We come thus naturally to a question of the day,—the contest between the Individualist and the Socialist.
What has already been said makes it sufficiently evident that, if Individualism is to be maintained at all, it cannot be upheld on the ground that the doings of the individual are of no importance to society, and his sins may therefore not be interfered with by society. In "Social Statics," Mr. Spencer secures freedom for "personal vice" by turning his principle that a man has a right to seek his own ends as long as he does not prevent others from the pursuit of their ends, into the entirely different one, that a man has a right to seek a certain end if he does not prevent others from seeking the same end.[276] The argument in this form is applied to drunkenness, but it could as well be used to prove the moral rightness of murder or any other crime, the sole condition being that the murderer did not prevent others from committing the crime also.
Nor is the Individualism less self-contradictory which bases its theory on the principle that it is the office of civil law to guard the rights of the individual. What individual? All individuals? If so, then assuredly it is the duty of the State to see that the laborer is paid a fair price for his work.
Nor can it be shown, as Höffding asserts, that intellectual labor benefits the whole of society, while manual labor is less valuable because it is for a few. The intellectual laborer knows well of what value to him and his ilk is the manual labor which feeds him, clothes him, and manufactures the thousand and one things necessary for his comfort, leaving him leisure to pursue his studies with all material wants provided for. The satisfaction of our material wants is the very first requisite of life, without which intellectual labor would be an impossibility.
There are, however, many degrees and shades of Individualism. As Höffding says, Individualism may be identical with Egoism, but it need not be so. And, moreover, as has been noticed, the adherents of theories of Egoistic Morals are not necessarily adherents of any theory of selfishness.
The theories bearing the name of Socialism are also very various,—quite as much so as those included under the head of Individualism. It is, therefore, both confusing to consider Socialism without some notice of the distinction between these various phases of theory, and is likely to lead to protest from one side or the other. But no single party of Socialists can be treated exclusively as "the" Socialists; a minority of the party cannot expect to be regarded as anything but a minority.
Of the tendency to represent the whole of the present order of society as utterly bad,—a tendency not confined to the Socialist party, but nevertheless strongly developed in many parts of it,—considerable has already been said. As Höffding remarks, it is difficult to perceive how, in an utterly corrupt society, any foundation may be found on which to build the almost flawless society the Socialist proposes to institute. If the course of evolution has hitherto been propitious to the increase of evil, it is difficult to find any scientific grounds for a belief that evolution will now proceed to favor the good. If man, as a being possessing reason, has hitherto chosen, in increasing degree, injustice towards his fellow-man, it is scarcely possible for any one who proceeds upon the supposition of constancy in the action of man as a part of nature to hope that future events will exhibit exactly opposite characters. Assuredly, we are far enough from the goal yet, but in order to demonstrate this fact it is not necessary to prove that we are worse than any previous age has been. The tendency to lay stress, by every means, on present evil, in the endeavor to impress its reality and undesirability upon the mind of society, is comprehensible; and doubtless, too, as the troubles of the individual are likely to appear to himself among the hardest possible, so to those on whom the evils of the age press most severely these are likely to seem greater than the evils of any other times. But this method of regarding history is not the less erroneous. "In the age of chivalry men had at least a common ideal," said a Socialist to me, not long since. But what an ideal! And unity of purpose is not by any means necessarily a sign of a high plane. It may, on the contrary, signify stupidity, lack of the power of independent thought. The first result of thought on any particular subject is sure to be a division of opinion, although mutual criticism gradually evolves harmony from the strife, and brings about a degree of unity again, on a higher plane; for the mutual criticism is sure to have been of intellectual use. The Socialists themselves have demonstrated the fact that division of opinion necessarily arises when men begin to think upon any question, for with the development of their party many different phases of socialistic theory have appeared. The history of the division of the Church into sects, and of the mutual criticism of these sects, has been the history of religious progress.
