Bellamy holds that human nature in its essential quality is good, not bad, and that men are naturally generous, not selfish; pitiful, not cruel; godlike in aspirations, moved by divine impulses of goodness, images of God and not the travesties upon Him which they have seemed.[X-35] It is our economic order which has fostered shameless self-assertion, mutual depreciation, a stunning clamor of conflicting boasts, and a stupendous system of brazen beggary.

In three utopias, H. G. Wells portrays societary conditions that are kinetic rather than static and world-wide rather than local in scope.[X-36] While the author provides a changed economic system, socialistic in nature, he urges that changed social attitudes are also needed.

In the utopian social thought that has been presented in this chapter and in similar works which are not mentioned here there is generally displayed (1) a common weakness of impracticability under current circumstances, (2) an over-emphasis upon simply changing the economic order, and (3) static rather than dynamic principles. The strength of utopian social thought is found (1) in its drastic criticism of current social evils, (2) in its relative harmlessness at the given time, (3) in the force of its indirect suggestion, (4) in the widespread hearing which it secures, and (5) in its social idealism.

Chapter XI
Individualistic Social Thought

At the dawn of the Renaissance, tradition and dogmatism were ruling mankind. Here and there, however, individuals were perceiving the nature of the bondage. Occasionally a cry for individual freedom was uttered. Petrarch dared to say that the world was made for man’s enjoyment. The early Teutons crudely developed the idea of personal liberty. In France a movement arose which culminated in the doctrines of natural rights and “Back to Nature.” The stress upon individualism in England became so deeply ingrained that it exists today as a powerful form of traditionalism. The United States was founded, in part, upon a doctrine of natural rights.

Absolutely unlike Sir Thomas More in many ways, Niccolo Machiavelli (1469–1527), an Italian contemporary, broke with tradition and received the sobriquet, the Galileo of social science. Unfortunately, many people think of the Italian writer in terms of the adjective which bears his name, Machiavellism, or political intrigue. While he deserves this reputation, he also should be considered in another light. He cut loose from the customary ways of thinking of his time and asserted that it is not necessary to take all things on fiat or alleged divine decree. Although this may be dangerous doctrine, it serves a useful and constructive purpose when people are ruled by political and ecclesiastical autocrats. Machiavelli was no idealist in the accepted sense of the term, but a man who mixed with people, traveled extensively, and studied actual conditions. He declared that people should be considered as they are, and not according to false teachings about them.

A century before the time of Sir Francis Bacon, the inaugurator of the so-called inductive or scientific method of study, Machiavelli was observing human conditions and upon the basis of these observations was drawing conclusions. He believed that it does not pay to be guided in one’s conduct by abstract ethics or impracticable ideals—and said so, in an age when imprisonment, exile, or death awaited anyone who opposed the autocratic authorities. From abstract ethics, Machiavelli swung to the extreme of concrete expediency. He lived and thought in the exigencies of the moment. He is an example of one who reacts so strongly against the stress and strain of the hour that he cannot get the larger vision that is necessary for balanced thinking on fundamental issues.

Machiavelli wrote on the subject of leadership and government. He advocated either an autocratic or democratic form of government—according to the conditions of the time and place. In the Prince he described with noteworthy accuracy the traits and methods of a leader whose constituents must be treated with absolute authority. In the Discourses he dealt with a democratic-republican type of leadership and control.

The succesful prince, or leader, in the selfish sense, makes himself both beloved and feared by his people.[XI-1] On occasion he uses force and even fraud. Sometimes he must either exterminate or be exterminated. He must repeal or suppress old laws and make new ones to fit the social situation. He seeks to be considered merciful rather than cruel. He exercises universal pity in order to prevent social disorders from occurring and producing rapine and murder.[XI-2] He does not allow his mercy to be taken advantage of by ungrateful and hypocritical persons. He is strong-minded; he is either a sincere friend or a generous foe. He is paternalistic, urging that his subjects be well-fed and have a good livelihood,[XI-3] thus gaining and maintaining the affection of the people. In international affairs he acts with a strong hand, fortifying well his city or nation, and providing good laws for internal growth.[XI-4] He errs grossly, however, in his fundamental philosophy that any plan or action that is for the welfare of the state, or nation, considered as a supreme unit of authority in itself, is morally sound.

Sir Francis Bacon, whose contribution to utopian social thought has been indicated in the foregoing chapter, placed all social and sociological thinkers under deep obligations by his emphasis upon inductive reasoning. He helped to free the individual from control by dogma and superstition. He provided the individual with a technique for securing a new sense of individual freedom. In freeing himself the individual discards his irrational pre-judgments, whether socially inherited or individually developed. He protects himself from anthropomorphic judgments, i. e., from judgments which he makes because he looks upon life and the universe through human eyes. These pre-judgments are common to all mankind—they are “the idols of the tribe.” On the other hand, the individual avoids purely personal preferences, which he is likely to hold because of his own peculiar experiences, and which thus place him outside the pale of common experience—these are “the idols of the cave.”