“'Useless' Knowledge,” pages 26-37
Knowledge has long been thought to be a source of power, and typically yields that power as in the case of Prospero, where knowledge brings control over magical forces. Francis Bacon understood, as we do now, that science could become more powerful than Prospero’s staff.
In the Renaissance, learning became something to be enjoyed for its own sake, frequently unmoored from practical concerns. People learned ancient Greek to appreciate Homer – though knowledge of ancient Greek and other languages helped to resolve theological puzzles and forgeries, and classical history provided guides and precedents for current, controversial political actions. Nonetheless, the primary motive for learning was pleasure, some of which emanated from broadened vistas for art and philosophy.
The allure of the ancient languages carried over into improved reputations for those sciences to which classical sources were devoted, such as geometry and astronomy, at least if seemingly disreputable post-classical scholars hadn’t fouled the disciplinary pool.
The sort of impractical approach to knowledge that characterized much of the Renaissance began to give way during the Enlightenment, and the decline accelerated with the French Revolution’s attack on upper-class habits and the proliferation of machines. The value of knowledge has come to be associated with the economic value of its practical applications – an association which exists in England and France, but is carried much further in the USA and the Soviet Union. Practicality has even become an excuse for pruning the acquisition of language to the minimum number of words requisite for business, as if economic expediency were the only purpose for speech. The Russian interest in education serving state aims takes the criterion of practicality still further – though a handful of the elect must learn philosophy to defend the state’s version of dialectical materialism, and a few Soviet scholars acquire a foreign language because “the sacred scriptures must be studied by some in the original German…[p. 29]”.
The interdependence among people, both political and economic, is greater in the modern world than it was previously, and hence the desire to force others to act in ways that we approve also has increased. Educational institutions, for the most part, are charged with producing loyal and productive citizens. [The sacrifice of education to propaganda is a Russellian concern that resurfaced in Unpopular Essays.] Hence we see a premium placed on what is considered to be practical knowledge, as part of a more general phenomenon that also underlies universal military conscription and the boy scouts. We do not have the free time and mental resources to acquire what is deemed to be impractical knowledge.
Of course, practical knowledge really is quite useful. “Without it, we should not have machines or motor-cars or railways or aeroplanes; it should be added that we should not have modern advertising or modern propaganda [p. 30].” We get innovations to improve health and innovations in the means of mass murder, but at any rate, there is still a need for more useful knowledge.
Much of a traditional ornamental education was wasted of course, including the small Latine, and lesse Greeke. Better to teach culture in modern languages than in dead ones – the claim that there should be room in education for useless knowledge is not a defense of traditional education. [Russell also made this point in Education and the Good Life.]
A focus on knowledge that promotes technical efficiency crowds out other types of knowledge that are not as directly practical, but that nonetheless carry large rewards. “When conscious activity is wholly concentrated on some one definite purpose, the ultimate result, for most people, is lack of balance accompanied by some form of nervous disorder [p. 32].” [Compare Russell in The Conquest of Happiness: “One of the symptoms of approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one’s work is terribly important and that to take a holiday would bring all kinds of disaster [p. 61].”] Overworked military strategists and political fanatics of many stripes are cases in point. Adults, like children, need play, and for play to have its salutary effect, it must be based on strong interests that are independent of one’s main work.
The leisure pursuits of the masses in developed countries tend now to involve mere spectatorship – better than no leisure at all, but not as beneficial as active interests. [And Russell was writing before the ultimate form of passive entertainment, television, was available.] Education must be supplemented to ensure that the population has access to intellectual interests, which are necessary to render significant amounts of leisure time enjoyable. [Russell devoted a chapter of The Conquest of Happiness to impersonal interests.]
Cultural education is necessary to ensure that improved techniques serve socially desirable ends. There is a significant streak of cruelty in humanity, and while education cannot eliminate the tendency towards cruel behavior, it does seem to lessen that tendency. School bullies and the ringleaders directing lynchings are not generally the more intelligent people in their communities. Education doesn’t necessarily make one more of a humanitarian, but it will engender interests in pursuits that are more edifying than being cruel towards others. People like power and to be admired, and the uneducated can only achieve these through brutality. Galileo could make the world better without the need to persecute.
“Perhaps the most important advantage of ‘useless’ knowledge is that it promotes a contemplative habit of mind [p. 34].” People feel compelled to take action, not only unthinkingly, but when doing nothing would be the preferred choice. The charge against Hamlet is too much thought, too little action [though of course, it is Hamlet’s rash killing of an unknown person behind an arras that ignites the wholesale slaughter – RBR], but Othello should be just as compelling a warning of too much action, too little thought. Contemplation helps ward off the compulsion to power and stimulates grace under pressure; it provides the wide vistas which alone can protect against the pain of life’s tragedies.
The quotidian troubles of the missing-the-train ilk are quite minor, but nevertheless can destroy wellbeing; some interest in a slightly relevant intellectual detail or historical parallel can serve as an antidote, removing us from our present travails. A browse through Burton’s Anatomy of Melancholy can itself relieve melancholy. This same broader perspective enlivens our pleasures, too. I [Russell] enjoy apricots more from knowing their provenance and etymology.
The largest payoff to contemplation draws from its ability to shield people from adopting anger and cruelty, which are fostered by the intolerance of narrow minds. Broad knowledge provides perspective, both of human limitations and of human potential.
People often invent myths to help them relieve the pain of life – but this short-term palliative stokes pain over the longer term. Russell concludes the chapter with a sort of secular version of the Serenity Prayer. In Russell’s version, useless knowledge helps build the intelligence that allows people to know the difference between what can and what cannot be changed. Further, useless knowledge promotes the broad perspective that renders it easier to accept with fortitude those conditions that are not amenable to reform.
