Chapter 2 (pages 24-38), “Byronic Unhappiness”
Enlightenment does not require unhappiness. “The wise man will be as happy as circumstances permit, and if he finds the contemplation of the universe painful beyond a point, he will contemplate something else instead [p. 24].” Those who attribute their unhappiness to a rational view of the world are mistaken. They are unhappy for some other reason, and that unhappiness leads them to focus only on the negative aspects of existence.
When in the mood that “all is vanity,” one does not escape through philosophy, but through the imperative for action. Only the comfortable, not those fighting for survival, think that all is vanity. People are adapted for struggle, and when everything comes without effort, one of the necessary inputs into happiness is lost: “to be without some of the things you want is an indispensable part of happiness [p. 27].” In a good mood, however, we can see how much is new under the sun, like airplanes, newspapers, and skyscrapers. There is no tragedy in the cycle of generations, each seeing its day in the sun. (Indeed, immortality would sap the joys from the world.) Reason counsels optimism as much as it does despair. Instability and falling incomes, however, tend to make for pessimistic attitudes.
Love contributes to happiness, and does so more now that Victorian attitudes towards sex and love have been falling out of favor. Love itself is a delight, though this is not its chief virtue. The absence of love is painful. “A man who has never enjoyed beautiful things in the company of a woman whom he loved has not experienced to the full the magic power of which such things are capable [p. 34].” Love is an antidote to egoism, and gives the lie to philosophies that suggest the highest good can come from within, or from outside of society – parental love is even more telling than romantic love in this regard.
The philosophy of the futility of endeavor has changed our relationship to drama. In Shakespeare’s time, people really could look on the death of a king as tragic and deeply meaningful. “The cosmic significance of an individual death is lost to us because we have become democratic, not only in outward forms but in our inmost convictions [p. 36].” Modern tragedy requires a community problem, not an individual misfortune – Russell cites approvingly “Massenmensch” by Ernst Toller (whom he also had kind words for in Unpopular Essays). Young intellectual writers who are drawn to a futile view of existence should get out in the world and struggle for the means to meet their physical needs. “I believe that after some years of such an existence, the ex-intellectual will find that in spite of his efforts he can no longer refrain from writing, and when this time comes his writing will not seem to him futile [p. 38].”
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Friday, November 28, 2008
The Conquest of Happiness, Chapter 1
Chapter One (pages 15-23), “What Makes People Unhappy?”
You might be happy yourself, but when you look around you can see that unhappiness abounds, even on holidays or at parties. The origin of some unhappiness lies in the social system, stemming, for instance, from the prevalence of war, economic exploitation, or poverty. This book will not deal with those big issues, however. The focus rather will be on how an individual person, unremarkable in wealth and health, can find happiness, given the prevailing social conditions. “My purpose is to suggest a cure for the ordinary day-to-day unhappiness from which most people in civilized countries suffer, and which is all the more unbearable because, having no obvious external cause, it appears inescapable [p. 17].”
Russell relates that he was unhappy as a child, and suicidal as an adolescent, though buoyed then by the desire to learn more mathematics. Now (1930) he is happy, and getting happier, it seems, chiefly “due to a diminishing preoccupation with myself [p. 18].” Self-absorption, whether in one’s perceived sins, or manifested as narcissism or megalomania, is quite common. The sinner may believe that his adult reason has allowed him to discard those nostrums taught to him in his infancy, but he still retains them. Pleasures, especially sex, he has learned to think of as wicked. He partakes, but cannot enjoy his transgressions. The only pleasure his early training permits him is his mother’s caresses. These are unattainable as an adult, and he cannot respect those who provide a substitute, his sexual partners. Liberation from these ingrained beliefs and desires is a necessary step for happiness.
Narcissists cannot love others, and lose interest in a romantic partner once they are sure that the partner loves them. Their work, sustained by the thought of the acclaim they will win from professional success, is undermined by their lack of interest in the subject itself: “…the man whose sole concern with the world is that it shall admire him is not likely to achieve his object [p. 21].” Extreme vanity leads to boredom, as activities cannot be enjoyed in themselves. The problem might stem from a lack of self-confidence, and could be cured by an infusion of self-respect. “But this is only to be gained by successful activity inspired by objective interests [p. 21].”
Many madmen and most great men have been megalomaniacs, focused on power and the inspiring of fear in others. Alexander the Great, differentiated from the lunatic by the fact that Alexander really could achieve domination, still could not achieve happiness, as his ambition outran his success. Any megalomaniac must also fail eventually, though this thought (and those who dare to speak it) can be repressed – while the psychological repression itself precludes happiness. Like self-love, love of power in moderation conduces to happiness; when all-consuming, however, it is disastrous.
What is the general lesson? “The typical unhappy man is one who, having been deprived in youth of some normal satisfaction, has come to value this one kind of satisfaction more than any other, and has therefore given to his life a one-sided direction, together with a quite undue emphasis upon the achievement as opposed to the activities connected with it [p. 22].” Narcissists and megalomaniacs believe that happiness is possible, though they employ unsuitable means for finding it. Many others give up even the thought of finding happiness. They seek distraction instead, perhaps in the “temporary suicide” of drunkenness. The first step for these discouraged souls is to convince them that happiness is desirable. Such persuasion might not be easy: “Men who are unhappy, like men who sleep badly, are always proud of the fact [p. 23].” But most people will seek happiness if they believe that it is attainable.
You might be happy yourself, but when you look around you can see that unhappiness abounds, even on holidays or at parties. The origin of some unhappiness lies in the social system, stemming, for instance, from the prevalence of war, economic exploitation, or poverty. This book will not deal with those big issues, however. The focus rather will be on how an individual person, unremarkable in wealth and health, can find happiness, given the prevailing social conditions. “My purpose is to suggest a cure for the ordinary day-to-day unhappiness from which most people in civilized countries suffer, and which is all the more unbearable because, having no obvious external cause, it appears inescapable [p. 17].”
