2. As deduced from Class B. Here the word “right” is used to describe the method or object by which any desire may be realized. The requirements for membership in this class appear at first to be less rigid than was the case with Class A. The speed of motion that was stressed in the former class is inessential here, as well as the necessity of proceeding by the shortest course. Here also a beefy body is not as imperative as are skill and sagacity. But let us not make a favorite of either class before we have heard the whole story. And first let us ask, what is the typical action-pattern implied by Class B? The answer is not difficult to give. There is a phrase, “selective excitability,” which psychologists have long applied to the situation where a sensori-motor mechanism is attuned by practice to respond to one specific stimulus, and to be entirely unresponsive to others. We exhibit this selective excitability every time we take “our” hat from the crowded coat-room, choose “our” favorite cigar from a case full of attractive Havanas, or fumble thoughtfully in “our” pocket for a cent to give to the crouching beggar. In every such case, we are said to employ the “right” object and perform the “right” action. Actions of this sort involve choice, which as we have already hinted (See footnote, p. 32, Chap. II.), involves the use of one member of a pair of antagonistic muscles. Consequently, we may describe the action-pattern underlying the use of “right” in Class B as any sort of behavior which involves selective excitability and selective activity. So that whatever Class B lacks in generality as compared with Class A, is compensated for by an increase in precision and, what is equally important, by an economy of human energy in the pursuit of the desired object. The importance of this last factor has already been sufficiently hinted at in the quotation that appears on the title-page of this book.

3. As deduced from Class C. The change from Class A to Class B involved an increase in what is known as intelligence, that is, the ability to solve new problems. The change to Class C may be regarded as involving a continued advance of the same general character. But this change involves something more. For, as we have already stated, “right” now becomes “descriptive of any statement which reports the facts: of any opinion or judgment that is correct: and of any person who judges, thinks, or acts in accordance with the facts or truth of a matter.” Two changes in emphasis are consequently to be noted here. First, the word “right” is applied to utterances rather than to deeds alone; and second, a metonomy is introduced in the application of our concept to persons who make correct statements. This shift of emphasis from an action to the description of it, and from the description to the describer need not cause us any difficulty, even though it envisages for us a million years of the education of the human race.

The success of our search for the meaning of our concept is here dependent upon the function of speech to imply and predict action,—a function which we have already commented upon in our second chapter. Words, like thoughts, are either reminiscent of overt action, or else they assist in preparing us for it. When, then, a man uses the word “right” to commend either statements or persons, it is the same as if he were to say: “Either there were, or there are, or there may be, objects and events as you describe, and I think as you do about them.” The action-pattern here implicated is plainly that of belief. It involves a lowered threshold with respect to the person or statement called “right,” and a correspondingly higher threshold toward those persons or statements which contradict what is accepted. And as was the case with Class B, this action-pattern involves the use of one of the halves of a system of antagonistic muscles, since the “emphasis here is upon true opinions and judgments in contrast to false ones.” This, however, is not all that can be said upon this point. For every case of belief is a case of constitutional readiness so to respond. And while we do not exactly know how the body provides such predeterminations, if the theory of action-patterns is sound, the conjecture is not unfounded that belief is a function of chronic postures maintained in the muscles of the voluntary system.

Evidences in favor of this conjecture are readily supplied from our everyday scrutiny of the faces of our fellow-men. The beggar’s hand is actually a different hand than the hand of the donor; as he sits on the sidewalk, his predetermination to receive alms is patent in the chronic posture of even his palm and fingers. The courtesan not only manifests her willingness to exchange smiles by the chronic postures in her eyelids and mouth, but with a fitness that a De Maupassant might celebrate, she also acquires a carriage that betokens her particular vocation. Contrariwise, the generous, affable man gives evidence that his traits are at least muscle-deep; while every actor will confess that if he gets into the adequate posture, the character he is depicting is automatically portrayed. Those who pray also confess that there are certain bodily attitudes which hinder, and others which assist, the flow of sentiment which they desire. Photographic evidences such as these, however, are not the only proofs we possess of postural predeterminations of action and thought, for it is sound physiology that in the multifariously complex musculature of the body, there are unnoticed postural tensions being generated and maintained all the while. And since, according to the all-or-none principle of nervous and muscular activity, every motor tendency is a truly positive physiological event, whenever we manifest belief, some part of the body is preparing to execute a movement appropriate to the assertion implied. Indeed, we may safely postulate that a large portion of what we call our individuality is a function of those chronic postures which our habits have hitherto established in our motor mechanism,—which postures ever thereafter determine what we shall do, say, and believe.