Friday, March 28, 2014
Wednesday, February 12, 2014
In Praise of Idleness, Chapter One
“In Praise of Idleness,” pages 11-25
The essay opens by noting that this is a case of doing what I say, not what I do. I [Russell] was imprinted in childhood with the notion that work was virtuous, and my dutiful nature rendered me evermore hardworking. But I do not believe that hard work and virtue are kin; indeed, I believe that this opinion is harmful, and that a world of more leisure would be a better place.
The notion that there are a fixed number of jobs, so that one person stopping work makes way for someone else to work, is not correct and of course not the basis for my call for idleness. A worker earns money, and the spending of this money helps to feed others. A person who chooses to save (and not through a bank), however, does not generate the income and employment benefits that come from a spender.
Many savers lend their money to a government, which typically needs to borrow to pay the monetary tab of its previous or intended wars. Such a loan promotes the military, and is akin to hiring assassins. “Obviously it would be better if he [a saver who lends to a government] spent the money, even if he spent it in drink or gambling [p. 12].”
You might think that investing saved resources in an industry will generate jobs, but most such businesses fail, and so the labor that goes into them is wasted. At least if you spend on parties you and your friends get some consumption benefits, and the suppliers (including “the bootlegger”) earn income. Nonetheless, those who become bankrupt through failed investments are seen as unfortunate, while those whose excessive spending supports sociability are held in contempt. [These passages of Russell’s can be compared with those of Adam Smith, who also compares unfortunate investors with spenders, and differentiates between those who spend on durable goods and those who spend on immediate consumption. The wealth of society is advanced more by spending on durables than by throwing parties, according to Smith. But not all dimensions of concern favor the person who invests in durable goods (II.3.42): “I would not, however, by all this be understood to mean that the one species of expence always betokens a more liberal or generous spirit than the other. When a man of fortune spends his revenue chiefly in hospitality, he shares the greater part of it with his friends and companions; but when he employs it in purchasing such durable commodities, he often spends the whole upon his own person, and gives nothing to anybody without an equivalent. The latter species of expence, therefore, especially when directed towards frivolous objects, the little ornaments of dress and furniture, jewels, trinkets, gewgaws, frequently indicates, not only a trifling, but a base and selfish disposition.”]
Back to Russell. Work involves either acting upon matter, or ordering other people to act upon matter. [This sounds like a Russellian trope I have come across before, but I cannot place it. Maybe it is Marx instead? – RBR] “The first kind [of work] is unpleasant and ill paid; the second is pleasant and highly paid [p. 13].” There can be an extensive ecology of order-givers and their advisors. Politics involves opposing advisors, and the requisite skill is persuasion, not knowledge of the specific area of contention. Besides the two types of workers, Europe also has a landowning class that receives tribute. Landowners are exemplars of idleness, but not the species that I [Russell] favor. They can only be idle because others are hard-working, and landowners have no interest in seeing their brand of idleness become more universally established.
Up to the Industrial Revolution, a hardworking family generally could maintain subsistence, with most of the surplus being taken by the military and the clergy. In difficult times, the working people might starve, but the military and clergy generally remained provided for. This historical legacy is no longer descriptive of much of the world, but views concerning the virtues of work tend to be relics of this earlier era. The leisure that previously belonged only to the small privileged classes can now, thanks to increased productivity, be distributed more broadly. “The morality of work is the morality of slaves, and the modern world has no need of slavery [p. 14].” [So, for Russell, the virtue of work is one of those ideas which have become obsolete.]
Eventually, the force that allowed the privileged to grab surplus production spawned a legitimating ideology advancing the morality of hard work and a duty to transfer the surplus. The ideology exists to this day: the vast majority of British people would be astonished at a proposal that the King receive a standard, working-class salary. At times the privileged classes have used the leisure that was bestowed upon them by the exploitation of working people in ways that have advanced civilization; nonetheless, it is the leisure, not the hard work of others, that is desirable. Civilization now can move forward through an alternate channel, one that spreads leisure widely.
Wartime demonstrated the vast extent of the economic surplus. Despite huge swaths of humanity, both men and women, being removed from productive labour in favor of war making and materiel manufacture, the average person on the side of the Allies was maintained in excellent physical condition. (Don’t be fooled by the mysteries of finance, whereby wartime borrowing generates the illusion that today’s subsistence is provided by the future.) The war indicated that with a rational approach to production, everyone could be maintained despite only a small number of workers being devoted to providing the means of maintenance. A peacetime version of such rationality would allow living standards to be sustained on just four hours of work (per worker) per day. Instead, the chaotic approach to production was reinstituted post-war, where long hours for some workers were matched by involuntary unemployment – and starvation – for others.
Consider [shades of Adam] a pin factory, that happens to make the entire world supply of pins, with employees working eight hours per day. Technical advance brings a machine that allows pins to be made with only half the labor previously required. But pins already are fairly inexpensive, and even with a price fall, the world doesn’t really require any more pins. “In a sensible world, everybody concerned in the manufacture of pins would take to working four hours instead of eight, and everything else would go on as before [p. 16].” But what will actually happen is that there will be lots of short-term disruption and bankruptcies, and in the end, half of the workers will continue to work eight hours per day and the other half will become unemployed. Note that the rational method and the actual method involve the same aggregate amount of leisure, but the rational method makes leisure more widespread while still maintaining full employment. The actual method ensures misery for all, the unemployed and the overworked alike.
