By Dr. JOHN CLIFFORD, M.A.
An Address to the British Social Democratic Federation on Wednesday, February 22.
The strongest objection I hear brought against the advance of Socialism over the whole field of our industrial life is based on apprehended damage to personal character, real injury to the qualities, forces, and functions of manhood.
It is held that were we to adopt the collective ownership of the means of production and distribution so as to secure, first, a fixed quantity of work day by day from each citizen for the common good, and, secondly, provide a maintenance for that working citizen sufficient to preclude anxiety and foster reasonable content, we should delete life of its keenest interests, blot out its brightness, eliminate its fascinating variety, and render human existence anæmic, tame, jejune, "flat, stale, and unprofitable" beyond all endurance. Get rid of competitive struggle, and as you succeed you dwarf your men. Carry your democratic principles into industry and "life" will be less " worth living," and its finest ethical inspirations will be dried up. "Collective industrialism would be the foe of spiritual energy, the death of genius, the extinction of poetry and painting and music. Existence would be fashioned after the characterless stagnation of Thibet, and a man would be nothing more than a labelled or unlabelled cog in the great wheel of society.
It is admitted by these objectors that Socialism is coming. Its advance is inevitable. The ownership and control of the common necessities of life by all and for all increases from year to year. But these signs of change are observed with sincere alarm, and admitted with regret. J S. Mill, Herbert Spencer, Amiel, Schoeffle, Frederic Harrison fear that individuality of character will disappear. The majority will play the tyrant. Public opinion will fix its Proscrustes' bed and compel every citizen, long and short alike, to get into it. Mill says, "The absolute dependence of each on all and surveillance of each by all will grind all down into a tame uniformity of thought, feelings, and actions." The rule of the "general average" will be supreme. Monotony will triumph. The wild and keen interest of the struggle for gold will cease. The fierce fights of competitive nations for markets will end. Aimlessly we shall roam over the dull dead level of utilitarian comfort, and as we find the smug and hollow life of Socialism we shall drop all the nobler ideals of manhood, and luxuriate in the dull comforts of the Collectivists' millennium, whose crowning joy is to lie on a couch and get all we want by touching a button.
THE UPBUILDING OF MEN.
II.—To me this is the most vital phase of the Socialist controversy. The final details of the Collectivist arrangement—the exact amount of work for each citizen and similar points in the Socialist programme—do not fascinate me like its influence in the making of the coming man. I have been in the habit of looking at all questions in their relation to personal character. Manhood outweighs all other forces amongst the factors of human wellbeing, social order, and progress. Emerson says, "The main enterprise of the world for splendour and for extent is the upbuilding of a man," therefore systems and theories, policies and schemes, books and Churches, newspapers and sciences, clubs and States must be tested by this Lydian stone—their actual contribution to the upbuilding of men. If they fail here they have to go. Their doom is certain, if delayed. This is a moral world, and the best manhood and womanhood are destined to leadership and supremacy in the life of men. Rome cannot successfully resist the shock of the invaders. Yet the Goth is not keenly intellectual. He is no master of systems, he is dull at technicalities, his art is rude, he is a barbarian, but he has a fine moral grip, he is master of himself, his life is simple, his partial virtues are sturdy, and his superior manhood wins in the conflict and prepares the way for a new Europe. Economically slavery is productive up to a point—most productive, but it is ruinous to the character of the slave, and therefore its productive values diminish and it is inevitably displaced. The military system and the wage system are doomed for the same reason, and Socialism has not come to stay unless it can satisfactorily face this supreme tribunal and win a favourable verdict.
Agreed; but what do you mean by manhood? All turns on that. Collectivism we know. We are not so sure of the typical man, "the heir of all the ages," the goal of the painful toil and prolonged struggles of the centuries. Personal character is a variable, a most variable, quantity. Still, it is not so fluid that it cannot be fixed sufficiently for the practical purposes of this paper.