Russell relates that he was unhappy as a child, and suicidal as an adolescent, though buoyed then by the desire to learn more mathematics. Now (1930) he is happy, and getting happier, it seems, chiefly “due to a diminishing preoccupation with myself [p. 18].” Self-absorption, whether in one’s perceived sins, or manifested as narcissism or megalomania, is quite common. The sinner may believe that his adult reason has allowed him to discard those nostrums taught to him in his infancy, but he still retains them. Pleasures, especially sex, he has learned to think of as wicked. He partakes, but cannot enjoy his transgressions. The only pleasure his early training permits him is his mother’s caresses. These are unattainable as an adult, and he cannot respect those who provide a substitute, his sexual partners. Liberation from these ingrained beliefs and desires is a necessary step for happiness.
Narcissists cannot love others, and lose interest in a romantic partner once they are sure that the partner loves them. Their work, sustained by the thought of the acclaim they will win from professional success, is undermined by their lack of interest in the subject itself: “…the man whose sole concern with the world is that it shall admire him is not likely to achieve his object [p. 21].” Extreme vanity leads to boredom, as activities cannot be enjoyed in themselves. The problem might stem from a lack of self-confidence, and could be cured by an infusion of self-respect. “But this is only to be gained by successful activity inspired by objective interests [p. 21].”
Many madmen and most great men have been megalomaniacs, focused on power and the inspiring of fear in others. Alexander the Great, differentiated from the lunatic by the fact that Alexander really could achieve domination, still could not achieve happiness, as his ambition outran his success. Any megalomaniac must also fail eventually, though this thought (and those who dare to speak it) can be repressed – while the psychological repression itself precludes happiness. Like self-love, love of power in moderation conduces to happiness; when all-consuming, however, it is disastrous.
What is the general lesson? “The typical unhappy man is one who, having been deprived in youth of some normal satisfaction, has come to value this one kind of satisfaction more than any other, and has therefore given to his life a one-sided direction, together with a quite undue emphasis upon the achievement as opposed to the activities connected with it [p. 22].” Narcissists and megalomaniacs believe that happiness is possible, though they employ unsuitable means for finding it. Many others give up even the thought of finding happiness. They seek distraction instead, perhaps in the “temporary suicide” of drunkenness. The first step for these discouraged souls is to convince them that happiness is desirable. Such persuasion might not be easy: “Men who are unhappy, like men who sleep badly, are always proud of the fact [p. 23].” But most people will seek happiness if they believe that it is attainable.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Next Up: The Conquest of Happiness
Must Stick With The Plan. Must Stick With The Plan. And so on. So The Conquest of Happiness it is. My copy is a Liveright Paperback (W.W. Norton), the reset version of 1996. The original copyright is listed as being issued to Horace Liveright, Inc., in 1930. We have come across Horace before, as the publisher of Marriage and Morals (just one year before The Conquest of Happiness) and also as an anti-censorship figure.
The 191 pages comprise 17 chapters plus a single-paragraph Preface; similar to the layout of Proposed Roads to Freedom, the chapters are divided into two sections. The first section (chapters 1 through 9) is “Causes of Unhappiness” and the second section (chapters 10 through 17) is, as you guessed, “Causes of Happiness.” Prior to the contents is an excerpt from Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass – an excerpt that suggests that non-human animals manage to avoid unhappiness. The Preface notes that The Conquest of Happiness is an effort to record thoughts “inspired by what I hope is common sense [p. 11].” Russell has written the book, he announces, in the belief “that many people who are unhappy could become happy by well-directed effort…[p. 11].”
Here are the titles of the 17 chapters:
1. What Makes People Unhappy?
2. Byronic Unhappiness
3. Competition
4. Boredom and Excitement
5. Fatigue
6. Envy
7. The Sense of Sin
8. Persecution Mania
9. Fear of Public Opinion
10. Is Happiness Still Possible?
11. Zest
12. Affection
13. The Family
14. Work
15. Impersonal Interests
16. Effort and Resignation
17. The Happy Man
Onwards to Part One, “Causes of Unhappiness.”
P.S. -- An electronic edition of The Conquest of Happiness is available from Questia, but I am not sure of the rules for access.
The 191 pages comprise 17 chapters plus a single-paragraph Preface; similar to the layout of Proposed Roads to Freedom, the chapters are divided into two sections. The first section (chapters 1 through 9) is “Causes of Unhappiness” and the second section (chapters 10 through 17) is, as you guessed, “Causes of Happiness.” Prior to the contents is an excerpt from Walt Whitman’s Leaves of Grass – an excerpt that suggests that non-human animals manage to avoid unhappiness. The Preface notes that The Conquest of Happiness is an effort to record thoughts “inspired by what I hope is common sense [p. 11].” Russell has written the book, he announces, in the belief “that many people who are unhappy could become happy by well-directed effort…[p. 11].”
Here are the titles of the 17 chapters:
1. What Makes People Unhappy?
2. Byronic Unhappiness
3. Competition
4. Boredom and Excitement
5. Fatigue
6. Envy
7. The Sense of Sin
8. Persecution Mania
9. Fear of Public Opinion
10. Is Happiness Still Possible?
11. Zest
12. Affection
13. The Family
14. Work
15. Impersonal Interests
16. Effort and Resignation
17. The Happy Man
Onwards to Part One, “Causes of Unhappiness.”
P.S. -- An electronic edition of The Conquest of Happiness is available from Questia, but I am not sure of the rules for access.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
Proposed Roads to Freedom, Full Time
My embrace of an asymmetrical approach to time has resulted in but three chapters being consumed since the halftime report – and much of the material in those chapters is developed or hinted at earlier in Proposed Roads to Freedom. Chapter VII, on science and art under socialism, appears to be visionary in at least two respects. One is how political control enervates (aboveground) art and literature – Russell accurately presages Soviet socialist realism. The second concerns the possibilities that lurk in increasing the scope of artistic and scientific freedom and unleashing creative potential in the public more broadly. Russell notes three elements that are needed to foster creativity: (1) the availability of technical training; (2) liberty in creative endeavors; and (3) the potential for some level of public approbation. I see in the widespread availability of computing power and the internet an outpouring of creativity that validates Russell’s perspective. (The ease of computing may have lowered technical barriers to creativity, though educational shortcomings with respect to both writing and mathematics still constrain some people from full participation. Russell believes that, under contemporaneous conditions, economic constraints preclude creative pursuits by most of the population.)