Rich people cannot abide leisure for poor people. Efforts to cut the huge working hours (even for children) in the nineteenth century routinely were met with claims that the long hours contributed to morality. But the duty to work should go no further than restitution for a person’s maintenance. Of course, much of the upper class is allowed their copious consumption without any work requirement. But their leisure is not as objectionable as are the requisite long working hours of the non-rich.
Rich men in America often work long hours, and are opposed to leisure time for the working class or even for their own sons. The aristocratic duty of leisure is one that they endorse only for women.
Making good use of leisure is itself a skill that requires education and refinement. People who have not developed this skill, and who are habituated to long hours of work, will find leisure extremely dull. “But without a considerable amount of leisure a man is cut off from many of the best things [p. 18].” So let’s make sure that the widespread leisure that is available in theory is available in practice.
Soviet ideology promoting the virtue of work is the usual elite claptrap aimed at the poor – though the concocted deity who approves is not a traditional god, but rather dialectical materialism. The rise of the Russian proletariat has some parallels with the rise of feminism. Women traditionally were praised for their virtue, which was a religious obligation, and made to believe that the barriers erected to preclude female power were more than compensated for by their saintliness. [Russell is echoing his godfather; for instance, from Chapter One (page 27) of The Subjection of Women: “All women are brought up from the very earliest years in the belief that their ideal of character is the very opposite to that of men; not self-will, and government by self-control, but submission, and yielding to the control of others. All the moralities tell them that it is the duty of women, and all the current sentimentalities that it is their nature, to live for others; to make complete abnegation of themselves, and to have no life but in their affections. And by their affections are meant the only ones they are allowed to have—those to the men with whom they are connected, or to the children who constitute an additional and indefeasible tie between them and a man.”]
Back to Bertie. Manual labor has been extolled in Russia just as the virtue of female dependency has been trumpeted more broadly. Russia even has its version of religious revival meetings, where young people are barraged with appeals to provide labor for some special project, appeals based on the virtue of such labor. Perhaps such an approach is reasonable while Russia remains undeveloped, and not yet in a position where leisure could be universal. It is likely, however, that even as the Russian economy expands, it will be hard for the authorities to allow leisure to take hold, given the ideological attachment to manual work as good in and of itself (page 21).
The west has its own approaches to make sure that manual labor is highly valued. With no interest in economic justice, the fact that consumption is skewed towards the rich means that everyone else must work for their daily bread. The reserve army of the unemployed ensures that output is scarce, so that surely, it would seem, widespread leisure would not be compatible with decent living standards. “When all these methods prove inadequate, we have a war: we cause a number of people to manufacture high explosives, and a number of others to explode them, as if we were children who had just discovered fireworks [p. 20].”
Manual labor is necessary but not a goal in itself, though we often extoll it as though it were such a goal. This preaching serves to keep the poor in their place; the rich “preach the dignity of labour, while taking care themselves to be undignified in this respect [p. 21].” But no manual labourer is taken in, no one views his leisure as an unfortunate but occasionally necessary intrusion into his righteous employment. Rather, work is regarded as necessary for life, but their happiness is connected to their leisure. [Bertie here is unwittingly(?) seconding Marx’s views of labor under capitalism: “First, the fact that labor is external to the worker, i.e., it does not belong to his intrinsic nature; that in his work, therefore, he does not affirm himself but denies himself, does not feel content but unhappy, does not develop freely his physical and mental energy but mortifies his body and ruins his mind. The worker therefore only feels himself outside his work, and in his work feels outside himself. He feels at home when he is not working, and when he is working he does not feel at home. His labor is therefore not voluntary, but coerced; it is forced labor. It is therefore not the satisfaction of a need; it is merely a means to satisfy needs external to it. Its alien character emerges clearly in the fact that as soon as no physical or other compulsion exists, labor is shunned like the plague.” The reason that I suspect (but do not know) that the connection is unwitting is because the quoted passage comes from Marx’s Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, which were published in the original German by the Soviets just a few years before In Praise of Idleness, and were not available in English for a couple more decades.]
Will people know how to fill their leisure time if we instituted a four-hour working day? Surely in the past, when people were more light-hearted, this would not have been an issue. But now efficiency is king, and activity that does not entail financial profit is suspect. Those who provide commodities and even leisure goods, then, are engaged in worthwhile work, it is thought, while those who consume any more than is necessary to remain a productive worker are being dangerously unserious. This view is obviously mistaken. “Whatever merit there may be in the production of goods must be entirely derivative from the advantage to be obtained by consuming them [p. 22].” But society acts as if it is more concerned with production than with consumption, and undervalues the happiness induced by enjoying consumption. [Adam Smith once again serves as a precursor (IV.8.49): “Consumption is the sole end and purpose of all production; and the interest of the producer ought to be attended to only so far as it may be necessary for promoting that of the consumer.”]
A four-hour work day doesn’t mean that the rest of the hours are frittered away. With the necessaries and conveniencies [as Adam Smith might have put it] of life secure, the remaining time can be used in freely chosen pursuits. Education must be up to the task, however, of inculcating preferences for, and knowledge of, fruitful uses of leisure time. These needn’t be elitist tastes. They would be active, however, unlike the passive spectatorship that now is common, and is the requisite use of leisure given long work hours.
The leisure class used to comprise but the privileged few, whose privilege undermined their ethics and sympathies; nonetheless, even in this withered state, most of the progress of civilization, in arts, sciences, philosophy, and literature, can be laid at the feet of the leisure class. But the unequal distribution of leisure was extraordinarily inefficient, as much of the leisure class had neither the talent nor the diligence to make much of their gift. The universities now provide a more organized attempt to promote progress, but they, too, are not a full answer in a world where those outside of the universities lack unstructured time. Those inside the universities are too cut off from the larger society, too restricted in their style of communication, and too tied to the status quo framework to induce major strides for civilization.
