A Review of the Systems of Ethics Founded on the Theory of Evolution

by Cora May Williams

If we imagine, for a moment, a whole society of savages suddenly introduced to a set of ideal laws by—we will say—some one individual from out an ideal society, who proclaims these laws and then returns to his own land, we shall not be able to imagine such laws remaining in force for any great length of time. If we suppose our own ancestors of the stone age introduced to our own laws by some one from out the present century returning to them as Mark Twain's Yankee returned to the court of King Arthur, we shall not imagine those laws as very long binding; and nothing could be truer to facts of psychology than the gigantic tragedy with which Mr. Clemens' book closes. No set of ideal laws introduced to an inideal society can be regarded as the "environment" of that society, which shall render it ideal. The more democratic a country, the more the passing, even, of a law or measure depends on the general sentiment; but many laws have been passed and many measures of government projected which have failed completely in administration because they were too far in advance of the general moral status. External morality of institutions and internal morality of character in society as a union of many individuals can only increase together, and gradually, by reciprocal action. In other words, the evolution necessary to the attainment of any ideal condition where poverty and crime are eliminated must be internal as well as external; and this is a fact that few Socialists recognize, at least practically, and that even the Fabians, accepting as they do the theory of evolution, continually fail to take account of in the application of their theories. They have indeed received the theory of evolution as regards external institutions; but, with perhaps a few exceptions, they have not regarded it in its inner, psychical significance. This is made evident by the continual recurrence of such references and remarks as we have criticised, which trace all evil to our "artificial system," refer to character as bad because "saturated with immoral principles by our commercial system,"[279] and reckon upon a change in this "artificial system" which, first accomplished, will cause a revolution in character. The acknowledgment of the necessity of evolution is, for the most part, forgotten in practical discussion; and the reason of this forgetfulness is easily understood from just the fact noticed—that the evolution, the necessity of which is recognized, is the mere external one of state institutions. Character is regarded in any case as a dependent, an effect; and this is in accordance with the old theory of the will as passive and as determined by the rest of nature, never as the active and independent factor determining and instituting. Thus, even a Fabian is likely to look with only half-approval at institutions like the Society for Ethical Culture, which has for its first object the cultivation of character; and many Socialists, until very lately the great majority, have regarded all improvements which did not bear directly towards Socialism as mere temporizing. The socialistic government was to be first established, and this would perform all the reforms necessary; or, rather, evils would disappear of themselves when once it was established. Fortunately, Socialism is itself undergoing an evolution.

But again, even those Socialists who talk of an evolution up to "socialistic forms" are continually found representing the ease with which government might, at present, take over the business of the nation. This is the natural result of the fact that the evolution recognized as necessary is only that of institutions, not that of character. The perception, on the other hand, that character is not, at present, capable of receiving or administering a socialistic form of government, is the reason of much of the resistance opposed to a party which, whatever a very small minority may claim as to theory, is practically endeavoring to force a system of government upon peoples not prepared for carrying it out with success. There are few governments, as yet, where even the democratic idea has sufficiently taken root to render the people at all used to self-government; and where they exist, the good they confer is not unmixed. I am not advancing an argument against democracy; but the defects of human nature which render its benefits of a mixed character must hinder in an incomparably greater measure a scheme which would place all power, even to the control of all wealth, in the hands of the administration; in other words, Socialism, if introduced to-day, could no more get rid of poverty and crime than democracy can get rid of them; and the gulf between the old and the new order being so great a one, the danger attending the new institutions would be particularly great. As Höffding remarks, it is not proved, because we intrust many things to state-government (with mixed good and evil) that it would be well to intrust the management of all matters to it. The Socialists propose to secure the perfection of system by making the government responsible to the people and the executive responsible to the government; but in democratic governments this principle is already carried out. Are we to suppose that the possession of still greater power and so still larger opportunities for fraud would afford the people greater security? Or how could the responsibility of the legislative and administrative functions to the people be still better secured than it is anywhere at present? The power of the people might be extended to include interference with both functions. But the socialistic government must, in any case, be excessively complicated; even Bellamy, whose government is much simplified by the supposition of the immediate attainment of an ideal character through the action of the social "environment," designates the scheme as "very elaborate." The difficulties of direct interference with the legislative functions in countries larger than Switzerland (where the referendum is occasionally resorted to), the difficulties of deciding on evidence before the court of the whole country in cases where the power of deposition might be used, the labor of arriving at a general verdict about which there should be no dispute, the strife and party feeling which must be thus continually engendered in the contest of opinions as long as men have not attained to an ideal character, would be likely, if such powers of national interference were often exercised, to keep the country in a state of continual uproar; while, on the other hand, if peace were purchased at the sacrifice of the power of direct interference, the machinery of state would no more than at present secure the nation from fraud, which must be greater as the power in the hands of a socialistic government would be larger. To the man of principle, it would doubtless appear foolish as well as wrong to sacrifice position, comparative comfort, and the esteem of fellow-citizens, for mere gain in wealth by dishonest means; but as long as there are many men by whom temporary gratification is often preferred even at the sacrifice of more lasting pleasure, and selfish pleasure is of more account than public esteem, as long as there are men to whom the element of excitement in crime is an attraction, as long as women are often unscrupulous and men the slaves of passion, as long as there are those who find the power to command by means of wealth more desirable than security in moderation, and as long as there remain others who will bow down to wealth fraudulently acquired, as long, too, as there are countries anywhere upon the earth in which malefactors may find refuge, the chances of fraud under a socialistic government are large. They must be particularly large where "inordinate luxury and the hope of it" are abolished; for, leaving out of account all question as to the morality of luxury, there are undoubtedly many men who desire as much of it as they can obtain. Bellamy discreetly supposes his ideal government to be adopted at once by all nations, thus paying no attention to the obviously very different degrees of social development represented by those different nations. But as long as any communication of trade whatever existed with nations still under the old régime, ingenuity could devise ways of theft, and foreign lands would constitute a goal for the enjoyment of the spoil. There are, and will be for very many years yet, plenty of places of refuge for the clever thief. Moreover, communication and commerce with other lands not only being necessary but becoming daily more and more desirable, a law excluding all foreigners would be difficult to establish; and this being the case, the social equilibrium must be continually disturbed, and inner character affected by the influx from other nations.

