Invention and Criticism
"Criticism"--the word has been used repeatedly, and it is time it gave an account of itself. Criticism evidently demands balancing off one desire by another. One tendency gets criticized by running afoul of another tendency, one idea by conflicting with another idea. We concoct a fine joke to play on our friend; but then the thought comes to us that he may not take it kindly; we don't want to break with our friend, and so we regretfully throw our promising invention on the scrap heap. That is self-criticism, the [{510}] balancing off of one impulse by another. Self-criticism is obnoxious to the natural man, who prefers to follow out any tendency that has been aroused till it reaches its goal; but he learns self-criticism in the hard school of experience. For plenty of criticism is directed upon the individual from without.
Criticism is directed upon him by the facts of the real world, so soon as he tries to act out what he has imagined. Often his invention will not work, his plan does not succeed, and he is involved in chagrin and even pain. He must perforce cast away his plan and think up a new one. At this point the "weak brother" is tempted to give up trying, and take refuge in autistic thinking, but the stronger individual accepts the challenge of reality. He sees that an invention is not satisfactory unless it will really work, and sets about learning what will work and what not, so accumulating observations that later enable him to criticize his own ideas, to some extent, before trying them out on real things.
Criticism is directed upon the individual from the side of other people, who from the day he first begins to tell his childish imaginings, are quite free with their objections. Humiliated by this critical reception of his ideas, the individual may resolve to keep them to himself for the future, and draw away, again, towards autistic thinking; or, more forcefully, he may exert himself to find some idea that will command the approval of other people. If he can take rebuffs goodnaturedly, he soon finds that social criticism can be a great help, that two heads are better than one in planning any invention that needs to work. He accumulates knowledge of what will pass muster when presented to other people, and thus again learns self-criticism.
Self-criticism is helped by such rules as to "think twice", to "sleep on it before deciding", to "drop the matter for a time and come back to it and see whether it still looks [{511}] the same". When you are all warmed up over an idea, its recency value gives it such an advantage over opposing ideas that they have no chance, for the moment, of making themselves felt in the line of criticism.
I once heard the great psychologist, and great writer, William James, make a remark that threw some light on his mode of writing. In the evening, he said, after warming up to his subject, he would write on and on till he had exhausted the lead he was following, and lay the paper aside with the feeling, "Good! Good! That's good". The next morning, he said, it might not seem good at all. This calls to mind the old advice to writers about its being "better to compose with fury and correct with phlegm than to compose with phlegm and correct with fury". The phlegmatic critical attitude interferes considerably with the enthusiastic inventive activity. Give invention free rein for the time being, and come around with criticism later.
Some over-cautious and too self-critical persons, though rather fertile in ideas, never accomplish much in the way of invention because they cannot let themselves go. Criticism is always at their elbow, suggesting doubts and alternatives and preventing progress in the creative activity, instead of biding its time and coming in to inspect the completed result. For a similar reason, much of the best inventive work--writing, for example, or painting--is done in prolonged periods of intense activity, which allow time for invention to get warmed to its task, when it takes the bit in its teeth and dashes off at a furious speed, leaving criticism to trail along behind.
Invention in the service of art or of economic and social needs is controlled imagination, realistic, socialized, subjected to criticism. It cannot afford to be autistic, but must meet objective or social standards. Mechanical inventions must work when translated into matter-of-fact wood and iron, and [{512}] must also pass the social test of being of some use. Social inventions of the order of institutions, laws, political platforms and slogans, plans of campaign, must "work" in the sense of bringing the desired response from the public. Social imagination of the very important sort suggested by the proverbs, "Seeing ourselves as others see us", or "Putting ourselves in the other fellow's place"--for it is only by imagination that we can thus get outside of our own experience and assume another point of view--must check up with the real sentiments of other people.