The better system is where limited work hours for all ensures that any person with passion and a scientific or artistic or literary idea can pursue that idea, without being beholden to the market for livelihood. [A similar formulation appeared in Proposed Roads to Freedom.] People with political or economic notions will not be cloistered in an ivory tower, and hence not as susceptible as they now are to give to airy nothings a local habitation and a name. Physicians and teachers will have the time to keep up with the advances in their fields.
Happiness will spread as fatigue and strained nerves become less common. Those four hours of work will not exhaust laborers, and leisure will still be scarce enough to command a premium. The increase in happiness will lead to more kindliness, and even war (which involves a good deal of work) will be less welcome. Good-naturedness derives from security, not from constant struggle. We can have security without our current combination of overwork for some and unemployment for others. Russell concludes his essay with a resounding echo of what his godfather, John Stuart Mill, wrote nearly 90 years earlier. Here is Mill: “Hitherto [1848] it is questionable if all the mechanical inventions yet made have lightened the day's toil of any human being.”
And here is Russell’s update: “Hitherto we have continued to be as energetic as we were before there were machines; in this we have been foolish, but there is no reason to go on being foolish for ever [p. 25].”
The essay opens by noting that this is a case of doing what I say, not what I do. I [Russell] was imprinted in childhood with the notion that work was virtuous, and my dutiful nature rendered me evermore hardworking. But I do not believe that hard work and virtue are kin; indeed, I believe that this opinion is harmful, and that a world of more leisure would be a better place.
The notion that there are a fixed number of jobs, so that one person stopping work makes way for someone else to work, is not correct and of course not the basis for my call for idleness. A worker earns money, and the spending of this money helps to feed others. A person who chooses to save (and not through a bank), however, does not generate the income and employment benefits that come from a spender.
Many savers lend their money to a government, which typically needs to borrow to pay the monetary tab of its previous or intended wars. Such a loan promotes the military, and is akin to hiring assassins. “Obviously it would be better if he [a saver who lends to a government] spent the money, even if he spent it in drink or gambling [p. 12].”
You might think that investing saved resources in an industry will generate jobs, but most such businesses fail, and so the labor that goes into them is wasted. At least if you spend on parties you and your friends get some consumption benefits, and the suppliers (including “the bootlegger”) earn income. Nonetheless, those who become bankrupt through failed investments are seen as unfortunate, while those whose excessive spending supports sociability are held in contempt. [These passages of Russell’s can be compared with those of Adam Smith, who also compares unfortunate investors with spenders, and differentiates between those who spend on durable goods and those who spend on immediate consumption. The wealth of society is advanced more by spending on durables than by throwing parties, according to Smith. But not all dimensions of concern favor the person who invests in durable goods (II.3.42): “I would not, however, by all this be understood to mean that the one species of expence always betokens a more liberal or generous spirit than the other. When a man of fortune spends his revenue chiefly in hospitality, he shares the greater part of it with his friends and companions; but when he employs it in purchasing such durable commodities, he often spends the whole upon his own person, and gives nothing to anybody without an equivalent. The latter species of expence, therefore, especially when directed towards frivolous objects, the little ornaments of dress and furniture, jewels, trinkets, gewgaws, frequently indicates, not only a trifling, but a base and selfish disposition.”]
Back to Russell. Work involves either acting upon matter, or ordering other people to act upon matter. [This sounds like a Russellian trope I have come across before, but I cannot place it. Maybe it is Marx instead? – RBR] “The first kind [of work] is unpleasant and ill paid; the second is pleasant and highly paid [p. 13].” There can be an extensive ecology of order-givers and their advisors. Politics involves opposing advisors, and the requisite skill is persuasion, not knowledge of the specific area of contention. Besides the two types of workers, Europe also has a landowning class that receives tribute. Landowners are exemplars of idleness, but not the species that I [Russell] favor. They can only be idle because others are hard-working, and landowners have no interest in seeing their brand of idleness become more universally established.
Up to the Industrial Revolution, a hardworking family generally could maintain subsistence, with most of the surplus being taken by the military and the clergy. In difficult times, the working people might starve, but the military and clergy generally remained provided for. This historical legacy is no longer descriptive of much of the world, but views concerning the virtues of work tend to be relics of this earlier era. The leisure that previously belonged only to the small privileged classes can now, thanks to increased productivity, be distributed more broadly. “The morality of work is the morality of slaves, and the modern world has no need of slavery [p. 14].” [So, for Russell, the virtue of work is one of those ideas which have become obsolete.]
Eventually, the force that allowed the privileged to grab surplus production spawned a legitimating ideology advancing the morality of hard work and a duty to transfer the surplus. The ideology exists to this day: the vast majority of British people would be astonished at a proposal that the King receive a standard, working-class salary. At times the privileged classes have used the leisure that was bestowed upon them by the exploitation of working people in ways that have advanced civilization; nonetheless, it is the leisure, not the hard work of others, that is desirable. Civilization now can move forward through an alternate channel, one that spreads leisure widely.
Wartime demonstrated the vast extent of the economic surplus. Despite huge swaths of humanity, both men and women, being removed from productive labour in favor of war making and materiel manufacture, the average person on the side of the Allies was maintained in excellent physical condition. (Don’t be fooled by the mysteries of finance, whereby wartime borrowing generates the illusion that today’s subsistence is provided by the future.) The war indicated that with a rational approach to production, everyone could be maintained despite only a small number of workers being devoted to providing the means of maintenance. A peacetime version of such rationality would allow living standards to be sustained on just four hours of work (per worker) per day. Instead, the chaotic approach to production was reinstituted post-war, where long hours for some workers were matched by involuntary unemployment – and starvation – for others.