In international affairs (Chapter VI), we have not made much progress in Russell’s preferred direction of rendering war unthinkable – a direction that he believes we might travel in part through the creation of a transnational military force. Russell’s view that the elimination of private ownership of land and capital is a precondition for global peace cannot yet be falsified, though we can hope that it is false. Accepting Russell's contention, however, about the need for communal ownership to ensure peace, and assuming that this precondition is fulfilled, Russell still is skeptical that peace will reign on earth. Human nature night not allow it; Russell provides the wonderful ant colony analogy, where the cooperative ant society nevertheless destroys outside ants that stumble into its midst. Russell seems to hold a view that human nature is malleable via institutions and education -- but not unconstrainedly so. All-in-all, among the developed countries, I guess I would say that the past 60 years give us reason to hope that we can limit warfare, despite the persistence of capitalism and the lack of an effective unitary international military force. Perhaps this hope stems not from improved human nature but from increased destructiveness of weaponry, as Russell discusses elsewhere.
Also in Chapter VI, Russell identifies what came to be known as confirmation bias, the notion that we are much more skeptical towards new information that does not fit with our preconceived beliefs than we are towards similar information that conforms to those beliefs.
As noted at “half” time, many of the reforms that Russell sought have since taken place, though generally not within a socialist or syndicalist framework. Unemployment insurance has somewhat socialized the risk of unemployment. Public measures for child support, and much greater economic opportunities for women, have responded to problems that Russell identified (though his vision that housework would become publicly remunerated has not come to pass). Education in some countries is free of charge all the way through university, though competition for places in the best schools or for scholarships generally remains intense. Consistent with Russell's claims, Malthusian pressures have not undermined the utility of reforms that raise the living conditions of the working class.
As we have seen, Russell thought that a significant expansion in human freedom requires the elimination of private ownership of land and capital. In this regard, Russell appears to have been mistaken, in that the increased wealth and leisure made available to most members of rich countries have produced significantly more freedom without socializing property. Nevertheless, Russell’s chief contention – that individual freedom would be the main force in producing a better future – seems consistent with subsequent events.
Incidentally, following the index in Proposed Roads to Freedom are four pages of interesting advertisements for eight other books published by Henry Holt and Company. Three of the books are by Walter Lippmann -- one of them highly recommended by Theodore Roosevelt. The advertised books generally deal with topics such as labor unions or socialism that are related to the material in Proposed Roads to Freedom.
In international affairs (Chapter VI), we have not made much progress in Russell’s preferred direction of rendering war unthinkable – a direction that he believes we might travel in part through the creation of a transnational military force. Russell’s view that the elimination of private ownership of land and capital is a precondition for global peace cannot yet be falsified, though we can hope that it is false. Accepting Russell's contention, however, about the need for communal ownership to ensure peace, and assuming that this precondition is fulfilled, Russell still is skeptical that peace will reign on earth. Human nature night not allow it; Russell provides the wonderful ant colony analogy, where the cooperative ant society nevertheless destroys outside ants that stumble into its midst. Russell seems to hold a view that human nature is malleable via institutions and education -- but not unconstrainedly so. All-in-all, among the developed countries, I guess I would say that the past 60 years give us reason to hope that we can limit warfare, despite the persistence of capitalism and the lack of an effective unitary international military force. Perhaps this hope stems not from improved human nature but from increased destructiveness of weaponry, as Russell discusses elsewhere.
Also in Chapter VI, Russell identifies what came to be known as confirmation bias, the notion that we are much more skeptical towards new information that does not fit with our preconceived beliefs than we are towards similar information that conforms to those beliefs.
As noted at “half” time, many of the reforms that Russell sought have since taken place, though generally not within a socialist or syndicalist framework. Unemployment insurance has somewhat socialized the risk of unemployment. Public measures for child support, and much greater economic opportunities for women, have responded to problems that Russell identified (though his vision that housework would become publicly remunerated has not come to pass). Education in some countries is free of charge all the way through university, though competition for places in the best schools or for scholarships generally remains intense. Consistent with Russell's claims, Malthusian pressures have not undermined the utility of reforms that raise the living conditions of the working class.
As we have seen, Russell thought that a significant expansion in human freedom requires the elimination of private ownership of land and capital. In this regard, Russell appears to have been mistaken, in that the increased wealth and leisure made available to most members of rich countries have produced significantly more freedom without socializing property. Nevertheless, Russell’s chief contention – that individual freedom would be the main force in producing a better future – seems consistent with subsequent events.
Incidentally, following the index in Proposed Roads to Freedom are four pages of interesting advertisements for eight other books published by Henry Holt and Company. Three of the books are by Walter Lippmann -- one of them highly recommended by Theodore Roosevelt. The advertised books generally deal with topics such as labor unions or socialism that are related to the material in Proposed Roads to Freedom.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Proposed Roads to Freedom, Chapter VIII
Chapter VIII (pages 186-212), “The World As It Could Be Made”
[An e-version of Chapter VIII is available here.]
Fear tends to predominate over hope in most people’s lives, though it is better that this not be the case. A focus on creation and improvement, and a disdain for envy, generates and helps to spread happiness. This mindset undermines fear, because what it values most cannot be taken away. But the hopeful mentality does not come easily, so if fear is to be overcome, the causes of fear must be diminished. A good life must also be made a successful one, in the usual worldly sense.
Evils in people’s lives can be classed into those that are physical; those that involve character (including ignorance or violent passions); and those that are inflicted by the powerful over the less powerful. Of course, the classification is rough and fluid – many evils of character are responses to evils of power or of the body, for instance. “Nevertheless, speaking broadly, we may distinguish among our misfortunes those which have their proximate cause in the material world, those which are mainly due to defects in ourselves, and those which spring from our being subject to the control of others [p. 189].” They can be combated respectively by science, education and freedom, and political and economic reform. Anarchism and Socialism, in the first instance, are aimed at remedying existing evils of power.
The current system results in substantial evils of power, as most people are either poor or required to work extensively to get by. Much work itself is undertaken under dictatorial and painful conditions: “the very idea that work might be a joy, like the work of the artist, is usually scouted as utterly Utopian [p. 192].” These evils are correctable.