There is another general objection to socialistic schemes which bears on the point of their application to present conditions, namely, their arbitrary nature, the manner in which they would decide summarily many questions on which society is at present most at variance and different individuals entertain the most conflicting opinions, the comparative value of which can be tested only by experiment. This feature of Socialism is inseparable from the general condition of things. Many feel, therefore, and feel with reason, that sympathy is not yet sufficiently general and strong to warrant the entrusting of all interests of the individual to a majority of his fellow-men. It is even a question whether free scientific investigation would not be imperilled if some Socialists had their way. It is not long since that I heard an "evolutionary" Socialist expressing his opinion emphatically that the waste of time and energy in the pursuit of ambitions never to be realized was so undesirable that he questioned whether the individual ought to be permitted to choose a vocation in which it is believed he will fail. But the element of interest that causes a man to choose a given occupation is the very factor which most often results in efficient labor; and it is the testimony of many that the perseverance possible through love of their work has prevailed in direct opposition to the predictions of onlookers. Thousands of men have succeeded against all expectations. It is by no means those who apparently possess most ability who succeed best or profit the world most by their work. There are projects of arbitrariness very similar in sort and nearly as great in degree in all the Socialistic schemes in which the questions of the day are furnished with cut and dried answers. It is strange, for instance, that American advocates of women's right to a free choice of a vocation have failed to discover with what dexterity Bellamy avoids the whole question of women's capacity, by the discreetly blind remark that they are not only inferior to men in strength, but "further disqualified in special ways" (a formula which the author finds so successful that he repeats the words in a subsequent essay), while he appears practically to side with the Conservatives in thought on the matter. The government of Bellamy provides, furthermore, that one can change his vocation only up to the age of thirty-five, and even to this date only "under proper restrictions"; the experience of mankind has shown, however, that a man's best inspirations may come to him after this age, and lead to a development of talents heretofore unsuspected even by himself. The "aids to choice" in a state may be as numerous as you like; but they can never give a man of thirty the experience and mental development of the man of thirty-five, thirty-seven, or forty. The assistance which the judgment of others can give in the choice of a vocation is, for the most part, of little use to the adult; and whatever the minor advantages of an elimination of the certain amount of disturbance consequent on changes of occupation, the harm to society of restriction on efforts in any direction of useful labor must more than counterbalance these.

The method of newspaper-editing in Bellamy's state is also peculiar. The people who desire any special interest to be brought before the public choose an editor, establish a newspaper "reflecting their opinions and devoted especially to their locality, trade, or profession," and when the editor fails to give satisfaction in his publications, simply "remove him." This method would, I fear, scarcely meet the desires of any editor possessed with a brain, and to whom his profession was something more than a matter of mere automatism.

Indeed, the whole order of Bellamy's state is of too military and automatic a character; though it is easy, in a work of fiction, to represent the members of his industrial army as universally content and universally virtuous.