Consider [shades of Adam] a pin factory, that happens to make the entire world supply of pins, with employees working eight hours per day. Technical advance brings a machine that allows pins to be made with only half the labor previously required. But pins already are fairly inexpensive, and even with a price fall, the world doesn’t really require any more pins. “In a sensible world, everybody concerned in the manufacture of pins would take to working four hours instead of eight, and everything else would go on as before [p. 16].” But what will actually happen is that there will be lots of short-term disruption and bankruptcies, and in the end, half of the workers will continue to work eight hours per day and the other half will become unemployed. Note that the rational method and the actual method involve the same aggregate amount of leisure, but the rational method makes leisure more widespread while still maintaining full employment. The actual method ensures misery for all, the unemployed and the overworked alike.
Rich people cannot abide leisure for poor people. Efforts to cut the huge working hours (even for children) in the nineteenth century routinely were met with claims that the long hours contributed to morality. But the duty to work should go no further than restitution for a person’s maintenance. Of course, much of the upper class is allowed their copious consumption without any work requirement. But their leisure is not as objectionable as are the requisite long working hours of the non-rich.
Rich men in America often work long hours, and are opposed to leisure time for the working class or even for their own sons. The aristocratic duty of leisure is one that they endorse only for women.
Making good use of leisure is itself a skill that requires education and refinement. People who have not developed this skill, and who are habituated to long hours of work, will find leisure extremely dull. “But without a considerable amount of leisure a man is cut off from many of the best things [p. 18].” So let’s make sure that the widespread leisure that is available in theory is available in practice.
Soviet ideology promoting the virtue of work is the usual elite claptrap aimed at the poor – though the concocted deity who approves is not a traditional god, but rather dialectical materialism. The rise of the Russian proletariat has some parallels with the rise of feminism. Women traditionally were praised for their virtue, which was a religious obligation, and made to believe that the barriers erected to preclude female power were more than compensated for by their saintliness. [Russell is echoing his godfather; for instance, from Chapter One (page 27) of The Subjection of Women: “All women are brought up from the very earliest years in the belief that their ideal of character is the very opposite to that of men; not self-will, and government by self-control, but submission, and yielding to the control of others. All the moralities tell them that it is the duty of women, and all the current sentimentalities that it is their nature, to live for others; to make complete abnegation of themselves, and to have no life but in their affections. And by their affections are meant the only ones they are allowed to have—those to the men with whom they are connected, or to the children who constitute an additional and indefeasible tie between them and a man.”]
Back to Bertie. Manual labor has been extolled in Russia just as the virtue of female dependency has been trumpeted more broadly. Russia even has its version of religious revival meetings, where young people are barraged with appeals to provide labor for some special project, appeals based on the virtue of such labor. Perhaps such an approach is reasonable while Russia remains undeveloped, and not yet in a position where leisure could be universal. It is likely, however, that even as the Russian economy expands, it will be hard for the authorities to allow leisure to take hold, given the ideological attachment to manual work as good in and of itself (page 21).
The west has its own approaches to make sure that manual labor is highly valued. With no interest in economic justice, the fact that consumption is skewed towards the rich means that everyone else must work for their daily bread. The reserve army of the unemployed ensures that output is scarce, so that surely, it would seem, widespread leisure would not be compatible with decent living standards. “When all these methods prove inadequate, we have a war: we cause a number of people to manufacture high explosives, and a number of others to explode them, as if we were children who had just discovered fireworks [p. 20].”
Manual labor is necessary but not a goal in itself, though we often extoll it as though it were such a goal. This preaching serves to keep the poor in their place; the rich “preach the dignity of labour, while taking care themselves to be undignified in this respect [p. 21].” But no manual labourer is taken in, no one views his leisure as an unfortunate but occasionally necessary intrusion into his righteous employment. Rather, work is regarded as necessary for life, but their happiness is connected to their leisure. [Bertie here is unwittingly(?) seconding Marx’s views of labor under capitalism: “First, the fact that labor is external to the worker, i.e., it does not belong to his intrinsic nature; that in his work, therefore, he does not affirm himself but denies himself, does not feel content but unhappy, does not develop freely his physical and mental energy but mortifies his body and ruins his mind. The worker therefore only feels himself outside his work, and in his work feels outside himself. He feels at home when he is not working, and when he is working he does not feel at home. His labor is therefore not voluntary, but coerced; it is forced labor. It is therefore not the satisfaction of a need; it is merely a means to satisfy needs external to it. Its alien character emerges clearly in the fact that as soon as no physical or other compulsion exists, labor is shunned like the plague.” The reason that I suspect (but do not know) that the connection is unwitting is because the quoted passage comes from Marx’s Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, which were published in the original German by the Soviets just a few years before In Praise of Idleness, and were not available in English for a couple more decades.]
Will people know how to fill their leisure time if we instituted a four-hour working day? Surely in the past, when people were more light-hearted, this would not have been an issue. But now efficiency is king, and activity that does not entail financial profit is suspect. Those who provide commodities and even leisure goods, then, are engaged in worthwhile work, it is thought, while those who consume any more than is necessary to remain a productive worker are being dangerously unserious. This view is obviously mistaken. “Whatever merit there may be in the production of goods must be entirely derivative from the advantage to be obtained by consuming them [p. 22].” But society acts as if it is more concerned with production than with consumption, and undervalues the happiness induced by enjoying consumption. [Adam Smith once again serves as a precursor (IV.8.49): “Consumption is the sole end and purpose of all production; and the interest of the producer ought to be attended to only so far as it may be necessary for promoting that of the consumer.”]
