably in this connection count as

social work. He can do our work badly, put the cost of his keep on the

community if he goes to prison, make our pockets or our persons unsafe,

if he happens to be that way inclined, spread disease and even, for a

consideration, vote. What is to be gained by leaving this poor creature

to his own devices and the haphazard propagation of his species? From

a biological point of view, nothing at all, and his running amuck is

a nuisance and a menace. What could social work do? From a biological

point of view, also nothing. If indeed the man were so far defective

that it could confine him to an institution it might in that way

prevent his leaving a family but this simple precaution the biological

critics would probably arrange for through some other agency. But

social work might greatly limit his troublesomeness.

One can only conclude that those who advocate leaving the unfit to

their own destruction do not know, as social work knows, how slow that

destruction is going to be, how costly and troublesome to the community

in which it is taking place, how many people may be, first and last,

involved in it and, above all, how little likely it is to culminate

before the unfit man has left children to succeed him.

Such glaring cases of unfitness are however not typical of the

sort with which social work most often deals. More typical is such

mild cherishing of unfitness as the securing of eye-glasses for a

nearsighted child. Would it do any good to leave him without glasses,

unable to see the blackboard at school, considered a blockhead, unhappy

and defiant and growing up at odds with the world? He would be no whit

less likely to have a family of shortsighted children.

Since the relative security of civilized life allows the unfit, left to

their own devices, to live long enough to demoralize their community

and perpetuate their strain, a humane guardianship supplied by social

work, with an eye to prevention and all the possibilities of the social

situation, is simply the safeguarding of a group in which spontaneous

elimination has ceased to be sufficiently expeditious for the public

safety.

The last of those who would say “hands off” believe that the needs to

which social work at present ministers are chargeable to a few major

abuses in our economic system which could and would be removed by

swift revolutionary measures were it not for false hopes of gradual

reform--hopes which social work helps to keep alive. They think that if

the distress caused by “the present system” were left unrelieved people

would be shocked into summary abolition of the system. The chances of

concerted action on any such program are so infinitesimal that it is

difficult to regard such a proposal as anything but a mere “talking

point” of propaganda. The abuses of the “present system” are too

hideously great for us to risk any momentary discontinuance of their

relief without a very certain guarantee of the desired results.

And when it comes to that we can but remember that the blackest nights

of human oppression have not led to the brightest mornings of human

brotherhood, though there has been many a fine gesture of uprising.

What Mr. Wells remarks in his “Outline of History” apropos of the

results of the French Revolution seems to be true of any attempt to

emancipate life at a blow. “When these things of the ancient regime had

vanished, it seemed as if they had never mattered. * * * the immense

promise and air of a new world with which the Revolution had come

remained unfulfilled.

“Yet, after all, this wave of revolution had realized nearly everything

that had been clearly thought out before it. It was not failing for

want of impetus but for want of finished ideas. Many things that had

oppressed mankind were swept away forever. Now that they were swept

away it became apparent how unprepared men were for the creative

opportunities this clearance gave them. And periods of revolution are

periods of action; in them men reap the harvest of ideas that have

grown during phases of interlude, and they leave the fields cleared

for a season of new growth, but they cannot suddenly produce ripened

new ideas to meet an unanticipated riddle.”[69] Despite the years of

thinking that have elapsed since 1789, the Russian revolution finds

itself in the same case. The present party that has attempted its clean

sweep of previous organization is rich in coherence and intention but

not in organization and expedients.

Much of what social work is now doing is developing expedients of

social practice equally applicable and equally necessary under any

form of government. The question of whether social work as such

should occupy itself with the development of such expedients or

with revolutionary projects belongs not with the discussion of its

overdoing, but of its doing too little. The advocates of revolution say

“hands off” but they really despise social work for temporizing.

To those who charge it with temporizing, the third and last group of

its critics, social work listens very gravely. They touch it where

its conscience is tender. The first group, those who charge it with

unworthy patronage and intrusion do not touch its principle at all.

It knows better than any one else the sort of thing that may easily

be done in its name, knows that its recruits are unregenerate human

beings who will have to learn to put aside personal for scientific

curiosity and resist their enormous temptations to tyrannize. It knows

that the things for which that first group condemns it are things

which will always continue to menace it but things which, on the

whole, it is growing away from. The second group, those who charge it

with interfering with natural selection and wasting opportunity on

lame ducks do not shake its conviction. It knows perfectly well that

not social work but the abundance of mere food and shelter and the

ingrained sympathy or solidarity, or what you will, of civilized man

is what prevents the elimination of the unfit and that these unfit can

only be made innocuous and self-supporting by methods and arrangements

worked out by the intelligence of the especially fit.

