FOOTNOTES:
[56] Kelly, Some Ethical Gains through Legislation, p. 112.
[57] Veblen, The Theory of the Leisure Class, pp. 65-6.
[58] Patten, New Basis of Civilization, p. 62.
[59] Kelly, Some Ethical Gains through Legislation, pp. 112-3.
[60] Tyler, Man in the Light of Evolution, p. 109.
CHAPTER VI
Status of Women and Home Industry among Professional Classes
The effect of industrial changes upon the status of women is most marked in two conspicuous social classes—the class primarily engaged in the task of procuring a bare subsistence where the lack of leisure and insufficient economic returns allows little play for other than the economic forces,—and the class which by virtue of new industrial methods is the recipient of a constantly increasing degree of leisure. Between these two extremes we find the professional classes the prey of a conflict between the newer ideals of democracy and the leisure class ideals wrought out before the era of modern industrialism.
No other class shows so marked a conflict between the older conservatism and the innovations brought about by modern industrial conditions, as the professional classes. The radical tendencies appear in those professions most dependent upon and closely allied to industrial life, and the conservative tendencies claim as their stronghold those fields of activity closely allied to wealth and leisure.
The spirit of innovation is one of the results of an adaptation to changing industrial conditions; and this adaptation is always necessary when a class depends directly for its remuneration upon the individuals for whom the services were rendered. On the other hand, conservatism had its basis in customs arising out of the institutions of the past; can flourish only in a class independent of the general public for its maintenance.
Before the spread of democratic ideals, the field of higher learning was monopolized by the leisure class. Therefore, a high standard of living characterized it, and was essential in maintaining the status of its representatives.
Before the development of industry, the leisure class was synonymous with the nobility or the priesthood. To belong to the nobility it was necessary to possess the predatory instinct to a marked degree, in order to gain material advantage, especially in an age when wealth was more limited than at present and carried with it almost unlimited power. Sometimes when an individual accumulated much material wealth he was admitted into the noble class, and often into the priesthood.
Although the priesthood loaned its power to the nobility to fortify its temporal authority, it taught equality in the spiritual realm. The greater ease with which the priesthood could be entered opened a larger field for the ambitious youth whose mind craved stimulation. His economic condition had to be such as to free him from the responsibility of providing for others, as well as sufficient to afford him an education. When he had once attained his goal, and belonged to the priestly class, he reached a status in life exclusive by virtue of its prestige, and in no wise divorced from material wealth.
Learning in the past depended upon the individual’s ability to live without productive employment, and a willingness to devote himself to the learned arts which had no economic significance. Here we find a combination of democratic and aristocratic ideals. When marked intellectual ability was manifest, it was not uncommon for one of humble origin to attain a position of distinction in the church. Once in the church he belonged to an exclusive class surrounding itself with rituals and ceremonials.
The nobility of the land received a rude shock from the development of industry, but the church always allied itself to those who were most able to give, and did not hesitate to sacrifice the temporal aristocracy in order to maintain the spiritual one. Although learning “set out with being in some sense a by-product of the priestly vicarious class” it has had to submit to democratic influences which grew out of industrial changes. These influences are most significant in the spread of the rudiments of learning among the common people, and the greater the opportunities for a common school education, the greater the possibility for the individual to enter the field of higher learning when the opportunity presents itself. But to enter this field is to depart from the practical affairs of life and to devote oneself, if breadwinning were essential, to imparting this knowledge to others. This applies to the practice of acquiring knowledge for the sake of learning and not for its practical application, as for instance in medicine.