Russell then recapitulates his preferred system, which is a Kropotkin-like Anarchism joined with some Guild Socialism (as the previous chapters have made clear). Education is free up to at least the age of 21, and compulsory up to perhaps age 16. After completing education, people can choose to work, but receive a living stipend in any case. Russell notes that most folks will work, as most people who currently have enough investment income to get by nevertheless choose to work. Four hours of work per day would be enough to provide high living standards, if more rational production methods were implemented and competition was restrained. Each person will be trained in several trades. Factories and industries will be self-governing, in a democratic fashion, with respect to internal issues. A Guild Congress will coordinate between industries, a Parliament will conduct location-based (as opposed to vocation-based) affairs, and there will be a chamber of representatives from Parliament and the Guild Congress to resolve disputes between them.
Payments to workers will be salaries that will not fall when the amount of work to be accomplished falls – unemployment will not be a great dreaded evil hanging over everyone. If the Guild Congress thinks that different pay for different work is helpful, then such freely chosen wage inequality is fine. Disagreeable trades will be conducted for fewer hours or for more pay, and society will have a strong interest in making work more pleasant.
A type of money will be needed to reflect relative values. But to prevent the accumulation of large hoards of savings that might enable the saver to become a capitalist, the money paid to a worker might be valid for only a limited period of time, say, one year. Free distribution of necessities, like the Anarchists propose, should be adopted if it becomes feasible.
Women, married or not, who provide domestic services should be paid. “This will secure the complete economic independence of wives, which is difficult to achieve in any other way, since mothers of young children ought not to be expected to work outside the home [p. 196].” Children will not be an economic burden on parents, but on the public, who will provide the resources for their necessities (as with adults) and their education. Competition for scholarships will be removed from education. Student initiative will be encouraged, and the inculcating of propagandistic beliefs discouraged, in the reformed education system.
Government and law will be minimized; most property law will be unnecessary, and criminal motives reduced. Criminals will be regarded as unfortunate, not as wicked, “and kept in some kind of mental hospital until it is thought they are no longer a danger [p. 198].”
A monopoly of legitimate violence (domestically and internationally) is needed to suppress other uses of force. This currently exists within a state, but the international equivalent is far from being established. Once people believe that war is an impossibility, the dismantling of most of the present military structures will be possible. Liberty can be enhanced by the utmost devolution of power, and by reducing the possibility of war. These reforms are connected, as it is war that is used to justify centralized executive power.
Russell then goes on to ask how his preferred society would remedy defects of character. The reduction of economic power currently possessed by large capitalists will diminish despotism and enhance gentility. Fear of economic failure and hope for great wealth will disappear. Ambitions will have to be channeled into nobler enterprises than commercial success. Science and technical progress will flourish, as these will be the roads to honor. And with freedom from state direction, art, too, will flourish. Work will be more edifying when it is done without compulsion, and human relations will improve when authority and class distinctions are dissolved.
The relations between the sexes will improve enormously when the commercial angle is eliminated. Currently, marriage is often worse than prostitution, in being harder to escape from. Marital relations can be free and spontaneous in the absence of an economic component. Affection will keep families together, and when affection is gone, there is nothing worth preserving. “Reverence for whatever makes the soul in those who are loved will be less rare than it is now: nowadays, many men love their wives in the way in which they love mutton, as something to devour and destroy [p. 206].” Happiness will grow with this newfound spiritual satisfaction in marriage. A childlike joy, rare among adults in our competitive world, will become widely available.
Will our remade society also reduce physical evils? Less onerous work and healthier conditions for children should add to physical well-being. Science can flourish if the economically liberated are given mental freedom, too, and scientific advances will alleviate suffering.
“There remains the population question, which, ever since the time of Malthus, has been the last refuge of those to whom the possibility of a better world is disagreeable [p. 210].” But birth rates in advanced countries have fallen, and any nightmare population scenarios are too conjectural to stand in the way of socialist-style reform at this point.
While communal ownership of land and capital is necessary to bring on a better world, it is not sufficient. Creativity and joy, love without domination – these are some of the non-economic markers of the better world, a world that is feasible. Russell concludes on an optimistic note, that following the demise of our current social system, “from its ashes will spring a new and younger world, full of fresh hope, with the light of morning in its eyes [p. 212].”
[An e-version of Chapter VIII is available here.]
Fear tends to predominate over hope in most people’s lives, though it is better that this not be the case. A focus on creation and improvement, and a disdain for envy, generates and helps to spread happiness. This mindset undermines fear, because what it values most cannot be taken away. But the hopeful mentality does not come easily, so if fear is to be overcome, the causes of fear must be diminished. A good life must also be made a successful one, in the usual worldly sense.
Evils in people’s lives can be classed into those that are physical; those that involve character (including ignorance or violent passions); and those that are inflicted by the powerful over the less powerful. Of course, the classification is rough and fluid – many evils of character are responses to evils of power or of the body, for instance. “Nevertheless, speaking broadly, we may distinguish among our misfortunes those which have their proximate cause in the material world, those which are mainly due to defects in ourselves, and those which spring from our being subject to the control of others [p. 189].” They can be combated respectively by science, education and freedom, and political and economic reform. Anarchism and Socialism, in the first instance, are aimed at remedying existing evils of power.
The current system results in substantial evils of power, as most people are either poor or required to work extensively to get by. Much work itself is undertaken under dictatorial and painful conditions: “the very idea that work might be a joy, like the work of the artist, is usually scouted as utterly Utopian [p. 192].” These evils are correctable.
Russell then recapitulates his preferred system, which is a Kropotkin-like Anarchism joined with some Guild Socialism (as the previous chapters have made clear). Education is free up to at least the age of 21, and compulsory up to perhaps age 16. After completing education, people can choose to work, but receive a living stipend in any case. Russell notes that most folks will work, as most people who currently have enough investment income to get by nevertheless choose to work. Four hours of work per day would be enough to provide high living standards, if more rational production methods were implemented and competition was restrained. Each person will be trained in several trades. Factories and industries will be self-governing, in a democratic fashion, with respect to internal issues. A Guild Congress will coordinate between industries, a Parliament will conduct location-based (as opposed to vocation-based) affairs, and there will be a chamber of representatives from Parliament and the Guild Congress to resolve disputes between them.
Payments to workers will be salaries that will not fall when the amount of work to be accomplished falls – unemployment will not be a great dreaded evil hanging over everyone. If the Guild Congress thinks that different pay for different work is helpful, then such freely chosen wage inequality is fine. Disagreeable trades will be conducted for fewer hours or for more pay, and society will have a strong interest in making work more pleasant.