Clearly no narrow or poor type will suffice. Our manhood must be full, rounded, comprehensive, manifold, strong, capable, effective. Courage, intellect, aspiration have a physical basis; "the life is more than meat;" but life without meat, or with a scant supply, and that seasoned with injustice, is a very poor thing indeed. The meat is not the man; but a wisely and well-nourished organism, with muscles of iron strength, nerves like whipcord, and energy mounting to every occasion cannot be left out of our account of personal character. The man is a unit and his body is a vital part of his make. Nor should he be dull in thought, vulgar in taste, or narrow in interest; but broad in sympathy and strong in his humanness; rich in gifts and wide in his love of knowledge, science, and art; cautious and yet capable of ardour; "a Christian without asceticism, a Greek without sensuality;" catholic in his interests and intense in his consecration to the truest and best; exulting in freedom, but not degenerating into indifference; with convictions of his own and able to battle for them at all risks; possessed of the health and wealth, the life and strength of personal culture, and yet supremely altruistic.
THE MANHOOD OF COLLECTIVISM.
III.— An advance towards that type of manhood history teaches us to expect as the result of any change; and certainly of the change from our individualistic and competitive industrialism to collectivism. For the next stage in human experience must carry us further from all brutal conditions of life, from the tyranny of the outward and mechanical to the freedom and joy of the inward and spiritual. If "throughout the ages one increasing purpose runs, and the thoughts of men are widened" and heightened "with the process of the suns," the democratising of industry must aid in realising that purpose. If commercialism was an advance on serfdom, bringing a larger life and better opportunities to a larger number, widening their horizon and adding to their freedom from the tyranny of toil, then we are warranted in looking for substantial gains to character in the coming collectivism. Whatever truth there is in the doctrine of the evolution of human society entitles us to expect that the manhood of the twentieth century will have a breadth, a nobility, a greatness, and a happiness exceeding that of all preceding years.The giants may or may not be fewer, but certainly the lofty prayer of Browning will be answered in "the elevation of the race."
BUILT UPON JUSTICE.
IV.—Now we are confronted at the outset with the allegation that collectivism is intrinsically unjust. It fails it is alleged, "to put a legitimate premium on the social worth of individual productive ability, and involves a distinct social wrong of fixing by some arbitrary and collective wisdom the incentives and the rewards of effort, which should be left to the free play and competitions of individual wills."
Thus Dr Newman Smyth, in a book of signal ability, states his "chief objection to the productive programme of social collectivism." Now, as health and vigour are to the physical basis of life, so is justice to the basis of moral life. The edifice of man cannot be enduringly built an any other rock. As the American Senator, Sumner, said after a defeat—'"Nothing is settled till it is settled right." "Justice is the crying want of the world." It is the thing we need first of all and obtain last of all. Dr. Johnson said—"'I have found men more kind than I expected and less just." Ruskin writes—"The mistake of the best men through generation after generation has been that great one of thinking to help the poor by almsgiving . . . and other means emollient or consolatory, except the one thing God orders for them—Justice."
It is easier to be charitable than to be just; to bestow a donation on a hospital than to pay a fair wage to a toiler; to build a cathedral with the profits of a gin distillery than to give up a trade disastrous to society, but filling the coffers of the tradesman; to win fame as a patriot by throwing vitriolic contempt on a scheme than to dispassionately examine it. So that if collectivism is not an advance in justice on the present competitive arrangement it is another delusive scheme added to the pathetic host that raised, only to destroy, the hopes of men.
But what is the legitimate premium on the social worth of individual productive ability? Put Jay Gould in the place of Robinson Crusoe, with his man Friday, and what is the precise value of his "individual productive ability ?" Leave the individual to himself, remove all contributory and co-operative workers, get the "solidarity" out of industrialism, and then tell us what is the exact share —the precise value of each individual's "productive ability." That ability is in the final analysis chiefly the capacity to push the individual cog into the great social wheel, and and get his corn ground in the social mill at society's cost. A man inherits acres of land which subsequently becomes a city. His individual productive ability shows itself in arranging for somebody to gather rents from those who have themselves built their own houses upon the land and in making a will that after a short space of time houses and ground rent both shall come to his successors. So with any material wealth we have. When is it merely individual creation? At what point does it cease to be the common product of society? But if society is always a necessary factor in the production of the results of labour how can it be intrinsically unjust that society should ask to be heard as to the ownership and control of the instruments and results of labour at least so far as the necessaries of life are involved?