No matter how few the impediments placed in the way of the ambitious youth entering the field of higher learning, the lack of economic resources naturally deterred all but the most determined from the undertaking. Hence we find the field of higher learning, which is purely cultural, becoming the privilege of the leisure class, free from economic pressure, and able to maintain the ritual and ceremonial observances. “The universities of Paris and Oxford and Cambridge were founded to educate the lord and the priest. And to these schools and their successors, as time went on, fell the duty of training the gentlemen and the clergy.”[61]
The early universities of Germany showed the same spirit. They “did not grow up gradually, like the earlier ones in France and Italy, but were established after a scheme already extant and in operation. The spiritual and temporal power contributed to their foundation. The Pope, by a bull, founded the institution as a teaching establishment, and endowed it with the privilege of bestowing degrees, whereby it became a studium generale or privilegiatum, for according to mediaeval conceptions teaching had its proper source and origin in the church alone.”[62]
While it is extremely difficult to change fossilized habits of thought, newer civilizations send forth fresh shoots adapted to new conditions. Thanks to the development of industry demanding trained minds of a useful bent, we find the newer institutions of learning becoming more practical, and developing the useful arts and sciences.
“Through the movement toward the democracy of studies and constructive individualism, a new ideal is being reached in American universities, that of personal effectiveness. The ideal in England has always been that of personal culture: that of France, the achieving, through competitive examinations, of ready made careers, the satisfaction of what Villari calls ‘Impiegomania,’ the craze for an appointment; that of Germany, thoroughness of knowledge; that of America, the power to deal with men and conditions.”[63]
The new types of schools, characteristically American, have influenced the older type, until we see on all sides a struggle between the leisure class ideals and the practical ideals of democracy; the outcome of this struggle depending in each case upon the degree of control exercised by the financial contributors—the leisure class or the masses.
The degree of democracy in our higher institutions of learning determines the degree of “ritualistic paraphernalia” in vogue. The use of “ritualistic paraphernalia” is an example of the social ideals of a naturally conservative class and is slow to respond to democratic ideals brought about by industrial changes.
The spread of democracy has brought into our schools a new class of savants. They possess all the qualifications of the older savants save their financial independence. Their poverty is not a great calamity to those who remain celibates, but to the head of a family it means a struggle to maintain a standard of living too high for his income.
The home is the last to free itself from the influence of leisure class ideals which permeate higher learning; and the struggle to reconcile the newer ideals with the older ones is almost tragic. The heaviest strain falls upon the wife who struggles to maintain her social status upon which depends the status of the family. A display of clothes is not as essential to the maintenance of this status as an appearance of leisure, and the conveyance of the impression to the outsider that a high standard of comfort and luxury is realized. That the comfort actually exist is not necessary so long as the outsiders are deceived.
Often a great deal of ingenuity is displayed by the housewife in conveying on a very moderate income the impression that the family is living on a high plane. Economy is practiced “in the obscurer elements of consumption that go to physical comfort and maintenance.”
This class of society illustrates most pathetically the ideals of propriety of a non-industrial group. Its reluctance in giving up its exclusiveness, and its persistence in clinging to leisure-class standards is most apparent in the home. Here the life of the housewife is often one of drudgery “especially where the competition for reputability is close and strenuous.”
The duties of the wife of the college professor are manifold. The work of ministering to the fundamental needs of the family is left to a servant, or if it is impossible to keep hired help, it is done with as much secrecy as possible, in order to avoid the stigma of commonness. Where she assumes all the household tasks, the strain upon her is a severe one. The mechanical conveniences are not applied to her work with the same degree of speed with which newer patterns in rugs and other furniture make their appearance in the household. The list of articles essential to the maintenance of an appropriate standard of living is a long one, and many of them have no other charm than the expensiveness which proclaims pecuniary strength.
It must not be inferred that the position of the housewife is a subordinate one. Her authority is paramount in the home which her ingenuity has planned and so skillfully manipulates. Her social prestige is as far above her financial means as the standard of living she attempts to maintain is above her husband’s salary. This social prestige rests upon a deference paid to the higher learning her husband is accredited with by virtue of his position. Her intellectual attainments may be very mediocre but that is a matter of indifference as long as she possesses a knowledge of the arts of polite society. Indeed, the superficial acquirements of a ladies’ seminary are of a greater assistance to her in performing her social functions than a mastery of the sciences.