But when this third group tell social work that it is not extending

benefits but in the long run delaying their extension, when they tell

it that there is a dragon “privilege” which can grow new heads of

offence faster than it can cut them off, when they say that social work

must be either utterly entangled in its own red tape or corrupted by

the flesh pots of Egypt not to see that it is simply compounding with

the mammon of unrighteousness to allow the continuance of privilege

and abuse, then indeed social work itself is troubled. It has known

all along that those are wrong who say it is a mistake to serve the

disadvantaged, but to be told that it--social work--is not serving

them, that is a very different matter. The charges are two, first that

it is selfish and pharisaical, and second that it is practically bought

for the defense of privilege. The first complain of

“The organized charity scrimped and iced

In the name of a cautious statistical Christ.”[70]

Social work is confessed by the definition, to be “cautious” and

“statistical.” Used in this opprobrious sense the words make a reproach

that could scarcely be more bitter, but who would want a doctor to pour

out without stint the strichnia needed by his patient’s heart? The

development of methods, standards and technique has been referred to

in these pages as matter only for congratulation. But obviously these

have their dangers like everything else. Our childish humanity has been

tempted, from the days of the medicine man on, rather to claim the

confidence of a gullible public by the impressiveness of its ceremonies

than arduously to achieve that confidence by the excellence of its

performance. The temptation to aim at an impression is especially

strong in the case of social work because it often does for people

the sort of things that friends are at the same time sporadically

attempting. When with every intention of producing efficiency social

work tries to establish “standards” it again has to risk the shift of

emphasis from the work to the technical measurement and the resulting

tendency to attempt what can be put through in good form instead of

what most needs to be done.

But the greatest resentment is probably not caused by these lapses,

which social workers themselves know better than outsiders. “Organized

charity” did not, as it is so easy for those who know only the present

to assume, originate suspicious scrutiny. Charity was “cautious” in

the sense of the bitter couplet long before the present organized

charity movement. The fierce old English poor law took no chances

on “impostors”[71] and the dread of them by the private charities

of the continent in the sixteenth century has already been referred

to in these pages. It is, of course, easy to see the necessity for

“investigation” when charity is on a large scale. But it is easier

to resent for oneself, or one’s friends, the mortification of being

suspect; and to many people “organized charity” has never meant

anything more than an attempt to prevent overlapping and imposture.

But in the scientific charity movement precaution soon sank into

insignificance beside the more positive purpose of learning enough

about a situation to tackle it intelligently. This is a trifle harder

to understand and even easier to resent. When we want help we usually

have a pretty definite notion of just what help we need, we are in a

touchy mood to begin with, and unless we are very nice people indeed

we resent any questioning of our preference. It is a matter of common

knowledge that those who do not appreciate the difficulty of the

doctor’s task and the time required for cures drift from one dispensary

to another and try physician after physician in search of one who will

treat their troubles as they think they should be treated and give

them the relief for which suffering dares not cease to hope. What

wonder if a yet greater dissatisfaction is felt with the deliberateness

of the social worker. And if, as we have said in the definition, he

is to proceed by “scientific” methods he must be as “cautious” and

“statistical” as the doctor.

But granting the need of caution in procedure it is shocking and

repellant, on the face of it, that this organized charity should make

the throbbing woes of a fellow creature the subject of dehumanized

records. It is bad enough that people should be required to strip

their predicament bare, exhibit all their helplessness and violate

reticence to expound whatever can “throw light on the situation”--but

why must it be recorded? But it is shocking enough to learn that

someone we care for is known as a certain sort of case in a hospital

and yet we have now so far appreciated medical exigencies as to accept

it as a necessity. In other matters also we may come to realize that

there is no impertinence in impersonal treatment for purposes of

serviceable classification, and for all classification the prerequisite

is records.

A final source of misunderstanding is the double nature of the social

worker’s task. Not only in relief work but in other lines as well he

is not free to do as he would, he cannot always command the means.

