Now that the terrible conflict has ceased, we pause and reflect. Millions are weary, millions are old, millions are broken, millions are disappointed, and the weary ones, the old ones, the broken ones and the disappointed ones have lost their vision and have abandoned their faith. Yet life sweeps on—its unity unimpaired, its continuity unbroken, its force unchecked, its vigor unabated. Multitudes have been born since the end of the Great War, and other multitudes, who were babes in arms when the Great War began, are growing into young manhood and womanhood. The war, with its hardships and its fearful losses, is history. The present, merging endlessly with the future, makes of each day a to-morrow in which hundreds of millions of those who now inhabit the earth will live.
How?
That is the question which the world to-day faces. The answer is in our hands.
Humanity has always been face to face with the bread and butter problem because people must have food and clothing and a roof over their heads or pay the penalty in physical suffering. Under the present world order, for lack of these simple economic requirements, millions of poverty-stricken workers perish each year, of slow starvation and exposure in Paris, London, Chicago, Tokyo; of famine in China, Egypt and India.
Some issues present themselves for consideration only occasionally. The demand for economic necessaries each day recurs with tireless insistence in the life of every individual. Men have learned this fact through frightful experiences, and they look forward with hope or with dread to the comfort of plenty or to the disaster of want. So effectually have these forces entered into everyday life that they color all aspects of human existence, and people continually think and act in terms of economic hardship or of economic well-being. This simple fact of economic determinism—the influence of the livelihood struggle upon the conduct of individuals and of societies—plays a fateful part in shaping both biography and history.
The economic issues before primitive society were comparatively simple ones. The producer—the hunter, herder, farmer—snared his game and cooked it, tended his goats and lived on their milk and flesh, planted and reaped his crops, and used them to sustain life. Later, the baker, the saddler, the tailor and the carpenter spent their energies in producing the articles of their trade and in disposing of them. The herdsman could live on his hills, the farmer in his valleys and the artisans in their towns, content and at peace with the remainder of the world, neither knowing nor caring what was happening to their fellow dwellers on the planet. Confined within its narrow bounds, primitive thought was as local as primitive life.
But such isolation is no longer possible. The currents of economic life, like most other phases of human activity, have swept beyond the local forests, the grass lands, the tilled fields, the oven and the carpenter's bench, and gaining momentum in their ever-widening course, they have circled the world.
3. Worldizing Economic Activity
The past hundred years have witnessed a speedy worldizing of human affairs built upon a transformation in the ways of making a living. These changes have been effected by the industrial revolution, which, toward the end of the eighteenth century began to make itself felt in Great Britain. Its influence spread over Europe, America and Australia during the last three-quarters of the nineteenth century, but it did not reach Japan until 1860. Almost within the memory of the present generation, therefore, the scope of trade, manufacture and finance, the search for markets, the organization and unification of labor and of popular thinking about economic problems, have passed from a local into a world field.