It is in consequence of the more or less distinct perception that, for all these reasons, human nature of the present time is unsuited to the absolute coöperation involved in Socialism, that many Individualists advocate a continuation of the system of competition. From ancient savagery up to our present half-civilization has been a gradual evolution, not of government with character as its effect, but of government and character as coördinates, or (if we view them in another light) as advancing by mutual action and reaction; and our future must constitute a like gradual evolution (though with continual acceleration of velocity) of character and government as coördinates; the attempt of individuals or parties to force one of these coördinates before the other must always result in failure. It is true, as Mr. Grant Allen stated in a lecture before the London Fabians—designed as refutation of the Individualistic theory that competition is necessary for the best social evolution—that natural selection favors coöperation,[280] that is, that those societies in which the efforts of individuals are most supplemented by the aid of others, have the best chance of life and health both as wholes and in their individual units; but this fact does not do away with the necessity of the evolution of coöperation coördinate with character. "We know now," says another Fabian, "that in natural selection at the stage of development where the existence of civilized man is at stake, the units selected from are not individuals but societies."[281] This, however, we do not know. Natural selection acts on cell, on individual, and on all the various social units to which men combine, in their multiplicity of relations. It does not cease to act on individuals because it acts also on social organizations, any more than it ceases to act on cells in acting on organisms as wholes; it is only true that the line of the preservation of the individual and that of the preservation of the whole of society approach each other more and more nearly with social progress. The tendency of the whole of social evolution has been one of increasing coöperation coördinate with increasing social instinct or sympathy in all its complex relations and dependences; and with the attainment of the maximum of sympathy we can not well imagine or suppose anything else than the maximum of coöperation. On the other hand, the gradual nature of social evolution up to this maximum, and the contest of differing opinions, secures a sufficient experiment, and so the protection of the people from tyranny under another name; for it is not the emotional nature of man alone which must grow to greater harmony, it is also his intellectual nature; as opinions are brought nearer and nearer to each other by mutual criticism, men become more capable of coöperation; and this intellectual agreement represents the line of adjustment or natural selection, since it is the conclusion reached by means of experience—the common knowledge bought through the practical application of various principles. A tribe of savages would be incapable of administration of the government of our so-called civilized states, as also of obedience to it:—both because the individual would rebel in opinion and in emotion at the barriers imposed by it, and because the functions of administration in the hands of savages would tend to injustice that would be greater as the sphere of government exceeded that to which the tribe had been used; and for similar reasons, the present age is incapable of that maximum of coöperation in all relations which is involved in Socialism. Even the æsthetic use of wealth, moderation and taste in enjoyment, must be learned by degrees; it cannot be infused by any government. The savage envies, in our more civilized states, chiefly the opportunities for the gorging of good things and for self-adornment which they afford; and the savage lack of self-control where alcohol is concerned, is proverbial; the average of more civilized societies shows a much greater self-control and moderation in the face of opportunities of purely sensual gratification, and a much greater love of more æsthetic and more moral pleasures. Or rather, we should perhaps say, as before, the sensuality becomes more refined, and is gratified in more moral ways, through its organization with higher instincts. It is not among the wealthier classes, who have had the use of wealth, that taste is poorest; on the contrary, the average of taste is smaller, the outlay for foolish ornament of all sorts larger in proportion to means, in the poorer classes; and were these classes to come without change of character into possession of considerable means of enjoyment, it is to be suspected that expenditure for tasteless adornments would, in many cases, and especially among the women, precede and exceed expenditure for higher things.

And this brings me to a more especial consideration of that very large portion of the Socialist party who acknowledge no necessity for an evolution up to Socialism in any sense, but desire a revolution. Bellamy distinctly denies the necessity of an evolution, and many of his followers agree with him on this point; but the revolution he believes in and hopes for is a bloodless and peaceful one. To this conception the preceding objections sufficiently apply.

A revolution in the ordinary sense of the word is always, however, the sign of powerful opposition between two parties, of which one may gain the immediate ascendancy by force; but will surely be exposed, afterwards, to the long-enduring hatred, opposition, and revenge of a strong minority, that will make itself felt with an energy greatly increased by the vindictiveness which naturally follows on war and defeat. France is still suffering from her revolutions even at this length of time after their occurrence. Where the people have no vote and real influence upon the government, and even the expression of opinion is restricted by law, so that to gain an influence is practically impossible, a political revolution may take place; but its results, both immediate and remote, must contain a very large modicum of evil even if some advance is accomplished by it. A revolution to obtain the establishment of absolute coöperation would be self-contradictory, and the self-contradiction of character implied in it would result in its failure; it could not happen in a country at all prepared for absolute coöperation, or even for a very high degree of coöperation. A revolution in any country at the present time would have to reckon with all sorts of depraved tastes and vicious characters, matters of organization and inheritance which neither in the individual, nor in the line of descent, could be gotten rid of in a day; which must, indeed, affect society for many generations, and before they could be eradicated would do away with Socialism or destroy its success. Poverty and crime cannot be banished by any device of mere legislation; only with time and by gradual means can they be gotten rid of.