He can decide what he thinks would best be done but then he has to

consider what sort of approximation to that best the resources of his

association or community allow. The Webbs, in outlining a proposed

reorganization of the English relief system, say that “Nothing has

contributed so much to make the visits of the Poor Law Relieving

Officer odious as the _mixture_ of his inquiries--as to the sickness

of the person who is ill, or the lunacy of the person of unsound mind,

and at the same time, as to the means of the family and as to what

relations could be made to contribute.”[72] This stewardship for public

or contributed funds and for doing things quite irrelevant to any

intention of social work do more than anything else to make it seem

“scrimped.”

Social work, then, may take heart of grace. It is, once again, being

condemned chiefly on misunderstanding and for the rest on its mere

shortcomings. All human undertakings must expect that and try to amend

and carry on.

It may summon its courage and meet the last charge, the one that seems

to make it most uncomfortable, a charge that not only says it bails

the sea with a sieve and locks the door when the horse is out of the

stable, but goes farther and ascribes motives--“the social worker is

called an apologist for the status quo; he is called a little brother

of the rich; he is accused of taking tainted money;”[73]--and why?

Because social work continues in what its critics consider “remedial”

work instead of addressing itself to wholesale and summary prevention.

Whose fault is that? Let any one who blames it on social work turn to

the reports of the national conference. Let him turn to the “Survey.”

He will find no lack of interest in prevention. The fact is that social

work is paid for by voluntary subscriptions, philanthropic foundations,

and state appropriations. So far all these sources of support, the

potential representatives of the people in the legislature no less than

wealthy donors, are more accessible to an appeal for relief of existing

misery than to an appeal for the prevention of possible catastrophes.

This ties the hands of social work even in the simple matters in which

it might alone do more “preventive work.” But social work cannot alone,

in any but a secondary sense, prevent the situations it is called upon

to relieve. It works prevention as hard as it can and puts it up to

the community in plain terms, but the situations which, at our present

stage of progress, largely occupy its services could only be prevented

by a living wage and regular employment, work that would not poison or

exhaust the worker, sanitary and decent housing, clean milk, and so on

through the list of those simple requisites of a civilized life which

are now inaccessible to a large part of our population. Social work

cannot give employers the will or the ability to pay a living wage; it

cannot provide the masses with decent housing and unadulterated food

nor, all at once, with a corresponding standard and habit of living.

And if it should stop all it is doing now, in order to devote itself

to prevention, neglected children would grow up unhealthy and vicious,

the feeble-minded would multiply and every calamity of today become a

fruitful source of multiplied disaster tomorrow. One might as well ask

that all physicians cease treating from day to day the many diseases

that afflict us, the better to devote themselves to a wholesale

campaign of prevention. The social work of our definition has its own

specific work to do from day to day. It must, like medicine, care for

the handicapped in each generation and prevent the spread of contagion

while it uses the margin of its energies for prevention and progress.

Social work _as we have described it_, is not synonymous with

social reform. It has no more responsibility for reform on “general

principles” than has any other profession or calling. That it should

ever be thought to have is a tribute to its thoroughness and convincing

proof of its devotion to prevention.

We are told, as though to settle the case against social work, that

there are even social workers “who, while they may not say it publicly,

do not hesitate to say privately that they regard social work as a mere

“palliative,” and while they get their living from it, their real

hopes are pinned to the coming social revolution.”[74] The personal

immorality of anyone who would continue to get a living from a calling

he believed to be sailing under false colors is not our business, but,

if social work is what our definition says, there is no reason why

any social worker need hesitate to say, either privately or with all

the publicity he can command, that his hopes are pinned to the coming

social revolution, or to the effects of New Thought or the Seventh Day

Advent or anything else to which he may have happened, according to his

lights and temperament, to have pinned them.

Social work attempts to serve persons in need of help; it shepherds the

rear of the social procession; it cares for the casualties; it also

claims opportunity for the unprivileged and asserts the rights of the

individual lost in the mass. In so doing it finds itself effecting

progress in the many ways already discussed. They are usually indirect

ways. These critics assume that it could induce progress directly by an

attempt to bring about radical social changes that would do away with

the need for its services. They quote against it Tolstoy’s indictment

of our social system--“The present position we, the educated and

well-to-do classes, occupy is that of the Old Man of the Sea, riding on

the poor man’s back, only, unlike the Old Man of the Sea, we are sorry

for the poor man, very sorry. And we will do almost anything for the

poor man’s relief; we will not only supply him with food sufficient for

him to keep on his legs, but will provide him with cooling draughts

concocted on strictly scientific principles; we will teach and instruct

him and point out to him the beauties of the landscape; we will

discourse sweet music to him and give him lots of good advice. Yes we

will do almost anything for the poor man, anything but get off his

back.”[75]