A four-hour work day doesn’t mean that the rest of the hours are frittered away. With the necessaries and conveniencies [as Adam Smith might have put it] of life secure, the remaining time can be used in freely chosen pursuits. Education must be up to the task, however, of inculcating preferences for, and knowledge of, fruitful uses of leisure time. These needn’t be elitist tastes. They would be active, however, unlike the passive spectatorship that now is common, and is the requisite use of leisure given long work hours.
The leisure class used to comprise but the privileged few, whose privilege undermined their ethics and sympathies; nonetheless, even in this withered state, most of the progress of civilization, in arts, sciences, philosophy, and literature, can be laid at the feet of the leisure class. But the unequal distribution of leisure was extraordinarily inefficient, as much of the leisure class had neither the talent nor the diligence to make much of their gift. The universities now provide a more organized attempt to promote progress, but they, too, are not a full answer in a world where those outside of the universities lack unstructured time. Those inside the universities are too cut off from the larger society, too restricted in their style of communication, and too tied to the status quo framework to induce major strides for civilization.
The better system is where limited work hours for all ensures that any person with passion and a scientific or artistic or literary idea can pursue that idea, without being beholden to the market for livelihood. [A similar formulation appeared in Proposed Roads to Freedom.] People with political or economic notions will not be cloistered in an ivory tower, and hence not as susceptible as they now are to give to airy nothings a local habitation and a name. Physicians and teachers will have the time to keep up with the advances in their fields.
Happiness will spread as fatigue and strained nerves become less common. Those four hours of work will not exhaust laborers, and leisure will still be scarce enough to command a premium. The increase in happiness will lead to more kindliness, and even war (which involves a good deal of work) will be less welcome. Good-naturedness derives from security, not from constant struggle. We can have security without our current combination of overwork for some and unemployment for others. Russell concludes his essay with a resounding echo of what his godfather, John Stuart Mill, wrote nearly 90 years earlier. Here is Mill: “Hitherto [1848] it is questionable if all the mechanical inventions yet made have lightened the day's toil of any human being.”
And here is Russell’s update: “Hitherto we have continued to be as energetic as we were before there were machines; in this we have been foolish, but there is no reason to go on being foolish for ever [p. 25].”
Monday, January 27, 2014
In Praise of Idleness, Introductory Matter
Introduction and Preface, pages vii-xx, and 9-10
Things get underway with an Introduction by Howard Woodhouse, who indicates that his own opportunity for idleness on an academic sabbatical deepened his appreciation for the “useless” knowledge that he uncovered when re-reading In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays. Much of Woodhouse’s Introduction is itself a sort of Reading Bertrand Russell-style summentary of the remainder of the book, so I will offer only a brief outline of the Introduction here. The Introduction suggests to me that the ideas advanced in In Praise of Idleness will largely be familiar Russellian notions, as put forth especially in Proposed Roads to Freedom, Bolshevism and the West, Education and the Good Life, and (subsequent to In Praise of Idleness) Unpopular Essays.
[Note: It appears that Woodhouse’s Introduction is available on the web here, via a portal (that I just learned about) that aims to make Russell’s work accessible to Japanese speakers. This availability will itself reduce the extent of my own summentary on the Introduction; please follow the standard advice accompanying a recommended link by reading the (original) whole thing.]
As the title might suggest, Russell’s recurrent policy proposal of arranging worklives so that idleness and seemingly useless endeavors will be economically and socially viable will feature in In Praise of Idleness. By Russell’s accounting, work as currently arranged possesses an undeserved favorable reputation, despite the lack of enjoyment that work brings to many people. More freedom to follow one’s muse, however trivial or playful that muse might be, would conduce to individual wellbeing. Such freedom also would have the further useful effects of combating dogmatism and opening minds to opinions and ideas that are uncongenial.
Indeed, anti-dogmatism and the promotion of tolerance are themes that permeate the essays of In Praise of Idlenesss [as they later would provide themes for Unpopular Essays.] These virtues would stimulate free speech, and the resulting debate – shades once again of Russell’s godfather – would benefit the world, primarily by enhancing social justice. The acceptance of useless activities and knowledge proves useful after all.
Russell found a striking uniformity of thinking in the US when he visited in 1930, a uniformity that has many negative features – including much overt nationalism – even as it perhaps is requisite for economic dynamism.
Fascism and communism are some popular isms [recall that In Praise of Idleness was published in 1935] that Russell reviles. Fascism is the greater of these twin evils, deplorable both in means and ends. Russell identifies the German nationalistic thinking of Johann Gottlieb Fichte as providing some of the intellectual underpinning of fascism. Industrialists and the military in Germany both viewed Bolshevism as a threat, further preparing the ground for fascist ideology. Russell finds common cause with communism’s goal of social equality, but sees (once again) the Bolshevik revolutionary route to that goal as leading to despotism.
Russell follows up his Bolshevism and the West debate with further thoughts on a peaceful evolution to democratic socialism. There are large economic gains available by reducing both weapons production and nationalist, militaristic thinking. Russell also builds on his proposals to ensure that women have more financial independence and opportunities in the workplace. He envisions the availability of public housing with communal spaces and childcare facilities.
Idleness has to have an expanded role in the education of the young, and teachers are overworked – both of these ideas were expressed by Russell elsewhere. Teachers and parents need to exercise their authority at selected times, in a manner that ultimately promotes the necessary development of voluntary perseverance in the young. The result will be a citizenry that can employ reason to see through the illogic of many a supposed expert.
Russell propounds that a world government, perhaps coercively introduced, is the path to ending nationalism, war, and many other ills, while providing the soil for unfettered thinking to sprout. [Russell’s defense of a coercive introduction of world government is viewed as a mistake (p. xvi) by the Introduction’s author, Howard Woodhouse, a mistake that can be employed as a rationalization for war.]