The difficulty encountered in attempting to maintain the old aristocratic ideals is having two effects: There is a greater tendency for college men not to marry, or to marry late in life—after securing an economic foothold; and secondly, to add to incomes by directing a part of their energy along lines offering greater economic returns, such as the writing of books to satisfy a popular demand not of a purely scholastic nature, or of having interests belonging entirely to the business world. Veblen says, “Those heads of institutions are best accepted who combine the sacerdotal office with a degree of pecuniary efficiency. There is a similar but less pronounced tendency to intrust the work of instruction in the higher learning to men of some pecuniary qualification.”[64]
The business ventures of college men afford a pecuniary return compatible with scholastic scale of living. The increase of income relieves wives of the strain which great economy necessarily involves, and gives them a greater amount of leisure to perform their social duties, and to render the little personal services so essential to the comfort of their families.
In no other class do we see a greater divergence between the rating of the women and that of the men. On the one hand, we see the men graded by a standard of an intellectual nature; on the other hand their womenfolk are rated according to a standard purely social and pecuniary, with no regard to utility. Both are conservative and tend to be archaic depending in a large measure upon the institution where the teaching is done.
The conservatism shown in clinging to ancient ideals of womanhood is illustrated by the attitude of these learned men toward the admission of women into their ranks on an equality with themselves. “There has prevailed a strong sense that the admission of women to the privileges of the higher learning (as the Eleusinian mysteries) would be derogatory to the dignity of the learned craft. It is, therefore, only recently, and almost solely in the industrially most advanced communities, that the higher grades of schools have been freely opened to women. And even under the urgent circumstances prevailing in the modern industrial communities, the highest and most reputable universities show an extreme reluctance to making the move. The sense of class worthiness, that is to say of status, of an honorific differentiation of the sexes according to a distinction between superior and inferior intellectual dignity, survives in a vigorous form in these corporations of the aristocracy of learning. It is felt that women should, in all propriety, acquire only such knowledge as may be classed under one or the other of two heads: (1) such knowledge as conduces immediately to a better performance of domestic service—the domestic sphere; (2) such accomplishments and dexterity, quasi-scholarly and quasi-artistic, as plainly come in under the head of the performance of vicarious leisure. Knowledge is felt to be unfeminine if it is knowledge which expresses the unfolding of the learner’s own life, the acquisition of which proceeds on the learner’s own cognitive interest, without prompting from the canons of propriety.”[65]
Where women enter the higher fields of learning, they show a tendency—although not so marked as in the past—to select those lines of work and thought which have no practical bearing on every day life. In other words, they follow those lines of study which are most similar to those pursued by the students of the Middle Ages who sought knowledge without any thought of its utility. This tendency of women is evident in co-educational institutions where their selection of studies shows their object in the main to be the acquisition of knowledge of a cultural rather than a practical nature. This choice is most suitable to their object in life assuming that object to be matrimony. The other activity followed mostly by college bred women—school teaching, makes little demand outside of the lines of work pursued by most women.
Men long ago learned that there is a demand for highly trained minds in fields other than that of teaching. They have adapted themselves to this demand until we see men deserting studies of a purely cultural value, and pursuing those more applicable to every day life. Women are showing the same tendencies in communities where there is a demand for their services in fields other than teaching, and where matrimony has become more of an uncertainty and economic independence a fact.
When women pursue their college work with a definite practical purpose in view, they too will desert those lines of work, largely, if not wholly, valued for their culture side alone.
In the schools directly controlled by the people we find a greater appreciation of democracy than in the colleges. The public has great reverence for custom and tradition so long as these conservative forces do not interfere too much with practical utility. This sense of practical utility is closely allied to the commercial principle of getting the best to be had for money laid out. This principle appeals to all save when it is a violent contradiction to the accepted moral code. The policy conferring the greatest benefit to the greatest number at the least cost is adopted if it does not conflict with more powerful interests. As a result of this policy women are admitted into professional work, especially school teaching, because they will not only work for less wages than will the men, but will do a better grade of work for less money.