A type of money will be needed to reflect relative values. But to prevent the accumulation of large hoards of savings that might enable the saver to become a capitalist, the money paid to a worker might be valid for only a limited period of time, say, one year. Free distribution of necessities, like the Anarchists propose, should be adopted if it becomes feasible.
Women, married or not, who provide domestic services should be paid. “This will secure the complete economic independence of wives, which is difficult to achieve in any other way, since mothers of young children ought not to be expected to work outside the home [p. 196].” Children will not be an economic burden on parents, but on the public, who will provide the resources for their necessities (as with adults) and their education. Competition for scholarships will be removed from education. Student initiative will be encouraged, and the inculcating of propagandistic beliefs discouraged, in the reformed education system.
Government and law will be minimized; most property law will be unnecessary, and criminal motives reduced. Criminals will be regarded as unfortunate, not as wicked, “and kept in some kind of mental hospital until it is thought they are no longer a danger [p. 198].”
A monopoly of legitimate violence (domestically and internationally) is needed to suppress other uses of force. This currently exists within a state, but the international equivalent is far from being established. Once people believe that war is an impossibility, the dismantling of most of the present military structures will be possible. Liberty can be enhanced by the utmost devolution of power, and by reducing the possibility of war. These reforms are connected, as it is war that is used to justify centralized executive power.
Russell then goes on to ask how his preferred society would remedy defects of character. The reduction of economic power currently possessed by large capitalists will diminish despotism and enhance gentility. Fear of economic failure and hope for great wealth will disappear. Ambitions will have to be channeled into nobler enterprises than commercial success. Science and technical progress will flourish, as these will be the roads to honor. And with freedom from state direction, art, too, will flourish. Work will be more edifying when it is done without compulsion, and human relations will improve when authority and class distinctions are dissolved.
The relations between the sexes will improve enormously when the commercial angle is eliminated. Currently, marriage is often worse than prostitution, in being harder to escape from. Marital relations can be free and spontaneous in the absence of an economic component. Affection will keep families together, and when affection is gone, there is nothing worth preserving. “Reverence for whatever makes the soul in those who are loved will be less rare than it is now: nowadays, many men love their wives in the way in which they love mutton, as something to devour and destroy [p. 206].” Happiness will grow with this newfound spiritual satisfaction in marriage. A childlike joy, rare among adults in our competitive world, will become widely available.
Will our remade society also reduce physical evils? Less onerous work and healthier conditions for children should add to physical well-being. Science can flourish if the economically liberated are given mental freedom, too, and scientific advances will alleviate suffering.
“There remains the population question, which, ever since the time of Malthus, has been the last refuge of those to whom the possibility of a better world is disagreeable [p. 210].” But birth rates in advanced countries have fallen, and any nightmare population scenarios are too conjectural to stand in the way of socialist-style reform at this point.
While communal ownership of land and capital is necessary to bring on a better world, it is not sufficient. Creativity and joy, love without domination – these are some of the non-economic markers of the better world, a world that is feasible. Russell concludes on an optimistic note, that following the demise of our current social system, “from its ashes will spring a new and younger world, full of fresh hope, with the light of morning in its eyes [p. 212].”
Monday, September 29, 2008
Proposed Roads to Freedom, Chapter VII
Chapter VII (pages 164-185), “Science and Art Under Socialism”
[An e-version of Chapter VII is available here.]
Socialism might provide sufficient income and leisure time to allow everyone to contribute to societal advance – though most comfortably-off people in current society do not do so. For material progress to be of real use to society, “it must be made a means to the advancement of those higher goods that belong to the life of the mind [p. 166].” But the life of the mind must itself be connected with community life to avoid sterility and preciousness.
Russell asserts the higher social value of people who are capable of creating beauty or extending knowledge. “A social system which would render them unproductive would stand condemned, whatever other merits it might have [p. 167].” He claims that the best of creative activity cannot be brought about via monetary inducements. (Here Russell forgets or ignores Shakespeare, of whom Pope noted, “For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, / And grew immortal in his own despite.”) What is needed is “circumstances which keep the [creative] impulse alive and afford scope for the activities which it inspires [p. 168].”
To promote mental creativity, social systems can provide: (1) technical training; (2) liberty to pursue one’s Muse; and (3) the potential for public approbation (if only that of a small public). Some forms of Socialism would surely be worse than the current system at fostering scientific and artistic development.
Who receives the requisite technical training now? Those whose parents are sufficiently wealthy and interested, and those who show such promise when young that they attract a scholarship. The first category would essentially disappear under socialism – but the wealthy are only a small proportion of society, anyway. The scholarship system suffers from inducing the wrong type of competition, leading to glibness and overwork in the young – and a compensatory dilatoriness later. State Socialists might universalize scholarship exams, which would be disastrous. The bureaucrats in charge would want only to subsidize those who can do the most for society, and let the others wallow.
Russell proposes instead that education be free to whoever wants it up to the age of 21. Most students will quit at an earlier age, but those with the strongest inclinations – not necessarily the most talent – towards learning will continue. (Russell notes, page 172, that the desire to become a painter is not limited to folks who can paint.) Subsidizing some students who lack talent is a small price to pay for making sure that those with talent have the opportunity to develop it. This sort of free education could be provided under Socialism or Anarchism; indeed, in theoretical terms, it is even consistent with capitalism, though it flies in the face of the typical spirit of capitalism.
Under current circumstances, the freedom to follow your Muse without regard to expert or commercial opinion is only effectively available to the wealthy and to those who can earn their living in a manner which still leaves them with the time and energy to undertake their creative endeavors. Private means have been available in the past to only a few, but those few include many who have made important contributions, such as Keats and Darwin. “If Darwin had been a university teacher, he would of course have been dismissed from his post by the influence of the clerics on account of his scandalous theories [p. 173].” [Russell himself had already (at the time he wrote Proposed Roads to Freedom) been dismissed from Trinity College for his anti-war activism, and later would lose a position he had secured at City College of New York because of other unpopular opinions.] Socialism will undermine the “private means” route to creative freedom, so it must compensate by broadening the opportunities available to those without private means. But even today, most creative work is done by those who support themselves in some less-than-fully-consuming occupation – including the research undertaken by those who teach in a related area.