4. As deduced from Class D. Here the word “right” is used to signify “the hand which is normally the stronger,” whence, by association, it refers to a variety of related things, as hitherto indicated. We have previously noted that the concept “right” is a term we often use when the attainment of a purpose is under consideration, and here we again see the same motif displayed. Everybody knows that the “right” hand is important in the acquisition of skill of all sorts, and in getting in touch with the things we call “good.” Evidences of the paramount usefulness of the “right” hand to carry out overt actions are ubiquitous. Moreover, levers, pliers, and a hundred other tools are simply extensions of its functions and magnifications of its powers. What, then, are the action-patterns suggested by this use of our concept? The answer is extremely simple. The action-patterns we seek are the innumerable activities of the right hand itself. For, as we have previously shown, even to think of the hand involves neuro-muscular activity in it. What the right hand does, is what the concept “right,” as applied to the hand, means. And if, for any reason, the “right” hand is incapacitated or missing, some other part of the body executes the appropriate gesture or manœuvre.

5. As deduced from Class E. The transition from Class D to Class E is made on the basis of a common element that is shared by both. We have just seen that the “right” hand is the stronger and the more adroit, and that consequently it is the one more adequately equipped to turn our wishes into wills. No logician, then, is required to convince us that legal “right,” in the sense of being equivalent to might, connotes the same sort of strength and force as are involved in the grasp and tug of the hand. Were the policeman the pure embodiment of legal “rights,” the action-patterns implied by Class E would be easy to determine, since they would be simply the total behavior of that functionary while on his beat. The problem before us is, to be sure, not quite so easy of solution as reference to the policeman would make it, but nevertheless, our previous discussion of legal “right” has hinted just what that solution is to be. For legal “rights” are one and all concerned with the security of whatever things a man calls his, together with the adjustment of conflicting claims regarding them. To enumerate in detail all the action-patterns here implied would be equivalent to making an inventory of all the deeds that had ever been performed to preserve property, life, and personality, and to maintain and restore peace and order in society. Let the historian open his books and show us the panorama of these achievements. And while we should see upon many of his pages portrayals of torpid conservatism, ruthless domineering, and magnificent cunning, we should also behold examples of that impersonal referee of whom we have already spoken, whose business it is to persuade and oblige the disturbers of the social equilibrium to employ the methods and standards of conduct which have always marked free men. He who would clearly comprehend such a panorama must needs give it more than a fugitive glance; for as it required time to be created, so does it require time in which to be appreciated.

6. As deduced from Class F. Moral “rights” are all those unsecured claims and inexactly specified interests whose only protection is the approval and disapproval of the community, reinforced at times by an appeal to a super-human protagonist. A comparison between the motor-attitudes implied by Class E and Class F reveals several important differences. Juristic thinking, which we may for convenience characterize as the attitude implied by Class E, is on the whole logically coherent; moralistic thinking, on the contrary, commits every known logical fallacy. Again, juristic thinking is content to regard human problems capable of solution at the hands of human beings, and to consider that the verdicts of unruffled men and of men expert in their lines is final; while moralistic thinking is ever prone to employ methods which, on account of their provincialism and importunity, do not stand analysis at the hands of unbiased investigators. Finally, the “higher judge” which moralists assert stands behind the claims they make, is simply a misinterpretation of the meaning of long unrelieved tensions which have accumulated in their skeletal muscles. For while we do not declare that all claims unsecured by law are ethically invalid, we do nevertheless assert that the typical moralist’s attitude toward all such unsecured claims is not one that is suited to bridge the gap between our liquid matter and its good. Nevertheless, we may say without equivocation that behind every declaration of moral rights there is an anxiety lest some dependable good be lost, and this motor attitude we conceive to be the greatest common divisor of all the significations included under Class F.

7. As deduced from Class G. Although this class resembles the preceding one in that it refers to customs whose maintenance depends upon the approval and disapproval of the group, Class G lacks all of the fiercely Stoical and Puritanical elements found in Class F, just as it lacks the logical rigor pertaining to Class E. The action-patterns implied by this present class are rather those of a courteous gentleman, who persuades whenever he can by a gesture, but who does not try twice to persuade those who will not yield to that kind of a suggestion.

8. As deduced from Class H. Since “right” here signifies that which is convenient, desirable, favorable, etc., the action-patterns which it implies are practically identical with those of the first three classes of “good.” Certainly every example previously cited under this class points to an outgoing reaction.

9. As deduced from Class I. The adverbial use of our concept here implies merely a gesture of positive emphasis that may be added to any other action-pattern.