Superintendents and principals are agreed that for the same salary a higher grade teacher can be procured among women than among men, and hence, despite their conservatism and prejudice, they feel obliged to follow the policy that best utilizes the means at hand. As a result women have crowded men out of the common schools and have become so well established in this field of work as to have gathered sufficient strength to demand the same remuneration as men for the same kind of work.[66]
Married women are still excluded from many of the common schools in deference to the old idea that married women should remain in the home and follow no remunerative occupation. Even if there existed no good reason for debarring married women from the work of school teaching, the conservatism of the community would deter those in authority from overruling conventional ideas. Not until there is a dearth of teachers, brought about by the extension of the fields of activity open to educated women, will married women receive general recognition in the profession on the same footing with the unmarried.
Although in academic work the instructor is supposed to maintain as high a plane of living as a full professor—especially in the smaller colleges where the faculty is able to maintain its class exclusiveness—the poorly paid minister is not so conscious of the discrepancy between his standard of living and his income. He has, indeed, the same financial problem to face as the college instructor, for he, too, is guided largely by the leisure class standards of the past, but it is smaller and hence less tragic. He is not expected to keep up the same plane of expenditure as the better paid ministers. He tends to imitate the well-to-do among his parishioners, or the intellectual elite of the community rather than his professional brethren.
The stronger the hold the minister has over his congregation the more closely does his remuneration correspond to the standard of living he is expected to maintain. It is true his services are often undervalued when measured by money, and that he belongs to a profession that stands in a measure for sacrifice, but his social prestige in itself makes certain demands upon the congregation that cannot be overlooked. To maintain this prestige by a high plane of living on a meagre salary is one of the problems of the minister and his family. George Eliot presents the difficulty in a small conservative community in the following words: “Given a man with a wife and six children; let him be obliged always to exhibit himself when outside his own door in a suit of black broadcloth, such as will not undermine the foundations of the establishment by a paltry plebeian glossiness or an unseemly whiteness at the edges; in a snowy cravat, which is a serious investment of labour in the hemming, starching, and ironing departments; and in a hat which shows no symptom of taking in the hideous doctrine of expediency, and shaping itself according to circumstances; let him have a parish large enough to create an external necessity for abundant beef and mutton as well as poor enough to require frequent priestly consolation in the shape of shillings and six-pences; and, lastly, let him be compelled, by his own pride and other peoples’, to dress his wife and children with gentility from bonnet-strings. By what process of division can the sum of eighty pounds per annum be made to yield a quotient which will cover that man’s weekly expenses?”
The problem is still essentially the same in a poor parish, for the minister must maintain a standard of consumption above the average of the community.
The problem tends to assume a different aspect in an industrial community where democratic ideas are as evident as financial prosperity. The individual’s concern for his well-being in another world gives way to his concern for the present. He insists upon spiritual guidance, but also expects assistance in bringing about better relations between himself and his fellow men. He often insists upon his minister being a higher intellectual product than is demanded by the more conservative communities. He regards him as a teacher who ought to be versed in the affairs of every-day-life and not one confining himself exclusively to the implications of a future state.
Like the school men, ministers are appreciating the necessity of a greater and broader democracy within their class, but unlike the former, their habits of life are more democratic than their teachings.
Those professions depending upon the direct patronage of the public for support are nowadays distinguished by a tendency to depart from the conservatism characteristic of them in their earlier stages. A physician often completes a college course in science and letters before receiving the three or four years training fitting him for his life work. In mental training he rivals the best college professors and yet his social status savors of the common people. He is inclined to be democratic in his tastes, in his habits of life, and in the selection of his companions. He is one of the people rather than of an exclusive social class.