State Socialism is likely to result in a bureaucratic mechanism, whereby a panel of people considered eminent in their field would license the products of those young people whom they find most promising. “In such a world all that makes life tolerable to the lover of beauty would perish [p. 175].” Art requires an anarchic spirit, one profoundly at odds with the bureaucratic mindset. “Better Anarchism, with all its risks, than a State Socialism that subjects to rule what must be spontaneous and free if it is to have any value [p. 175].” Fortunately, not all forms of Socialism require this bureaucratization of art.
Art could remain free under Socialism if artists choose to work only a few hours a day (at their non-art occupation), with commensurately less pay, and devote the remainder of their working time to art. The artist’s right to sell his products at freely negotiated prices must complement this system. (Many young artists currently do limit their paid work, but they live less well than they would under the Socialist arrangement.) Or, a small but sustaining guaranteed income could be made available to all, without a work requirement. Russell thinks that having vagabonds who choose to accept this wage and do no paid work would enliven the community, as long as they were not too numerous. Either of the approaches that Russell outlines to artistic freedom under Socialism would produce “far more complete freedom, and far more widespread, than any that now exists except for the possessors of capital [p. 178].”
But who will decide what books to publish? If it is the state or a literary guild, censorship will be rife. Kropotkin’s suggestion is to eschew specialization and have authors also layout and bind books – but whose books? (Russell notes that “it would be a waste of time for them [authors] to leave the work they understand in order to do badly work which others could do far better and more quickly [p. 179].”) Authors whose own books are rejected are not likely to do a good job publishing the books of others. Books critical of the existing system (such as Kropotkin’s books!) will not be published. Russell claims that the only solution is to allow authors to pay for the publication of their books if the state or guild apparatus rejects them. The payment might take the form of a labor contribution, but it needn’t be bookbinding. (Perhaps the admirers of an author could contribute, too.) No book could be rejected if the offer of payment at a set rate is made.
At least twice in this chapter Russell notes the utility of placing some barrier or inconvenience in the way of artistic production. For instance, the discomfort associated with the servitude bartered for book publishing “would give an automatic means of eliminating those whose writing was not the result of any very profound impulse and would be by no means wholly an evil [p. 180].” Some suffering for the sake of art is not particularly objectionable.
For art to flourish, artists have to know that art is respected (even if specific artists are not). Too much solemnity, perhaps brought on by overwork, undermines the environment for art, which needs “a capacity for direct enjoyment without thought of tomorrow’s problems and difficulties [p. 182].” An environment conducive to art also requires “a diffused sense of freedom,” one that a bureaucratic State Socialism is unlikely to foster.
A general progress also helps to spur creativity, and this will require ongoing technological improvements. But will there be enough innovation under Socialism? Workers should be allowed to keep some of the fruits of better methods in their industry, to provide an incentive to innovate.
Russell concludes that the three conditions needed to promote science and art – training, freedom, and public appreciation – are unlikely to exist under State Socialism, but could be maintained under Guild Socialism or Syndicalism, with better results than what capitalism affords. The key is liberty. “In this as in nearly everything else, the road to all that is best is the road of freedom [p. 185].”
[An e-version of Chapter VII is available here.]
Socialism might provide sufficient income and leisure time to allow everyone to contribute to societal advance – though most comfortably-off people in current society do not do so. For material progress to be of real use to society, “it must be made a means to the advancement of those higher goods that belong to the life of the mind [p. 166].” But the life of the mind must itself be connected with community life to avoid sterility and preciousness.
Russell asserts the higher social value of people who are capable of creating beauty or extending knowledge. “A social system which would render them unproductive would stand condemned, whatever other merits it might have [p. 167].” He claims that the best of creative activity cannot be brought about via monetary inducements. (Here Russell forgets or ignores Shakespeare, of whom Pope noted, “For gain, not glory, wing'd his roving flight, / And grew immortal in his own despite.”) What is needed is “circumstances which keep the [creative] impulse alive and afford scope for the activities which it inspires [p. 168].”
To promote mental creativity, social systems can provide: (1) technical training; (2) liberty to pursue one’s Muse; and (3) the potential for public approbation (if only that of a small public). Some forms of Socialism would surely be worse than the current system at fostering scientific and artistic development.
Who receives the requisite technical training now? Those whose parents are sufficiently wealthy and interested, and those who show such promise when young that they attract a scholarship. The first category would essentially disappear under socialism – but the wealthy are only a small proportion of society, anyway. The scholarship system suffers from inducing the wrong type of competition, leading to glibness and overwork in the young – and a compensatory dilatoriness later. State Socialists might universalize scholarship exams, which would be disastrous. The bureaucrats in charge would want only to subsidize those who can do the most for society, and let the others wallow.
Russell proposes instead that education be free to whoever wants it up to the age of 21. Most students will quit at an earlier age, but those with the strongest inclinations – not necessarily the most talent – towards learning will continue. (Russell notes, page 172, that the desire to become a painter is not limited to folks who can paint.) Subsidizing some students who lack talent is a small price to pay for making sure that those with talent have the opportunity to develop it. This sort of free education could be provided under Socialism or Anarchism; indeed, in theoretical terms, it is even consistent with capitalism, though it flies in the face of the typical spirit of capitalism.
Under current circumstances, the freedom to follow your Muse without regard to expert or commercial opinion is only effectively available to the wealthy and to those who can earn their living in a manner which still leaves them with the time and energy to undertake their creative endeavors. Private means have been available in the past to only a few, but those few include many who have made important contributions, such as Keats and Darwin. “If Darwin had been a university teacher, he would of course have been dismissed from his post by the influence of the clerics on account of his scandalous theories [p. 173].” [Russell himself had already (at the time he wrote Proposed Roads to Freedom) been dismissed from Trinity College for his anti-war activism, and later would lose a position he had secured at City College of New York because of other unpopular opinions.] Socialism will undermine the “private means” route to creative freedom, so it must compensate by broadening the opportunities available to those without private means. But even today, most creative work is done by those who support themselves in some less-than-fully-consuming occupation – including the research undertaken by those who teach in a related area.