Certainly, it must be admitted, collectivism approximates more closely to universal justice than the wage system. That system is or may be legal; it may be it is customary to a large extent, though we rejoice to think the custom is broken by the practice of "co-operation" and frank "profit-sharing " yet it is not equitable. It involves the insecurity of the situation. To the toiler of twenty years in one factory it may be said, "If you do not like it you can go." It fixes no limit as to time. "Others," says the master, "will work fourteen or sixteen hours if you will not." It denies any share in the issues of improved work, or in the perpetuity of the industrial machinery and institutions he has helped to create. The individual capitalist takes the risks of his capital, and has till within recent times gained enormously out of all proportion to his "individual productive ability;" but the toiling victim of the wage system have large deficits standing against their names in the books of eternal justice.
Difficult as is the calculation of individual claims on the basis of strict justice—and I admit the difficulty frankly—yet I contend that collectivism contains the promise of a finer manhood, because it also holds the promise of a wider and surer justice to all parties concerned in industry than the present individualistic system.
IDLENESS THROWN OUT.
V.— Another objection to collectivism is that men will not work if they can help it, and that since collectivism would take away the ordinary incentives to toil it would feed indolence and hasten moral decay.
"The labour of life is life," says Sir Andrew Clark. " Action is education," said Emerson. Work, regular, insistent, is a man building factor. There is no Eden for idleness. Inactivity is the death of progress. Personal character owes much to toil, and even to enforced toil, barring the entrance to many temptations, occupying the vagrant thoughts, curbing the imagination, yoking the restive will, and so developing faculties and forming habits of carefulness, foresight, address, and industry. The vices of men who have a surfeit of riches are more due to want of occupation than to irrepressible evil desire.
No doubt if you take man as you may see him to-day, weakened by the sad heritage of centuries of insanitary conditions, thrust into the fœtid slums of a crowded city, poor in physical fibre, bloodless, nerveless, diseased, associating with men and women wearied and worn out like himself, you will not lack material for proving that man is innately idle, and that the only magnet that will attract him to work is gold, or that will goad him to it is hunger.
But this is not our normal man. To a healthy organism toil is welcome, is as necessary as bread, and as pleasant as the sunshine. Men who are alive to the fingertips seek work and will have it. They are active, over active. We call it mischief. You see it in boys at school, and it is not absent from the bigger boys in the House of Commons. With improved social conditions we may expect to displace the exhausted, sapless, half-dead citizens work is unwelcome, by those who will gladly respond to the call for service and exult in the beneficent exercise of their fresh and vigorous energies.
Certain it is that the need for bread is not the only or chief force that has produced fruitful personalities and noble lives. It was not grinding poverty or kingly tyranny that made Milton sing. Shelley did not write to a loaf. Robert Burns knew something about poverty, but he sang his lovely songs in spite of it, and not because of it. Indeed, where body-hunger has been most acutely and oppressively felt the movements of the inward and higher nature have been the slowest and least fruitful, unless an exception be made for those at the other end of the social scale, who, having great riches, find it a very hard thing indeed to carry themselves and their burden out of the sway of the senses in to the serener kingdoms of truth and right and goodness.
The fact is we have not discovered man yet. Most of us think too little of him. I do not mean that each one thinks too little of himself—that is a rare occurrence; but too little of the race of man, of its possibilities, its hopes, its future. We have discovered a few men. Elect souls have arisen and illumined life by their comprehensive training, skilled judgment, sound taste, real genius, and civic service; but who are these amongst so many? Of the mass, we have imagined that they are dinner eating animals, and little more. But man has many hungers, and as soon as he is free from the clamour of the lower, the higher and worthier may make themselves felt. Deliver him from the incessant and exhausting fight for his hut, and he will toil to make secure his board and his bed. Guarantee the satisfaction of the needs of his body, and his mind is free for the expression of its marvellous energies, and to achievements that will minister to his love of exact thought, of exalted art and spiritual victory, of books and pictures, buildings, and self-sacrificing deeds. The myriads of our race have yet to rise into these truly human regions, and to enjoy this sublimer life, and under the redemptive leadership of the Eternal Father they are ascending to them; therefore, instead of being afraid to humanize the conditions of life and emancipate men from the relentless grip of the taskmaster, we ought to hail to opportunity with delight, assured by the voices of History and Evolution that freedom will not end in universal torpor and final death, but in a quickened and enlarged life for the world.
