Transport and Communications.—The most conspicuous changes in our mode of life have been brought about by improved means of transport. Railways and steamships have become essential to Great Britain, largely owing to the fact that food-supplies have to be purchased in exchange for exported manufactures. But even in non-industrial countries the railway has entered very largely into the life of the people. It is part of the essential attribute of life which seeks diversity and a fuller activity of the senses. Life is, in effect, prolonged when it is made to contain more and more detail. The social life of a person is roughly measured by the number of people with whom he converses in the course of a day. Improved transport means facilities for extending this number. It also means an enlargement of a person’s sphere of influence, of his “area of effective occupation.” In business, it gives an opportunity of increasing turnover, and thus reducing costs. It also facilitates competition, both in buying and selling, and thus tends to enforce the law of supply and demand and other enactments of what used to be called the “dismal science,” but now ranks as the most “actual” of all the sciences.
Postal and telegraphic facilities have the same general effect of diversifying and extending life. The telephone has produced an entirely new form of social intercourse, and a new privileged class. By acquiring a telephone number, we obtain entrance into a hall where rapid and varied communication becomes an abundant source of activity, information, and amusement.
Increased facilities of this kind also tend to cement a nation of one language into a closely organized whole, so that its cohesion and its influence abroad are strengthened. The “temperature” of the national life is raised, and it increases in proportion. An increased energy also accelerates the rate of progress, so that it tends to spread like a fire. What this acceleration will mean we can as yet only dimly surmise. A time will come, no doubt, when we may crowd into an hour a variety of experiences which our ancestors would have extended over a lifetime. We need not necessarily do so, but the mere fact that it is possible will add a zest and a richness to life such as we, with all our advantages, can as yet hardly conceive. But the general effect will be to reduce more and more the limitations now imposed upon us by space. It will no doubt be eventually possible to get into communication with anybody on earth at a moment’s notice, provided that person is willing.
Privacy.—The last proviso is important. Civilization not only makes us more accessible to those we appreciate, but also makes us less accessible to those of whom we disapprove. An increase in our area of choice would be of little value if everybody else could choose to intrude upon us at any time or place. A limitation of social intercourse to a chosen few, or its total cessation for the time required for rest and recuperation in a strenuous life is one of the greatest boons one can desire. The rank and file is more gregarious than the élite and, as one of the ideals of progress is to raise the masses towards the level occupied by the élite, the extension of facilities for seclusion is of the essence of progress. Hence commons and open spaces are provided in and around well-planned cities. Houses are provided with sound-proof walls, and gardens are protected as much as possible from “overlooking.” A very modern problem of the same kind is the protection of wireless listeners from oscillations produced in neighbouring receiving sets.
Clothing.—The present generation of civilized humanity justly prides itself on its sensible style of clothing. Although masculine clothing contains a number of “vestigial” elements which are absurd survivals of former necessities, the practice, observed more especially in Great Britain, of wearing a variety of apparel suited to special occasions and occupations adds a certain elasticity to fashions which otherwise are almost comically rigid. If a man wore a wreath of flowers round his head instead of a hat he would not walk fifty yards in any London street without being arrested for “insulting behaviour” or “conduct likely to cause a breach of the peace.” Yet a woman could do so with impunity if she did it with the necessary air of assurance.
The future of clothing is largely affected by social problems. Masculine clothing ceased to be demonstrative in Europe shortly after the French Revolution. While aristocracy flourished, it paraded itself aggressively in velvet and ruffles and powdered wigs. In modern times it is bad form to strut and swagger, except on very special occasions. Good clothing is not aggressively ornate or expensive. Its quality is a matter of lines and cut and finish. Its preciousness is disguised from the uninitiated. It is like the sober and almost dingy town houses of the nobility, whose splendour is only shown to favoured friends and trusted servants. In 1794 the dress of the “aristo” was a passport to the guillotine. In later and wiser days it is a disguise to deceive the tax-collector and the demagogue, and to lull their prying rapacity into inactivity.
Feminine attire follows the same principles, modified by the essential differences between the sexes. The ideal of a well-dressed woman varies widely with her surroundings. In bad weather out of doors, or in an unsympathetic crowd, her garments will be a defensive armour designed to reveal as little of her personality as is compatible with her purpose. Under more favourable conditions, they will become a setting made as suitable as possible to the peculiar qualities and attractions of the jewel they are supposed to contain. Not every woman can, under present conditions, be beautiful, but she can suggest beauty at every turn, remind us of beautiful things, and give us that feeling of holy calm which we experience in the presence of beauty, if she will but dress appropriately to the occasion and to her own personality.
These considerations must affect our view of the appropriate styles of A.D. 2025. Dress appropriate to the occasion! Dress is, after all, a sort of extension of the physical personality. The body of a naked child at play is the most perfect thing in beauty that can be seen. All its muscles adapt themselves instantly to its activities. Everything is appropriate and harmonious. A thin and clinging covering would detract but little from its grace of movement and expression, and might, indeed, add something of force and swiftness that cannot be perceived in the mere play of muscles. Thus the plumes of a Red Indian add to the sense of speed and purpose conveyed by his movements.