State Socialism is likely to result in a bureaucratic mechanism, whereby a panel of people considered eminent in their field would license the products of those young people whom they find most promising. “In such a world all that makes life tolerable to the lover of beauty would perish [p. 175].” Art requires an anarchic spirit, one profoundly at odds with the bureaucratic mindset. “Better Anarchism, with all its risks, than a State Socialism that subjects to rule what must be spontaneous and free if it is to have any value [p. 175].” Fortunately, not all forms of Socialism require this bureaucratization of art.
Art could remain free under Socialism if artists choose to work only a few hours a day (at their non-art occupation), with commensurately less pay, and devote the remainder of their working time to art. The artist’s right to sell his products at freely negotiated prices must complement this system. (Many young artists currently do limit their paid work, but they live less well than they would under the Socialist arrangement.) Or, a small but sustaining guaranteed income could be made available to all, without a work requirement. Russell thinks that having vagabonds who choose to accept this wage and do no paid work would enliven the community, as long as they were not too numerous. Either of the approaches that Russell outlines to artistic freedom under Socialism would produce “far more complete freedom, and far more widespread, than any that now exists except for the possessors of capital [p. 178].”
But who will decide what books to publish? If it is the state or a literary guild, censorship will be rife. Kropotkin’s suggestion is to eschew specialization and have authors also layout and bind books – but whose books? (Russell notes that “it would be a waste of time for them [authors] to leave the work they understand in order to do badly work which others could do far better and more quickly [p. 179].”) Authors whose own books are rejected are not likely to do a good job publishing the books of others. Books critical of the existing system (such as Kropotkin’s books!) will not be published. Russell claims that the only solution is to allow authors to pay for the publication of their books if the state or guild apparatus rejects them. The payment might take the form of a labor contribution, but it needn’t be bookbinding. (Perhaps the admirers of an author could contribute, too.) No book could be rejected if the offer of payment at a set rate is made.
At least twice in this chapter Russell notes the utility of placing some barrier or inconvenience in the way of artistic production. For instance, the discomfort associated with the servitude bartered for book publishing “would give an automatic means of eliminating those whose writing was not the result of any very profound impulse and would be by no means wholly an evil [p. 180].” Some suffering for the sake of art is not particularly objectionable.
For art to flourish, artists have to know that art is respected (even if specific artists are not). Too much solemnity, perhaps brought on by overwork, undermines the environment for art, which needs “a capacity for direct enjoyment without thought of tomorrow’s problems and difficulties [p. 182].” An environment conducive to art also requires “a diffused sense of freedom,” one that a bureaucratic State Socialism is unlikely to foster.
A general progress also helps to spur creativity, and this will require ongoing technological improvements. But will there be enough innovation under Socialism? Workers should be allowed to keep some of the fruits of better methods in their industry, to provide an incentive to innovate.
Russell concludes that the three conditions needed to promote science and art – training, freedom, and public appreciation – are unlikely to exist under State Socialism, but could be maintained under Guild Socialism or Syndicalism, with better results than what capitalism affords. The key is liberty. “In this as in nearly everything else, the road to all that is best is the road of freedom [p. 185].”
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Proposed Roads to Freedom, Chapter VI
Chapter VI (pages 139-163), “International Relations”
[An e-version of Chapter VI is available here.]
Socialists and Anarchists maintain, incorrectly, that all modern wars can be traced to capitalism. It is true that capitalists like to expand globally, and this can create friction. Capitalist owners of newspapers can whip up a war hysteria. (These two drivers towards international conflict might be reduced under non-capitalist conditions – page 148.) Successful capitalists have nurtured the habit of pugnacity and command, and hence they view any thwarting of their will as due to evil that must be subdued. But this last point would be true in any system that gives substantial power to small numbers of people – and it may not be possible to avoid a system where a few people have substantial power. The concentration of power causes wars, and wars lead to the concentration of power. Quick decisions are needed in dangerous situations.
Human nature seems to predispose us towards war, too, irrespective of the governmental system. People credit information that supports their instincts, and are quite skeptical of information that does not confirm their predispositions. The instinct towards pugnacity will out, “unless education and environment were so changed as enormously to diminish the strength of the competitive instinct [p. 147].” Global revolution by the proletariat might for awhile reduce international tensions, as the working classes direct their ire against the bourgeoisie, and not against other countries. But this too would pass, and national rivalries would likely re-emerge. “There is no alchemy by which a universal harmony can be produced out of hatred [p. 149].” So whipping up a class war is not likely to result in global peace.
The idea that working men in developed countries are brothers in arms with those of the developing world is untrue. In part, the English working class is prosperous because of the exploitation of the developing world, and many English workers have significant stakes – even corporate shares – in the capitalist order. Their new access to power has increased their nationalism.
Nevertheless, Russell confesses that he believes “that the abolition of private ownership of land and capital is a necessary step toward any world in which the nations are to live at peace with one another [pp. 150-1]” – necessary, but not sufficient. Race hatred, for instance, is likely to remain, and it can combine with labor competition to incite war. Global Socialism will not change such factors. “Ants are as completely Socialistic as any community can possibly be, yet they put to death any ant which strays among them by mistake from a neighboring ant-heap. Men do not differ much from ants, as regards their instincts in this respect…[p. 152].”
Russell has some hope that a League of Nations, which would credibly remove the perceived rationality of war by ensuring that military aggressors are punished, could make some headway in peaceful times or in the wake of a great war. But more is needed, including disarmament, though nations generally don’t trust that others are truly disarming. Institutions can help sustain cooperation, but they cannot create the goodwill that is necessary to initiate cooperation. Domestic political revolutions can be helpful, by quickly sweeping away the prejudices that are the main barrier to international cooperation: “great possibilities do arise in times of crisis [p. 155].”
Africa presents a nearly intractable problem, in that it will almost surely continue to “be governed and exploited by Europeans [p. 156].” How to govern Africa would be a tricky question even for an Anarchist or Socialist government. Such a government would not necessarily be any less exploitative of Africa, unless serious precautions are taken. Russell uses some charged language (“uncivilized”) when discussing Africa and Africans (including a hint (p. 158) of a “lack of intelligence,” as opposed to the population of Asia), but foresees that “even the populations of Central Africa may become capable of democratic self-government, provided Europeans bend their energies to this purpose [p. 158].” In discussing India, Russell sounds a knell for multiculturalism: “for it is not by a dead uniformity that the world as a whole is most enriched [p. 159].”