FREEDOM FOR ALL.
VI.— That leads me to say that collectivism is necessary to crown the edifice of economic freedom which has been riding higher and higher during the last fifty years—thanks to the Factory Acts —the expulsion of cruel methods of work, the action of Trades Unions, and the inculcation of socialistic principles. Freedom is a condition of human development. Man needs to be free to find and use himself. His story is the long struggle for the ownership of himself, of his thought and speech, of his conscience and will, of his economic forces. In a luminous article on "The Limits of Collectivism" William Clarke says :—"Here then is the real limit of collectivism; it is coextensive with the machinery and the lower part of life; it furnishes in a right way the physical basis on which the spiritual structure is to be reared. For the first time in the history of the human race there would be freedom for all. The ancient Eastern monarchies, says Hegel, knew that only one was free ; the states of classical antiquity that some were free; the modern world knows that all are free. The modern world knows this as an idea, the abolition of chattel slavery and of serfdom being a recognition of formal liberty. But only when the people own or control the necessary instruments of production in the large industry will the formal be translated into substantial freedom. The necessity of work in order to live is a decree of Nature, and is no real abridgment of freedom so long as work is certain and not burdensome. And when the necessary mechanical toil is over all will be free to pursue the higher ends of their being. The limit of collectivism will have been overstepped, and the sphere of free individual energy and initiative will have opened itself."
2. Man finding himself would attain a nobler manhood by obtaining an altruistic in exchange for an egoistic ideal. That change is going on now. In our midst and under our eyes there is in process the enthronement of a new motive in human action. It fills the atmosphere. Some few are conscious of its presence and know whence the impulse comes. Thousands are braced by it but are unaware of the source of the moral ozone that lifts them out of the deep grooves of selfish thinking to the sunnier heights of social endeavour. The young are responding to it with the rapidity and energy of youth. "They see visions" and are eager to convert them into realities. Nor are nor elders unmoved at its appearing. "They dream dreams" and are labouring that they may become experiences. The new ideal is in sight. The energies evoked by the selfish goal are diminishing. The conviction is surely taking hold of men, women, and children that each soul is not to live for self, but for all, for the whole of society, for humanity. You and I might differ as to whence it proceeds; but what I insist on is that it is here, producing a higher strain of virtue and constituting a form of moral training analogous to that secured by resistance to a common foe, and preparing us for facing danger and accepting difficulty in the spirit of unselfish devotion to the good of men. Already we say with Lowell—
Our country hath a gospel of her own
To preach and practise before all the world—
The freedom and divinity of man,
The glorious claims of human brotherhood.
Vanderbilt, Carnegie, Jay Gould, and men of that class render a disservice to man of which they are hardly conscious. They poison the atmosphere and they try to invent a "gospel" for distributing the wealth they ought not to have. They infect men with a passion for accumulation, for heaping up riches, filling their pockets with coins, and so quicken the pace with which men hurry to get rich. Greed grows. Speculation is fostered. Men toil from morning to night, consumed by no other ambition than that of amassing wealth. In my youth these "merchant princes," " successful merchants," "commercial Crœsuses," were offered as human nature's daily food. The individualistic outstanding Napoleons, the masters of thousands, were described as they fought at Austerlitz or Jena ; but we never or rarely heard of the peril at Moscow or of the final defeat at Waterloo. All that, I rejoice to think, is changed or changing, and a growing number of men welcome the saying of Plato in the third book of his "Polity"—"Tell them they have Divine gold and silver in their souls for ever ; that they need no money stamped of men, neither may they otherwise than impiously mingle the gathering of the Divine with the mortal treasure, for through that which the law of the multitude has coined endless crimes have been done and suffered; but in theirs is neither pollution nor sorrow."
An Englishman who had spent some time in Australia said to me— What the colonies want, what Australia wants, is a true and human ideal. They are vulgarized by their passion for wealth. Nothing will save them but a pure and unselfish ideal. Collectivism has the promise of this gain by quenching the modern passion for inordinate accumulation, freeing men from the tyranny of things seen and temporal, and opening the gates for the higher culture of the individual and for the fuller service of men.