With some Socialists, again, the already criticised idea of a "return to nature" plays a conspicuous part. But we have never departed from nature; we are as much a part of nature, as natural, as we ever were. Or, if we are to return, who shall tell us at just what point we leave the "artificial" and arrive at the "natural"? There are no stopping-places, no stations or pauses, in the scale of evolution. There is only continual change by inappreciable increments. The theory of evolution carries with it no significance which could authorize us to consider that we had arrived at our goal at one point rather than at another. And, again, if we are to give up the artificial customs of later development and return to earlier habits, then customs of altruistic action, as the most distinctive and characteristic of later forms of conduct, must be chiefly affected. If, however, by a return to nature is meant the adoption of a simpler mode of life in some classes in order that a less simple but more healthful one may become possible in other classes, the question of the desirability of such a change is, of course, open to discussion; but let us consider it under these terms then. To designate the proposed mode of life as a return to the natural, thus making present modes of life artificial, is to smuggle in an illegitimate assumption against the latter.
It is the habit of a portion of the Socialist party to represent the laborer as the epitome of all the virtues, the capitalist as his moral opposite. This view cannot be other than erroneous, considered from any standpoint. Moral evil cannot affect one part of a closely united society without affecting the other parts also, though it may assume different forms in different parts. This should be, in reality, the Socialist's strongest argument, and is, indeed, one which he constantly makes use of in other connections. If the steady labor of one class is often associated with certain virtues, there are many elements of its surroundings which tend to develop and encourage certain vices also; and if, on the other hand, excessive wealth is often the condition, as well as the result, of selfishness, still the relief from material anxieties may be used, on the other hand, as opportunity for other useful labor, and leaves room, indeed, for a development of finer intellectual and moral qualities. To reply that much greater good would accompany other conditions is irrelevant; for we are not now comparing actualities with ideals, but one class of people with another under existing circumstances.
A somewhat similar phase of idea to that just considered is found in the agitation against machinery. This agitation is not of recent date, however; it began over two centuries ago, and would, if it had succeeded, have deprived the world of nearly all the comforts and conveniences which have, since then, become possible. Doubtless the abolishment of machinery would temporarily furnish labor to all the unemployed. Indeed, it has been computed, from facts supplied by the statistical bureau of Berlin, that it would require about double the number of inhabitants now on the face of the globe to perform the labor accomplished by the steam works of the principal civilized lands. But the increase of the earth's inhabitants depends, to a great extent, on the favorable or unfavorable circumstances of the environment; and we cannot suppose otherwise than that the sudden accession of abundant means of livelihood would cause a very great acceleration of the rate of increase and so a speedy return of the old problem. Even supposing that a certain recklessness of sexual indulgence would be done away with under better circumstances which afforded access to other means of pleasure than the purely physical, this over-indulgence leads quite as often to sterility and disease as to excess of offspring. Habit and opinion not being matters of instantaneous or even rapid change, the new order of society would very largely depend upon the character and ideas acquired under the old order, and population must increase with a rapidity fostered by an immense multiplication of regular marriages, and by more healthful surroundings for offspring at all ages. Unchecked, as hitherto, by the excessive mortality due to famine, filth, and neglect, it must soon arrive at a point where the questions of competition again present themselves. But machinery is a relative term. Every tool and device for lightening labor is, in fact, a machine, and takes, by definition, from the labor of the world. When, therefore, we should find ourselves face to face with the former conditions, I do not see that any consistent course would lie before us but the doing away with our more complicated tools, and, later, with our less complicated ones, and so on, as the increase of the world's inhabitants brought again and again the recurrence of questions of competition, until we should arrive, at length, at that ancient state of things where all transport would be made by porters, land ploughed by the pointed stick, and clothes—if we consented to withdraw labor from the cultivation of the earth for the manufacture of such luxuries—would require for the preparation of each garment several weeks, months, or even years of work. I do not see where else the theory of the abolishment of machinery for the sake of supplying labor to the unemployed can logically and practically lead, especially as the withdrawal of machinery must mean, in the end, the withdrawal of those opportunities for cultivating the arts and sciences which the leisure from merely mechanical pursuits alone can give. Under more primitive conditions of labor, the ignorance of the masses must spread more and more, until its widening circle must take in the great majority of men, as was the case when these primitive conditions prevailed. In other words, the abolishment of machinery means social retrogression, and, if affording temporary relief, leaves the race, in the end, on a lower plane of evolution, with the work of advancement to its former plane all to do over again.