Such a picture makes everyone unhappy to reflect on and in face of it

thoughtful social workers take stock of their position. But they can

only conclude that to accuse social work per se of insincerity and

temporizing, of clinging to a snug berth, because it does not attempt

to end this intolerable situation by revolution is to imagine it both

greater and less than it is. We have already seen that it is only a

calling like others with a day’s work of its own. Reforms merely free

it from old duties and open the gates to new ones and there is no

reason to suppose that changes the most radical would do away with the

need of it or the human impulse that perpetually recreates it. Whether

revolutionary methods would free us from present abuses and confront

us with a new set but, as it were, upon a higher level, is, of course

an open question and a relevant one. But it is a question of pure

expediency facing the social worker of each generation as it faces

anyone else and it in no way involves the integrity or the permanency

of the function of social work.

The alternatives in the interest of which social work is by these

critics condemned are the labor movement and social revolution. But

these are hardly genuine alternatives. Both of them have the allegiance

of people in many callings, but each provides a day’s work to a

comparatively small number of organizers and other workers. There is no

logical reason why a social worker should not be active in the service

of either or both and yet remain in his calling, as the bricklayer,

lawyer, or laborer may.

The labor movement and social revolution and social work are three

things of three entirely different kinds. The labor movement is a tide

in human affairs. It is the projection in practical issues of certain

interpretations and ideals of life. Social revolution is a cataclysmic

expedient for precipitating, in finished form, readjustments which

the labor movement and certain other influences tend gradually and

adaptively to effect. The one is a great movement now under way, the

other a vast enterprise or a vast dream. For them is spilt the martyr

blood that is the seed of every church militant. They throw down a

gauntlet; they raise a banner; they stir our hearts. But why not let

the social worker also plod on with a good conscience and a hope for

his labors.

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,

Seem here no painful inch to gain,

Far back through creeks and inlets making,

Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

When daylight comes, comes in the light;

In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly.

But westward, look! the land is bright.[76]

Social work is a group of callings representing a certain function

of civilized society whatever form that society may take. Its nearest

analogy is educational work. Whatever form society may assume education

seems likely to retain the functions of rendering available the

experience and conclusions of the past and developing the capacities

of each generation as it comes on. Similarly we can ascribe to social

work, under whatever system of society it may be conducted, the

functions of completing inadequacy, extending benefits and rescuing

the individual from the category. In a community where no one was

poor or out of work, where abundance of pure food and decent housing

were available for all, where wholesome recreation was attainable

and attractive, and physical and mental hygiene as much a matter of

course as school attendance, the tasks of the social worker would not

be what they are now; they would be changed beyond our imagining.

But they might still be present. In some distant sunny noonday of a

healthy happy world it may even be possible that the supernormal will

need rescue from victimizing by the mass. Even today social work is

concerned for the superior child handicapped by a public school routine

that forces him to keep step with the average and the dull.

What is overlooked by those who fail to see this permanency in social

work is that it has a day’s work of its own. Since its object is

personal service, it tends to focus in the present and since that

personal service is primarily the relief of need, it is relative to the

standard of the times. “Radicalism is not an absolute but a relative

school of thought. It stands for the things that the government is not

ready to do. Hence it is that no government is really radical.”[77]

Social work is radical in the sense that it proffers services that have

not yet become duties. It is by the same token that it is also relative

and will, despite changes in social organization, continue to relieve

new needs, to extend new benefits and to rescue individuals from

newly-felt forms of regimentation.

That social work, as a calling, does not make itself tributary to any

one social philosophy casts no suspicion on its integrity. Nor is

it strange that the majority of social workers individually should

continue to hold, on the subject of revolution, the opinions of the

majority of their fellow citizens. That social workers should become

so much interested in their own methods of relief as to forget the

prime object of all their system, that they should become so devoted

to the success of particular undertakings as to be unobservant of

other and perhaps better attempts to relieve needs is a reproach to

the guilty persons but it no more touches the principles and functions

of social work than similar faults of practitioners in other lines

condition the presumptive functions of their respective callings. Were

this a discussion of social work in practice it would be necessary

to consider the degree to which its practitioners have realized its

possibilities. But a study of the nature and functions of social work

such as this purports to be would lose itself in confusion in any

attempt to determine precisely how far instances have run true to type.

