Part
I: Philosophy
CHAPTER VIII
THE
COMING OF POWER
IT has perhaps by now become possible to obtain some sort of
mental picture of the policy controlling the world in which
we live, and having done this it should be easier to make some
comparison of this policy with one to which more general acquiescence
might be obtained. It must be recognised that the great elementary
human emotions, desire and fear, are employed with great skill
by the Invisible Government, in the guise of rewards and punishments,
to obtain certain results. These results, it would appear, might
not have been obtained, had not a large majority of the world's
population been cajoled or forced into doing a great deal of
work which momentary necessity did not, in point of fact, render
inevitable. In this way have been produced enormous reserves
of real capital, by which is meant plant, buildings, tools,
and still more important, the knowledge, organisation, and processes
necessary to their application; and only by this building up
of capital, it would seem, has further progress become possible.
In the earlier centuries of the present era, even war seems
to have been justifiable in a broad sense, both as an elimination
test, and as a stimulant to invention and initiative. It is
also difficult to conceive of any plan by which the possible
advantage of the individual could have been advanced so rapidly,
as by his temporary submergence in large groups, to which we
give the name of nations or races. All this may be admitted
as being applicable to within comparatively recent years, let
us say to the middle of the last century, just as we may often
be prepared to admit that a statesman who, under post-war conditions
has become a hindrance to progress, rendered vital service under
circumstances suitable to his talents.
But
because a thing was once sound and desirable, it is by no means
necessary to admit that it is permanently advantageous. Largely
because of the progress in the industrial arts, but not less
as the result of a general spread of education, a system of
world organisation which is based on the deception of the general
public, the practical necessity or expediency which might perhaps
be excused in the past, has now become both undesirable and
actively and practically vicious.
The
reaction of a threat on the highly-strung human product of modern
civilisation is dissimilar from that which was obtained a few
hundred years ago. War has become definitely dysgenic. So far
from killing off the weakling and the slow-minded, it has a
strong tendency to remove these, together with the shirker,
to a point distant from the field of conflict, and in many cases
to place them in a position of subsequent advantage both financially
and otherwise, as compared with bolder and more enterprising
compatriots. And human intelligence has progressed to the extent
that a method of stimulating industry similar to the holding
of a carrot continuously in front of a donkey's nose to produce
progress, has ceased to function effectively. Even an ass has
a rudimentary sense of proportion between miles walked and carrots
achieved. If the principal objective to which humanity might
reasonably be directed, were the same as that existing five
hundred years ago, it is nevertheless clear from the general
unrest, that the methods by which general co-operation can be
obtained require considerable and early modification. But this
objective is not the same.
It
seems indisputable that the maintenance of a unit of human life
involves a process of metabolism, or, in other words, the breaking
down and building up of form through the application of energy.
When men maintained themselves by manual labour, this process
was very nearly a closed cycle, that is to say, it took a large
portion of the energy which mankind acquired through food, to
maintain life. There is inductive support for this line of thought
in the consideration of such civilisations as those of India
and Persia, which were at a substantially similar stage less
than one hundred years ago, to that which they had reached three
or more thousand years ago. Even to-day, there are thousands
of square miles in the Middle and Far East, in which both the
habits of thought, and manner of life, are indistinguishable
from those recorded in the earliest literature with which we
are acquainted. The cycle was, in all probability, not quite
closed, or under the law of the conservation of energy, which
can be assumed to apply in some form, no progress would have
been possible; and it is reasonable to argue that the slight
increment of energy which permitted the upward spiral of evolution,
was derived by direct absorption of the energy of the sun's
rays.
But
the inductive or experimental method of attack on the problems
of life which may be said to be the outstanding feature of the
Renaissance in the West, resulted in a profound disturbance
of the premises of human existence. From the moment that the
first crude steam-engine pumped the first gallon of water, if
not before, the metabolic cycle contained a factor, a new method
of entrance for solar energy, which was bound to result in a
much steeper spiral of ascent. And at the present time it seems
reasonable to believe that we have reached a point at which
we are within sight of a considerable release of human energy
from the mechanical drudgery of existence by toil.