While officialism and ceremonial rituals characterized the medical profession when its services were rendered almost exclusively to the people of rank and distinction, or when it was closely allied to priestly functions, the nature of the work now demands close association with those upon whom the profession depends for financial support. The necessity of associating with people of all ranks fosters the spirit of democracy, and a common-sense philosophy of life.
The physician maintains a standard of living in harmony with the ideals of the community of which he is a part, and in accordance with his income. He cannot maintain a standard of living which erects a social barrier between himself and his patients, either by its extreme simplicity, or by its conspicuous waste.
The wife of the average physician enjoys a freedom from social restraint not seen in many of the professional classes. Financially she does not feel the necessity of entering into economic employments to keep up her standard of living, for the income of the family, though varying, tends to adjust itself to the demands her social position calls for.
The practice of medicine requires not only considerable skill but great mental concentration, keen judgment and intuition. For women to gain admission into medical schools is to acquire the privilege of the fullest mental development. The concession of this privilege is an acknowledgment of the possession of an inherent ability essential to successfully follow this line of work. When one considers that success in medicine calls for special talent it is evident the number of women seeking to follow this line of work will be small compared with the number desiring to enter the academic field.
Although women make strenuous efforts to overcome all barriers raised against their admission to the different fields of activity, they cling with great tenacity to ancient sex privileges inconsistent with a man’s conception of “solid comfort.” For instance, the objects of medical associations are social as well as scientific. The scientific program would undoubtedly meet with the approval of both sexes in the profession but the social functions are a real stumbling block,—the women leaning toward formalities and conventionalities, and the men toward what is termed “a good social time.” This is in itself sufficient to prompt most men to oppose admitting women into intellectual and social clubs.
The industrial evolution plays a large part in shaping the institutions of society. While economic relations may not be considered the most essential in life, they determine in great measure, the nature of our relations to social institutions themselves.
Where the economic influence is not direct we see preserved with the least change the institutions of the past. What is true of institutions is also true of the occupations of men. Their conservatism varies in the degree to which they are affected by economic and industrial conditions.
Those professions least dependent upon immediate industrial changes are the most conservative in their work and ideas, and most closely reflect the ideals of the past. On the other hand, those professions which depend for their support upon the services rendered to the community remunerated according to the recipients’ estimation of these services, have discarded almost all the traditions of the past, although their origin can be traced to the most conservative institutions of society.
The influence of industrial changes upon social institutions is apparent in the home. Although the homes of the industrial classes must adapt themselves to industrial changes even though these changes lower the plane of family comfort, the professional classes enjoy a margin above subsistence sufficient to enable them to combat changes with a conservatism characteristic of all classes having a greater respect for custom and leisure-class standards than for beneficial innovations. Hence we find the homes reflecting ideals of the past which clash with the democratic ideals of the present, and illustrate in their various phases the struggle between the old and the new.
While the home makers of some of the professional classes are more conservative than the men, this is not true of those women who are actively engaged in professional work themselves. They are more radical than men of the same class, and are leaders not only in movements for bettering the condition of women, but in progressive movements affecting society as a whole. As a rule they are a superior intellectual type, and not representative of the average woman any more than our intellectual elite among the men represent the average man, for the average person is characterized by adaptability rather than by the spirit of innovations.
The professional classes here discussed are those which have developed out of a class of savants who were originally and primarily engaged with knowledge of an occult nature. It is true that out of these classes engaged in the transmission of knowledge have developed a class of scientists whose field of activity is industrial, the engineer groups—and whose standard of living tends to correspond to the money income of the family. It is often considerably larger than the income of the professional man employed in college work. For that reason the wife of the professional man is not confronted with the same problems as the wife of the teacher.
The social status of the professional people whose activities are confined to the industrial field is measured by their financial status. This makes it unnecessary for them to maintain a plane of consumption at variance with their income.