The teaching offered by the schools and the interests reflected in the

National Conference prove beyond a doubt the direction of its main

stream.

The charge we have just been discussing is the last of the major

accusations commonly brought against social work, and the definition we

have been using has now been shown to describe a social work that can

meet its critics squarely and retain a claim to a function of its own

in social economy and a certain character and integrity.

It is one of those human activities which are pursued, as we say, for

their own sake. It can be justified on utilitarian grounds but the

justification never amounts to more than permission to follow our

inclination untroubled. Yet, unlike other such activities, unlike

recreation, art and learning, it does not reach out to life at its

happiest and most conscious, its fullest and finest, but seeks, “Rather

the scorned--the rejected--the men hemmed in by the spears.” Social

work lifts burdens, fills needs, extends benefits.

“Not the ruler for me, but the ranker, the tramp of the road,

The slave with the sack on his shoulder, pricked on with the goad,

The man with too weighty a burden, too weary a load.

* * * * *

Others may sing of the wine and the wealth and the mirth,

The portly presence of potentates goodly in girth;

Mine be the dirt and the dross, the dust and scum of the earth.”[78]

Social work is interested in all people that need help and classifies

them according to their needs, with no ulterior interest. It tries to

serve them in their individual capacity as human beings with lives of

their own. It is always extending benefits in excess of any recognized

obligation. These we have heretofore said were the habits of charity,

using the word in a broad and primitive sense. When charity adopted a

scientific method and took to studying the social sciences for light on

its problems social work began. Although it has been necessary to refer

to charity often and at length in establishing the nature of social

work, it is not well to dwell on it in general discussion, because,

first, it has lately been applied only to the relief of poverty and

cannot be used in a wider sense without explanation and, secondly,

through centuries of association with an idea of meritorious liberality

towards persons inferior, it has acquired connotations which do not

belong to social work.

Social work as we now have it makes use of modern science. From the

social sciences it takes perspective, generalization and knowledge of

the complication of influences responsible for any given situation. By

statistical methods it relates cause and effect. The discovery of such

a relationship always emphasizes causes and in consequence social work

extends its protective function in the direction of prevention. By so

doing it becomes not only a minister to misery but also one of the

forces operating to make the world a better dwelling place for all of

its inhabitants.

Social work because it is tentative and experimental seems to be

imperfectly developed and still on trial. There is a temptation

to anticipate for it more certainty, more obvious consistency and

more clearly formulated purposes when it shall have become better

established. But any such anticipation fails to take account of its

wholly relative nature. Social work is always feeling its way beyond

clearly formulated obligations, ignoring imposed consistencies and

groping in unexplored regions where sure-footedness is not possible.

Social work will take many more forms and all of them will prove

temporary.

This makes social work hard to compare with the established professions

with the ministrations of which its services have many points in

common, with medicine for example. Although several sciences are

helpful to social work it specializes in the application of no one of

them. It is only in the very loosest sense applied sociology and might

with almost equal suggestiveness be called applied eugenics or social

psychology or any one of half a dozen other things. Conversely its

observations and experiences are valuable to a dozen arts and sciences

but build no science of their own. Nor does it build any systematically

cumulative body of principles exclusively for its own use, as does

the law. This is no disgrace to social work, which may be equally

respectable with the well established professions and yet quite _sui

generis_. But it operates in indirect ways as a handicap.

It is a familiar observation that any new science, any new departure

in human knowledge must use the vocabulary already available and so

can only receive its first formulation in terms of things that have

gone before. The failure of social work to produce any compact body of

doctrine pertaining to its range of undertakings has kept it long in

the stage of analogy and tutelage. It evidently feels a temptation to

shape itself after the fashion of the best respected types of human

activity instead of simply envisaging its own objects as clearly as

possible and enlisting every available means to attain them.

Its essential inability to develop any compact body of doctrine may

also be handicapping it in a more fundamental way. It is said that

social work does not get its proportionate share of the best students

taking professional training. May not this be because a course which

offers an acquaintance with the high lights of half a dozen subjects

and mastery of none is not likely to recommend itself to able students

as promising to lead to dignified and responsible work? Social work

can only hope that when more time and more ability have gone into the

development of its separate fields such discipline may be developed

along special lines as will give it better intellectual status and

the power to attract and hold recruits by something beside that

appeal to their imagination or their humanity exerted by its general

possibilities. “I treat philanthropy seriously,” wrote one of its

historians, “because of what it implies; its professors have commonly

not been very efficacious.”[79] But scientific social work is something

more than philanthropy and its history is yet to be made.