TYRANNY OF MATTER OVER MIND.
3. Essentially then collectivism is a war against the tyranny of matter over mind. It is a movement on the outward for the sake of the inward. It would end the battle for bread and make the toil for it automatic and natural as breathing, and so set the man free for the fight with ignorance, with inexact thought, with vulgar tastes, with low aims, and with base deals.
I need not say collectivism itself cannot reach the interior life, the æsthetic, the spiritual, the really personal activities of mankind. In his "News from Nowhere" William Morris points one way of escape from the dreaded monotonies of a world freed from the din and struggle of competitive trade as the gate of Art. "The spirit," he says, "of the new days, of our days, was to be delight in the life of this world; intense and almost overweening love of the very skin and surface of the earth on which man dwells." Add to Art the newly acquired domain of science, and measure the vast fields that await the investigation and enjoyment of emancipated man. Ancient as is philosophy, yet large spaces for specialists in clear thinking remain to be filled; whilst science, much sobered and restrained as compared with the vanity and self-assertiveness of twenty years ago, when flushed and excited by the splendour and magnificence of her victories, has the whole world soliciting the physiologist and botanist, the astronomer and chemist, the mineralogist and electrician ; and yet these regions of art and science are only as some small enclosures in a solitary planet compared with the illimitable regions that have yet to be tracked by the religious yearnings and aspirations of mankind.
Do not mistake me. I am not saying that collectivism is a process for the manufacture of saints, I do not expect to extirpate evil by machinery. Moral disease cannot be exorcised by a fiat of the State. Suffering, pain, wrong, and wrongdoing will not disappear as by a magician's wand when the Collectivist has rearranged the business of producing and distributing calico and cloth, food and light.
Man is a mystery. Life is temptation, and will be, then as now, until habits of righteousness and justice are formed and fixed by the free initiative, and worked into character by the persistent obedience—such habits and character as will be a guarantee of permanent goodness. But collectivism would at least give every man a fair chance of leading a cultured life, and set him free from the fetters of poverty and the choking of the mind by excessive mechanical toil. It would give the greatest possible equality at the start for natural talent and industrial virtue; lift men out of the mire of hopelessness, as to mental drill, artistic education, and moral triumph, into which so many of our fellows are thrust now. I know some may, as of old, use their liberty as a cloak for licentiousness ; and others as now, having all that the body craves, may sink into the slough of animalism; but, in my judgement, God is working in humanity to will and to do, so that we may work out our salvation from the base and bestial up to the noble and divine. Symonds says: "The tendency of modern thought is towards a spiritual interpretation of the universe," and I add, of life too; for man is spirit and has a body, and the spirit in him may be trusted to assert itself. Socrates will talk to the young men in the Athenian market-place, and keep at his task till the poison stops his speech. Davy, Faraday, and Darwin will revolutionize thought by discoveries in the world of things, and Wordsworth will start a new school of poetry. Wesley will create a new religious movement, and Ruskin a new political economy. Innovation will come, and the stir and struggle of the world will go on as of old; but instead of the fight being conducted on the low levels of the body, and with the weapons of barbarism, it will be in the higher regions of intellect and fancy, the conscience and the will; that is, in the realm of personal character.
It is not, then, too much to say that collectivism has therefore the promise and potency of immeasurable aids to the best life of man.
WAYS OF LOOKING AT LIFE
VII.— Nor is this all. Besides setting men free from the crippling and blinding influences of competitive industry, and making the toil for bread and butter as automatic as possible, collectivism will open fountains of ethical energy in the various spheres in which men serve their fellows.
Two Europeans have travelled, says Henry James in "The Europeans," to the United States, and are conversing on the habits of the Americans. Felix Young says—"I don't think it's what one does or doesn't do that promotes enjoyment; its the general way of looking at life. "They," said Gertrude, speaking of the American Puritans, "look at it as a discipline; that is what they do here; I've often been told that." "Well, that's very good; but there is another way," added Felix smiling, "to look at it as an opportunity." "An opportunity. Yes," said Gertrude; " one would get more pleasure that way."
Great issues hang on our way of looking at life. What we do, what we are, what we do not do, and what we do not attain, are decided by what we think life to be.