The
outcome of this must surely be obvious. So far from the mere
sustenance of life through the production of food, clothing,
and shelter from the elements being, with reason, the prime
objective of human endeavour, it should now be possible to relegate
it to the position of a semi-automatic process. Biologists
tell us that the earliest known forms of life devoted practically
the whole of their attention to the business of breathing. Breathing
is not less necessary now than it was then, but only persons
suffering from some lamentable disease pay much attention
to the process.
It
is not relevant to the purposes of this book to indicate the
new objective to which human energy will in all probability
redirect itself. It is merely intended to suggest the possibility
of the re-orientation, and the methods by which at the moment
it is being hindered, in order that those hindrances may be
removed.
Now
it is quite probable that a recognition of the truth of the
foregoing ideas, although not formulated, underlies a great
deal of the opposition to any sort of reform, on the part of
the more favourably situated individuals in society. These persons
recognise that they have, in their fortunate position, something
worth retaining. Whether a satisfactory use is always made of
the opportunity which is theirs, is for the moment, outside
the argument. Until recently, every proposal for a change has
attacked their position. They have replied, and with reason,
that they have just as much, or if it be preferred, as little
claim to consideration as those persons who have attacked them,
and, in any case, there they are, and there they mean to stay.
This incidentally demonstrates the futility of abstract justice
when in opposition to the solid facts of life.
In
thus opposing claims for a general levelling down of the amenities
of modern civilisation, such persons were probably on sound
ground, although the tactics adopted by them may have been of
dubious sagacity; but it is to be feared that, in many cases,
this opposition to a bad change, has become crystallised into
opposition to a change of any kind. It may, therefore, be of
practical value to emphasise the fact that at the present time
the alternative is not between change and no change, but between
a change for the better, or a change for the worse. If the present
system, with its sanctions of rewards and punishments, were
working satisfactorily or even tolerably, nothing could be more
academic than the discussion of more desirable alternatives,
even though the logic applied to such proposals might demonstrate
with crystal clearness that an advantage was thus to be obtained.
But the facts are wholly otherwise. It is almost certain that,
were there no proposals of any sort, good, bad, or indifferent,
Socialistic, Communistic, or Imperialistic, being pressed forward
at the present time, by every means and sanction which can be
applied to them, the present social and industrial system would
no longer work. As we shall shortly see, there are quite definite
mechanical defects in it, and the result of those mechanical
defects is to produce a psychological reaction, which can only
result, if allowed to proceed to its logical conclusion, in
a state of affairs which will involve both the temporarily fortunate
and the temporarily unfortunate, in a common chaos.
For
at least forty years the doctrine of Sabotage, i.e. the
conscious restriction of output, has permeated all sections
of Society and is a logically, and in a restricted sense, a
perfectly proper method of obtaining the best results for the
individual under the rules by which business and Society is
at present conducted. Not to admit that, is to shirk facts.
And not to see that this restriction of output (using the phrase
in its broadest sense, to include all descriptions of unspecified
activity at present widely outside the range of economics),
is nothing but social suicide, is equally to shirk facts. The
test of a natural law is that it is automatic and inexorable,
and the proof of the contention which is advanced in this book,
that as soon as Society ceases to serve the interests of the
individual, then the individual will break up Society, is proved
by the course of events at this time; and those persons who
wish to preserve Society can do no worse service to their cause,
than to depict their idol as an unchangeable organisation whose
claims are to be regarded as superior to those of the human
spirit.
The
stage is set for a change of mechanism; in place of a Society
based on restraint, a Society based on the conception of assistance,
of co-operation, is overdue. Let us be clear that the only
assistance which is tolerable or acceptable is that which can
be declined if it is not wanted.