Whatever is in store for social work it is pre-ordained that its

functions can only persist by adaptive variation of its practices,

that it will never be perfected, never be satisfied, never even, in

any final and completed sense, successful. Its object is to correct

the mistakes of nature and man in the making of human lives and its

undertakings grow with our hopes for life. Such presumption can never

succeed, but its mere instalments of success would be triumphs in a

lesser enterprise. For social work each new triumph opens only a new

range of possibilities. It might well take as its motto the proud words

of Masefield, “Success is the brand on the forehead for having aimed

too low.”[80]

FOOTNOTES:

[61] Philanthropy and the State, p. 303.

[62] John Stuart Mill, Principles of Political Economy, p. 577.

[63] Ibid., p. 575.

[64] William McDougal, An Introduction to Social Psychology, p. 14, et

seq.

[65] Porter R. Lee, at the National Conference of Social Work, 1920, p.

468.

[66] Charities Review, 1898, p. 9.

[67] Hamlet, Act III, Sc. 2, line 379.

[68] Emil Muensterberg, Impressions of American Charity, in Charity and

the Commons, 1907, p. 268.

[69] H. G. Wells, The Outline of History, Vol. II, p. 339.

[70] John Boyle O’Reilly, In Bohemia, quoted in The Cry for Justice, p.

497.

[71] S. A. Queen, Social Work in the Light of History, Chap. II.

[72] Sidney and Beatrice Webb, The Prevention of Destitution, p. 281.

[73] Arthur J. Todd, at the National Conference, 1920, p. 271.

[74] Charles A. Ellwood, at the National Conference, 1920, p. 271.

[75] Count Leo Tolstoy, quoted in The Cry for Justice, p. 88.

[76] Arthur Hugh Clough, “Say not the struggle nought availeth,” in

Poems.

[77] Frank Parsons, Legal Doctrine and Social Progress, p. 212.

[78] John Masefield, A Consecration, in Poems.

[79] Philanthropy and the State, p. 20.

[80] John Masefield, Multitude and Solitude.

APPENDIX I

=Edward T. Devine in “Social Work”= says (p. 21): “Social work, then

is the sum of all the efforts made by society to ‘take up its own

slack’ to provide for individuals when its established institutions

fail them, to supplement those established institutions and to

modify them at those points at which they have proved to be badly

adapted to social needs. * * * It may be well done or badly done;

according to the most enlightened system which intelligence and

experience and sympathy and vision can devise or according to the

archaic methods of careless and lazy emotion. * * * It includes

everything which is done by society for the benefit of those who

are not in position to compete on fair terms with their fellows

from whatever motive it may be done, by whatever agency or whatever

means and with whatever results.”

=Edward T. Devine and Lilian Brant in “American Social Work in the

Twentieth Century”= say (the first words of the book): “In the

United States of America ‘social work’ has come into use in recent

years as a comprehensive term, including charity and philanthropy,

public relief, punishment and reformation and all other conscious

efforts, whether by the state or on private initiative, to provide

for the dependent, the sick, and the criminal, to diminish the

amount of poverty, disease, and crime, and to improve general

living and working conditions.”

These statements obviously are not trying to distinguish between

“social work” and the more primitive forms of “charity” and

“philanthropy.”

The pamphlet “=Social Work=,” issued by the American Association

of Social Workers in 1922 disclaims any intention “to give an

authoritative definition of these terms (i.e., charity,

philanthropy, and social service) or of ‘social work,’” but it

does authoritatively indicate that “social work as a profession”

may have occasion to differentiate itself from charity and

philanthropy (pp. 3 and 4). “In discussing social work as a

profession it is necessary to clarify certain conceptions which are

popularly confused with it. As is the case with any activity that

has emerged into professional status and differentiated itself from

the kind of activity in which any one of ordinary intelligence

might participate, social work must live down a variety of names

and conceptions which were common to it in its early and

unprofessional forms.” “So we come to the term ‘social work’ for

a connotation which at least has implicit implications of a process

requiring specialized knowledge and skill sufficient to be called

professional.” “It is well also to point out here that emphasis

must be placed on ‘process’ as an aid to keeping in mind the fact

that not what is done, but how it is done, is what constitutes the

test of professional activity.”