Four ways are in vogue. Some see life as a curse—a catastrophe, and like Job they denounce the day of their birth, and in spasms of agony sigh for the grave. To a second class it is a selfish pleasure, a round of unbroken enjoyments, with no advance in power, no enriching of character, no service to others. Some again see it as a school or a discipline, but the fourth conception is that of life as an opportunity. That is Christ's view. To Him life is a "plenteous harvest," waiting for the well-gripped sickle of the earnest-hearted and clear-sighted reaper.
Now, of these ways of regarding human experience the first is a mistake, the creed of a victim, the gasp of the suffering; the second is ignoble and low-roofed; the third is true, but a fragment; the last is a perfect whole.
Unchecked commercialism, grinding the faces of the poor, and adding fetter to fetter, goads the myriads who cry day and night, "What shall we eat and what shall we drink, and wherewithal shall we be clothed?" to treat existence as a curse, and the grave as a coveted heaven. It is only in rare cases that any other thought of life visits them. And is it not the same unchecked commercialism that makes it possible for so many to waste their lives by the rivers of pleasure and treat existence as though it were no more than a selfish luxury? But the collectivism that would satisfy the desires of Agur, bringing neither poverty nor riches, would open the spirit in the healing and inspiring conception that life is first a school for the training and development of manhood, but of definite purpose a sphere for useful ministry in the family, the city, the State, and the Church.
For the Collectivist state is for industrial purposes exclusively. Nobody intends that it should embrace the entire life of man and suppress the home, free association for art, learning, philosophy, and science, and religious Societies. Some men writes as though the State were to be "the one social organ selected to fulfil all the functions of a perfected social life." By no means. It is not intended, or expected, or possible. The family is a social organ of superlative value, and cannot be dispensed with in any rearrangement of the industrial elements and forces of social life. Schæffle says:—"Socialism is not necessarily destructive of private life and freedom," and from the point of view of character-making the family is of primary importance. Under collectivism the temptation to marry for gain, for personal support, would be gone, and men and woman could unite on the basis of supreme and exclusive affection for each other. Instead of the atrophy of the home, opportunity would be secured for the development of family life and the increase of its effectiveness as an organ of social happiness and service. In the same way many of the obstacles that now stand in the way of civic improvements, of national progress, and of spiritual victory, would be removed, and the ethical resources of city life, patriotism, and religion would be set free to achieve the highest and best.
I do not say that collectivism is the only thing needful. I recognise its limits. I see clearly the deeper spiritual needs of men ; but within the area of industrialism this is the advance we should seek. We must not be content to float in Utopian ether, and sit still dreaming of the good things of the year 2000. I believe in visions, but it is when they inspire service. We must teach. Ideas rule. We have many formulas that are not based on fact. They must go. Teach the young. Fire their souls with the Socialistic passion, and quicken their intelligence with Socialistic ideas. They are capable of heroism. They may be made to see something better than heaping up "a pile of money." Win them and train them for the future.
Then do not let slip an immediate and real good by grasping after a far-distant one. Don't quarrel. Don't cavil. Avail yourselves of all real help. It may not be what you want, nor all you want, but
The smallest effort is not lost,
Each wavelet on the ocean tossed
Aids in the ebb tide or the flow.
Unify London. Municipalize gas, water, and tramways. Nationalise the land. Welcome co-operation. Hail frank and straightforward profit-sharing. Foster Trade Unions. Get rid of the drink traffic. Remove the barrier to woman's work. Getting these will not postpone the millennium of collective ownership. They will form the organs for socialistic teaching, and supply training for the use of the larger machinery when it is to hand.
I have read that Lammenais, who was a seer, if not a statesman, in one of his parables suggests some ray of hope for the future. He tells us how at traveller found his path through a precipitous ravine blocked by an immense rock, which, with the greatest effort of his strength, he could not move. He sat down helpless in despair. Others came along the same road, and each in his turn strove in vain to find passage. At last, drawing together, they besought Heaven to aid them, but no voice replied, no angel appeared to roll away the stone, and then, as if inspired, one asked, "May we not succeed together where we failed alone?" Before their united strength the barrier yielded and left the way open. The journey is life, the rock is human misery.
Adelaide Observer (SA :) 1893, http://nla.gov.au/nla.news-article160809441