Socialism is, then, as a whole, too impetuous, if Individualism is, as a whole, too reluctant. But Socialism is undergoing an evolution, as has been said. Arising as the voice of the poor, the oppressed, the miserable, the hungry, it has made itself heard and has materially modified public opinion, while it has, at the same time, been itself modified, according to the universal law of the equilibration of forces. Forced by necessity practically, and gradually altered by criticism as to theory, it is coming to give its energies less and less to a consideration of the final socialistic government which should do away with the necessity of further reforms because accomplishing an immediate and universal one, and devoting them more and more to present measures of reform, many of which are simply liberal measures proposed by non-Socialists and such as would have had no meaning to the majority of Socialists of a few years past, or would have been regarded by them as useless temporizing. In its mutual action and reaction with Individualism, it will doubtless still more modify and be modified, so that more and more ground for united action will be won. The cause of the laborer is the most urgent of our times; but increase of wages will be of very little use except as it is steadily accompanied by aids to knowledge and self-direction, aids in the formation of character, in the use of self and of the means of enjoyment; otherwise, the laborer must continually defeat his own cause, and renew the old problems.

The education of self-control must begin with the child. The education of the child is never to be considered by itself; the child is not one individual and the adult another, neither is there any dividing line between childhood and maturity; and that which the individual is to become in later life he must grow towards as a child. The habits which the man would exercise the child must learn. In Germany, where the military spirit prevails, implicit obedience to authority is ranked among the highest virtues, and habits of strict military discipline are carried into the family as well as exercised in all public relations. In countries where more democratic ideas are strong, the older methods are giving way to milder ones. These sometimes degenerate into the opposite extreme of careless indulgence, with bad results; but taken on the average, their beneficial influence is seen in the greater alertness, originality, and openness of the children brought up under them. Frankness and originality are on the average incompatible with harsh or stern treatment; the latter is more likely to generate craftiness, fawning hypocrisy, or an unloving and unlovable rigidity of character; and any of these qualities is compatible with secret self-indulgence in any form, wherever this is possible. Only an education in freedom can teach the use of freedom. The old, hard, religious idea of "breaking the will" (the natural outcome of a religion based on blind faith, "fear," and unquestioning obedience) was a sad blunder; what we need is not less but more will, with better direction of it. True, the wisdom of experience must always guide the young; but its guidance, to attain the best results, should make itself as little felt as authority as possible, and should withdraw into the background as early as possible. Not that it should degenerate into slipshod yielding to importunities, but that it should endeavor to give reasons rather than mere rules of conduct, to instil principles and ideas rather than laws, and so to develop the power of self-direction. It is often objected that the young child is incapable of comprehending principles; but so is the infant incapable of comprehending speech, and yet it is through the use of speech to the infant that comprehension is gradually attained; as sounds are fixed in the receptive memory of the infant, and slowly acquire meaning, so ethical principles, simply stated, may be communicated, and will be better and better understood as the child develops. This method of instruction is, rightly understood, as far from weakness as it is from tyranny and dogmatism; indeed, no method demands in the instructor so much care, thought, and patience. It must be judicious and consistent, never capricious, and its fundamental principle must be the cultivation of justice through justice, and so of kindness through kindness. Especially should the young be prepared in the home, by self-knowledge, for the trials and temptations which menace in the world outside, through the passions of maturity. To the earnest man or woman, nothing appears more trivial than the false shame which hinders, even in the home and between parents and children, the moral discussion of some of the most important of human relations for good or evil. To the pure all things are pure; but, unfortunately, it is also true that to the impure all things are impure. Nothing is more injurious to children than the morbid curiosity stimulated through the secrecy and deception which are ordinarily practised, and which inspires them with the sense of a mystery that is half criminal, half sacred. Curiosity grows under such tuition, a disproportionate interest is awakened and often comes to be satisfied from sources outside the home, with an admixture of deplorable vulgarity, the influence of which is not soon lost. Such a tuition tends, not to purity of thought, but to impurity, and often directly to vice. The mystery with which natural, and what may be perfectly moral, relations is thus invested, is often the source of a fatal attraction to ignorant youth. What we need to make out of our children is not puppets of which the world as well as ourselves may pull the wires, but earnest and self-comprehending men and women, self-reliant and fearless because life is no strange country filled with unknown shadows and pitfalls, but a pleasant land, whose dangers, known, may be avoided, and the road through which leads to a comprehended and desirable goal.