=“Education for Social Work,” by Jesse Frederick Steiner= (University

of Chicago Press, 1921) gives, as its first chapter, a five-page

statement of “The Nature of Social Work” which does not lend itself

to quotation otherwise than _in toto_. It reports about the same

conclusions as this thesis, which was prepared before Mr. Steiner’s

study.

=Porter R. Lee= speaking to the National Conference of Social Work

in 1915 (see Report p. 597) described three conceptions of the

social worker. First, “Any person is a social worker if his work

has conscious social purpose, although his vocation may be any one

of the historic forms of human activity. The second conception

includes as social workers those who are engaged in so-called

preventive work, that is to say, those whose efforts are directed

towards social legislation, toward the development of the social

point of view in the general public and toward readjustments in

social institutions and social habits. * * * social work in this

sense is not concerned with those who are disabled by adverse

conditions of life but with the adverse conditions. The third

conception of the social worker on the other hand identifies him

primarily with efforts on behalf of the subnormal. To one holding

this conception the social worker is one who endeavors through case

work to reestablish disabled families and individuals in a routine

of normal life. This does not preclude interest in social

legislation and other forms of preventive work, but these are not

the first task of the social worker. When social work as a generic

term first came into general use leaders in the work for dependent

families, neglected children, the defective, the delinquent and the

destitute sick comprised almost the entire group to which it was

applied.” In the 1920 Conference (see Report p. 466) Mr. Lee said:

“The subject matter of social work is the adjustment of men to

their environment. * * * The necessity for social work arises

because of the difficulties faced by men in making this adjustment.

These difficulties are sometimes in the man and sometimes in the

environment. Some factors in the environment bear too heavily upon

all men, some bear too heavily upon a smaller number. * * * A large

part of social work is conducted with the purpose of softening the

effect of environmental factors which bear with undue severity upon

all men. Another large part of social work aims at the development

of greater resourcefulness in all men in meeting environmental

demands. The greater part of social work, however, is at present

devoted to the development of a higher adjusting power in those

persons who are most handicapped by environment or a modification

of those particular environmental factors which handicap them.”

=Miss Mary E. Richmond in “What is Social Case Work?”= (Russell Sage

Foundation, N.Y., 1922) breaks up what Mr. Lee calls “preventive

work” into three parts (pp. 223, 224). “The other forms of social

work all of which interplay with case work, are three--group work,

social reform, and social research. Case work seeks to effect

better social relations by dealing with individuals one by one or

within the intimate group of the family. But social work also

achieves the same general ends in these other ways. It includes a

wide variety of group activities--settlement work, recreational

work, club, neighborhood and local community work--in which the

individual, though still met face to face, becomes one of a number.

By a method different from that employed in either case or group

work, though with the same end in view, social reform seeks to

improve conditions in the mass, chiefly through social propaganda

and social legislation. Whether the immediate object be better

housing, better working conditions, better use of leisure, or a

long list of other objectives, the main purpose in these different

social reforms still is to advance the development of our human

kind by improving social relations. Finally, social research with

its precious freight of original discovery in all the fields

covered by social work, has also the secondary task of assembling

known facts in order to reinterpret them for use in social reform,

in group work and in case work.”

A fair amount of searching has failed to reveal many statements which

do as much as the above toward defining social work in succinct

and specific terms. One finds instead descriptions which, while

satisfactory enough for the purposes for which each was intended,

ascribe to it no really distinctive character but rather present it

in generalizations equally true of other disinterested undertakings,

or by making it synonymous with applied sociology or applied religion

simply throw the burden of definition onto those other terms leaving

the matter as indefinite as before.

APPENDIX II

A

A list of the schools belonging (in 1921) to the “Association of

Training Schools for Professional Social Workers,” organized 1919,

President. Prof. J. E. Cutler, Western Reserve University.

Boston School of Social Work, Boston.

Carola Woerishoffer Graduate Department of Social Economy and Social

Research, Bryn Mawr College.

College of Commerce and Journalism, Ohio State University.

Department of Social Work, Carnegie Institute of Technology.

Department of Social Work, University of Toronto.

Missouri School of Social Economy, St. Louis (part of the University

of Missouri).