Russell has been accused of not recognizing the material standard of living decline that would result from shortened workdays. But Russell cares about wellbeing, not material living standards, and sees the potential for betterment when lifestyles are not dominated by work. The information revolution, like previous advances, has not lessened labor’s load. [Recall John Stuart Mill’s observation: “Hitherto [1848] it is questionable if all the mechanical inventions yet made have lightened the day's toil of any human being.”] Russell imagines a world in which improvements in technique could be used to free up time for activity that, though quite valuable, is not necessarily economically profitable.
Dr. Woodhouse notes that already in 1923 Karel Capek wrote an essay entitled (in English translation) “In Praise of Idleness.” [The English version is available here, on pages 80-82.] Russell’s teacher and then colleague, Alfred North Whitehead, was another contemporary who has kind words for idleness, and who deplores the extent to which work has undermined the pleasure that people can take from their own craftsmanship; readers of both can see the long-term mutual influences between Russell and Whitehead. [Readers who would like to learn more of Dr. Woodhouse’s thoughts on Russell and idleness can check out his 2001 journal article, non-free version available here. A fun 1983 book reprinted the pro-leisure views of Russell and other luminaries.]
Woodhouse’s Introduction is followed by Russell’s slightly-more-than-one page Preface. Russell mentions a couple of brief essays in the volume that were passed over in Woodhouse’s Introduction, one concerning insects and another (the last in the book) on the soul. “The general thesis which binds the essays together is that the world is suffering from intolerance and bigotry, and from the belief that vigorous action is admirable even when misguided… [p. 9].” We could do instead with some “calm consideration.”
Russell concludes his preface by noting that many of the essays (though neither insects nor souls!) had previously been published elsewhere, and recognizes Peter Spence for her assistance in discussing the material; she (Peter was her nickname) became Bertrand Russell’s third wife the year after In Praise of Idleness was published.
Things get underway with an Introduction by Howard Woodhouse, who indicates that his own opportunity for idleness on an academic sabbatical deepened his appreciation for the “useless” knowledge that he uncovered when re-reading In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays. Much of Woodhouse’s Introduction is itself a sort of Reading Bertrand Russell-style summentary of the remainder of the book, so I will offer only a brief outline of the Introduction here. The Introduction suggests to me that the ideas advanced in In Praise of Idleness will largely be familiar Russellian notions, as put forth especially in Proposed Roads to Freedom, Bolshevism and the West, Education and the Good Life, and (subsequent to In Praise of Idleness) Unpopular Essays.
[Note: It appears that Woodhouse’s Introduction is available on the web here, via a portal (that I just learned about) that aims to make Russell’s work accessible to Japanese speakers. This availability will itself reduce the extent of my own summentary on the Introduction; please follow the standard advice accompanying a recommended link by reading the (original) whole thing.]
As the title might suggest, Russell’s recurrent policy proposal of arranging worklives so that idleness and seemingly useless endeavors will be economically and socially viable will feature in In Praise of Idleness. By Russell’s accounting, work as currently arranged possesses an undeserved favorable reputation, despite the lack of enjoyment that work brings to many people. More freedom to follow one’s muse, however trivial or playful that muse might be, would conduce to individual wellbeing. Such freedom also would have the further useful effects of combating dogmatism and opening minds to opinions and ideas that are uncongenial.
Indeed, anti-dogmatism and the promotion of tolerance are themes that permeate the essays of In Praise of Idlenesss [as they later would provide themes for Unpopular Essays.] These virtues would stimulate free speech, and the resulting debate – shades once again of Russell’s godfather – would benefit the world, primarily by enhancing social justice. The acceptance of useless activities and knowledge proves useful after all.
Russell found a striking uniformity of thinking in the US when he visited in 1930, a uniformity that has many negative features – including much overt nationalism – even as it perhaps is requisite for economic dynamism.
Fascism and communism are some popular isms [recall that In Praise of Idleness was published in 1935] that Russell reviles. Fascism is the greater of these twin evils, deplorable both in means and ends. Russell identifies the German nationalistic thinking of Johann Gottlieb Fichte as providing some of the intellectual underpinning of fascism. Industrialists and the military in Germany both viewed Bolshevism as a threat, further preparing the ground for fascist ideology. Russell finds common cause with communism’s goal of social equality, but sees (once again) the Bolshevik revolutionary route to that goal as leading to despotism.
Russell follows up his Bolshevism and the West debate with further thoughts on a peaceful evolution to democratic socialism. There are large economic gains available by reducing both weapons production and nationalist, militaristic thinking. Russell also builds on his proposals to ensure that women have more financial independence and opportunities in the workplace. He envisions the availability of public housing with communal spaces and childcare facilities.
Idleness has to have an expanded role in the education of the young, and teachers are overworked – both of these ideas were expressed by Russell elsewhere. Teachers and parents need to exercise their authority at selected times, in a manner that ultimately promotes the necessary development of voluntary perseverance in the young. The result will be a citizenry that can employ reason to see through the illogic of many a supposed expert.
Russell propounds that a world government, perhaps coercively introduced, is the path to ending nationalism, war, and many other ills, while providing the soil for unfettered thinking to sprout. [Russell’s defense of a coercive introduction of world government is viewed as a mistake (p. xvi) by the Introduction’s author, Howard Woodhouse, a mistake that can be employed as a rationalization for war.]