Problems in international relations fundamentally arise from psychological causes, chiefly “competitiveness, love of power, and envy… The evils arising from these three causes can be removed by a better education and a better economic and political system [p. 160].” Russell notes the importance of competitiveness in spurring effort, but identifies (somewhat too broadly) what economists might call rent seeking, too: “It [competitiveness] is only harmful when it aims at the acquisition of goods which are limited in amount, so that what one man possesses he holds at the expense of another [p. 160].” The hope is that a more just social system, one that includes communal ownership of land and capital, would reduce the harmful type of competition without interfering with the beneficial type. In turn, human nature would be improved, “for human nature, as it exists in adult men and women, is by no means a fixed datum, but a product of circumstances, education and opportunity operating upon a highly malleable native disposition [pp. 160-1].” Russell also argues that love of power and envy can be channeled into more constructive pathways through societal reforms.
Russell endorses, for international affairs, the same federalist approach that he endorses for national affairs: “self-determination for every group in regard to matters which concern it much more vitally than they concern others, and government by a neutral authority embracing rival groups in all matters in which conflicting interests of groups come into play; but always with the fixed principle that the functions of government are to be reduced to the bare minimum compatible with justice and the prevention of private violence [p. 161].”
Russell concludes Chapter VI with this cri de coeur: “A world full of happiness is not beyond human power to create; the obstacles imposed by inanimate nature are not insuperable. The real obstacles lie in the heart of man, and the cure for these is a firm hope, informed and fortified by thought [p. 163].”
[An e-version of Chapter VI is available here.]
Socialists and Anarchists maintain, incorrectly, that all modern wars can be traced to capitalism. It is true that capitalists like to expand globally, and this can create friction. Capitalist owners of newspapers can whip up a war hysteria. (These two drivers towards international conflict might be reduced under non-capitalist conditions – page 148.) Successful capitalists have nurtured the habit of pugnacity and command, and hence they view any thwarting of their will as due to evil that must be subdued. But this last point would be true in any system that gives substantial power to small numbers of people – and it may not be possible to avoid a system where a few people have substantial power. The concentration of power causes wars, and wars lead to the concentration of power. Quick decisions are needed in dangerous situations.
Human nature seems to predispose us towards war, too, irrespective of the governmental system. People credit information that supports their instincts, and are quite skeptical of information that does not confirm their predispositions. The instinct towards pugnacity will out, “unless education and environment were so changed as enormously to diminish the strength of the competitive instinct [p. 147].” Global revolution by the proletariat might for awhile reduce international tensions, as the working classes direct their ire against the bourgeoisie, and not against other countries. But this too would pass, and national rivalries would likely re-emerge. “There is no alchemy by which a universal harmony can be produced out of hatred [p. 149].” So whipping up a class war is not likely to result in global peace.
The idea that working men in developed countries are brothers in arms with those of the developing world is untrue. In part, the English working class is prosperous because of the exploitation of the developing world, and many English workers have significant stakes – even corporate shares – in the capitalist order. Their new access to power has increased their nationalism.
Nevertheless, Russell confesses that he believes “that the abolition of private ownership of land and capital is a necessary step toward any world in which the nations are to live at peace with one another [pp. 150-1]” – necessary, but not sufficient. Race hatred, for instance, is likely to remain, and it can combine with labor competition to incite war. Global Socialism will not change such factors. “Ants are as completely Socialistic as any community can possibly be, yet they put to death any ant which strays among them by mistake from a neighboring ant-heap. Men do not differ much from ants, as regards their instincts in this respect…[p. 152].”
Russell has some hope that a League of Nations, which would credibly remove the perceived rationality of war by ensuring that military aggressors are punished, could make some headway in peaceful times or in the wake of a great war. But more is needed, including disarmament, though nations generally don’t trust that others are truly disarming. Institutions can help sustain cooperation, but they cannot create the goodwill that is necessary to initiate cooperation. Domestic political revolutions can be helpful, by quickly sweeping away the prejudices that are the main barrier to international cooperation: “great possibilities do arise in times of crisis [p. 155].”
Africa presents a nearly intractable problem, in that it will almost surely continue to “be governed and exploited by Europeans [p. 156].” How to govern Africa would be a tricky question even for an Anarchist or Socialist government. Such a government would not necessarily be any less exploitative of Africa, unless serious precautions are taken. Russell uses some charged language (“uncivilized”) when discussing Africa and Africans (including a hint (p. 158) of a “lack of intelligence,” as opposed to the population of Asia), but foresees that “even the populations of Central Africa may become capable of democratic self-government, provided Europeans bend their energies to this purpose [p. 158].” In discussing India, Russell sounds a knell for multiculturalism: “for it is not by a dead uniformity that the world as a whole is most enriched [p. 159].”
Problems in international relations fundamentally arise from psychological causes, chiefly “competitiveness, love of power, and envy… The evils arising from these three causes can be removed by a better education and a better economic and political system [p. 160].” Russell notes the importance of competitiveness in spurring effort, but identifies (somewhat too broadly) what economists might call rent seeking, too: “It [competitiveness] is only harmful when it aims at the acquisition of goods which are limited in amount, so that what one man possesses he holds at the expense of another [p. 160].” The hope is that a more just social system, one that includes communal ownership of land and capital, would reduce the harmful type of competition without interfering with the beneficial type. In turn, human nature would be improved, “for human nature, as it exists in adult men and women, is by no means a fixed datum, but a product of circumstances, education and opportunity operating upon a highly malleable native disposition [pp. 160-1].” Russell also argues that love of power and envy can be channeled into more constructive pathways through societal reforms.
Russell endorses, for international affairs, the same federalist approach that he endorses for national affairs: “self-determination for every group in regard to matters which concern it much more vitally than they concern others, and government by a neutral authority embracing rival groups in all matters in which conflicting interests of groups come into play; but always with the fixed principle that the functions of government are to be reduced to the bare minimum compatible with justice and the prevention of private violence [p. 161].”
Russell concludes Chapter VI with this cri de coeur: “A world full of happiness is not beyond human power to create; the obstacles imposed by inanimate nature are not insuperable. The real obstacles lie in the heart of man, and the cure for these is a firm hope, informed and fortified by thought [p. 163].”
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