New York School of Social Work, New York.

Pennsylvania School of Social and Health Work, Philadelphia.

Philanthropic Service Division, School of Commerce and Administration,

University of Chicago.

School of Applied Social Science, Western Reserve University.

School of Public Welfare, University of North Carolina.

School of Social Work and Public Health, Richmond, Va.

Smith College Training School for Social Work, Smith College.

Training Course in Civics and Social Work, University of Pittsburgh.

Training Course for Social and Civic Work, University of Minnesota.

B

The number of schools which make a separate department of each of the

seventeen subjects referred to in the text (not the number of courses

in these subjects) is as follows. The list is somewhat misleading in

appearance as it gives prominence to the subjects most often treated

_separately_ rather than to those most often or most fully treated. As

a matter of fact separate treatment sometimes means the somewhat casual

addition of a subject after the central interests of the program have

been pretty well integrated.

Industrial work, including industrial supervision and

employment; personnel work, service departments and nursing 10

Community work or service, or organization 9

Medical social work 8

Child welfare 8

Social research and investigation 7

Social case work, social relief and social guardianship 5

Family welfare work 5

Mental hygiene and psychiatric social work 5

Community organization and recreation, physical education and

recreation 4

Penology or delinquency or criminality 4

Settlement work, educational and vocational guidance.

Public health work 2

C

A list of forty subjects taught in the training schools as preparation

for work in specific fields. The figures accompanying the following

list of subjects do not indicate the number of courses in the subject

but the number of schools in which the subject is taught.

Public health 12

Psychiatric social work 7

Mental testing 6

Medical social work 6

Abnormal psychology 4

Personal hygiene and first aid 1

Social hygiene 1

Community organization 13

Recreation and special means of recreation 10

Municipal problems 7

Rural social problems 5

Municipal government 2

Neighborhood work 1

Community art 1

Case work 13

Family welfare 4

Industry 14

Child welfare 10

Vocational guidance 2

Education 2

Immigration 6

Race problems 6

Social legislation 6

Elements or special features of law 4

Dependents, defectives and delinquents 4

Penology or criminology 4

Probation 1

Organization and administration of various sorts 8

Political science 2

Social and political philosophy 2

Socialism and social reform 1

The social institution of religion 1

Food and diet 4

Home economics 2

Housing 4

Record keeping and methods of presentation 4

Biology 2

Standard of living, etc. 1

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* * * * *

Transcriber’s note

Minor punctuation errors have been changed and standardized without

notice. The following Printer errors have been changed:

=CHANGED= =FROM= =TO=

Page 8: “their dependants” “their dependents”

Page 9: “eleomosynary purpose” “eleemosynary purpose”

Page 9: “School of _Philanthrophy_” “School of _Philanthropy_”

Page 10: “milleniums of Christianity” “millenniums of Christianity”

Page 12: “examine the public attittude” “examine the public attitude”

Page 14: “found to differ form” “found to differ from”

Page 19: “practicaly all departments” “practically all departments”

Page 19: “the ruin of adolescense” “the ruin of adolescence”

Page 21: “worker has reponsibilities” “worker has responsibilities”

Page 23: “his reptuation and honor” “his reputation and honor”

Page 25: “individually unpredicable” “individually unpredictable”

Page 36: “recognizes an interpendence” “recognizes an

interdependence”

Page 47: “should direct and stimluate” “should direct and stimulate”

Page 50: “can develope in” “can develop in”

Page 50: “which developes only” “which develops only”

Page 53: “of sweeping judgements” “of sweeping judgments”

Page 57: “sheer dependance” “sheer dependence”

Page 57: “form of dependance” “form of dependence”

Page 59: “degree of interdependance” “degree of interdependence”

Page 59: “inclinations corrollary” “inclinations corollary”

Page 63: “dependant have been” “dependent have been”

Page 65: “flieth by noon-day” “flieth by noonday”

Page 70: “caution in proceedure” “caution in procedure”

Page 74: “Tolstoi’s indictment” “Tolstoy’s indictment”

Page 75: “with a good con-conscience” “with a good conscience”

Page 80: “not this be becasue” “not this be because”

Page 89: “Historie de la Charité” “Histoire de la Charité”

Page 89: “fils. Paris” “Fils. Paris”

All other inconsistencies are as in the original.

A definition of social work: A thesis in sociology · 第 6 / 6 章