Russell has been accused of not recognizing the material standard of living decline that would result from shortened workdays. But Russell cares about wellbeing, not material living standards, and sees the potential for betterment when lifestyles are not dominated by work. The information revolution, like previous advances, has not lessened labor’s load. [Recall John Stuart Mill’s observation: “Hitherto [1848] it is questionable if all the mechanical inventions yet made have lightened the day's toil of any human being.”] Russell imagines a world in which improvements in technique could be used to free up time for activity that, though quite valuable, is not necessarily economically profitable.
Dr. Woodhouse notes that already in 1923 Karel Capek wrote an essay entitled (in English translation) “In Praise of Idleness.” [The English version is available here, on pages 80-82.] Russell’s teacher and then colleague, Alfred North Whitehead, was another contemporary who has kind words for idleness, and who deplores the extent to which work has undermined the pleasure that people can take from their own craftsmanship; readers of both can see the long-term mutual influences between Russell and Whitehead. [Readers who would like to learn more of Dr. Woodhouse’s thoughts on Russell and idleness can check out his 2001 journal article, non-free version available here. A fun 1983 book reprinted the pro-leisure views of Russell and other luminaries.]
Woodhouse’s Introduction is followed by Russell’s slightly-more-than-one page Preface. Russell mentions a couple of brief essays in the volume that were passed over in Woodhouse’s Introduction, one concerning insects and another (the last in the book) on the soul. “The general thesis which binds the essays together is that the world is suffering from intolerance and bigotry, and from the belief that vigorous action is admirable even when misguided… [p. 9].” We could do instead with some “calm consideration.”
Russell concludes his preface by noting that many of the essays (though neither insects nor souls!) had previously been published elsewhere, and recognizes Peter Spence for her assistance in discussing the material; she (Peter was her nickname) became Bertrand Russell’s third wife the year after In Praise of Idleness was published.
Monday, December 30, 2013
Next Up: In Praise of Idleness
My slavish/sloven devotion to The Plan continues apace (OK, a very leisurely apace). In Praise of Idleness (speaking of leisure) is now the subject/victim of the Reading Bertrand Russell method. The full title is In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays. (Recall, not that there is much of a need to, that the full title of Portraits From Memory is Portraits From Memory and Other Essays; I sense a theme.) In Praise of Idleness – I will often use this title as shorthand for the entire book – first was published in 1935; my version is a Routledge paperback from 2003. This edition, unlike the original, starts with an Introduction of approximately 14 pages by Howard Woodhouse, a scholar of education at the University of Saskatchewan. I believe this Introduction was itself introduced for the second Routledge reprint of 1996 – the initial Routledge edition was issued in 1994. The Woodhousean Introduction is followed by a Russellian Preface of a bit more than one page. The Preface is followed in turn by the fifteen essays that constitute the remainder (pages 11-174) of the book. The numbering system at the beginning is opaque – why the Preface begins (apparently) on page 9 subsequent to the end of the Introduction on page xx – there are no pages labeled 1, 2, … 8 – remains a mystery that Reading Bertrand Russell cannot penetrate. Further, the mystery is recurring, for Unpopular Essays presents a similar page-numbering conundrum.
Here are the titles of the fifteen chapters of In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays:
1. In Praise of Idleness
2. ‘Useless’ Knowledge
3. Architecture and Social Questions
4. The Modern Midas
5. The Ancestry of Fascism
6. Scylla and Charybdis, or Communism and Fascism
7. The Case for Socialism
8. Western Civilisation
9. On Youthful Cynicism
10. Modern Homogeneity
11. Man versus Insects
12. Education and Discipline
13. Stoicism and Mental Health
14. On Comets
15. What is the Soul?
Here we go, in search of plan fulfillment (and hence with more than the usual frisson of excitement), to In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays.
Here are the titles of the fifteen chapters of In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays:
1. In Praise of Idleness
2. ‘Useless’ Knowledge
3. Architecture and Social Questions
4. The Modern Midas
5. The Ancestry of Fascism
6. Scylla and Charybdis, or Communism and Fascism
7. The Case for Socialism
8. Western Civilisation
9. On Youthful Cynicism
10. Modern Homogeneity
11. Man versus Insects
12. Education and Discipline
13. Stoicism and Mental Health
14. On Comets
15. What is the Soul?
Here we go, in search of plan fulfillment (and hence with more than the usual frisson of excitement), to In Praise of Idleness and Other Essays.
Monday, December 9, 2013
New Hopes for a Changing World, Full Time
[The review of the first part (man v. nature) of New Hopes for a Changing World is here, and the review of the second part (man v. other men) is here.] This full-time review will concentrate, therefore, on the third part of the book, that devoted to man’s internal struggle.
Competition, an ideal for many economists, is almost the villain of the piece for Russell (as it is for Marx). The adverse consequences of competition, which receive frequent attention in the third part of New Hopes for a Changing World, are foreshadowed in part 2, in the chapter “Economic Co-operation and Competition.” Competition was individually rational when subsistence was at stake, but that need not be the case anymore. Market competition leads to misery for workers, and has proven unstable within large industries (on the labor side and on the production side), as monopoly power grows. International trade is no free market realm either, because governments eventually take control (or businesses take control of governments). In Chapter 16, wars and socialism are laid at the feet of a misguided obeisance to free trade. Our commitment to competition is a position which has become obsolete, in the sense that it no longer serves our interests, not that it has disappeared. Economic cooperation, not competition, would lead to better results for all. Competition for academic scholarships among school children is pernicious as well.
How to overcome our perverse attraction for rivalry and aggression? Russell recommends, among other things, that we face our fears, especially fear of the unfamiliar, and recognize that these fears, too, generally are irrational. The purging of irrational fears is difficult, in part because much traditional morality pushes in the opposite direction, stoking fears of sin and guilt, and some politicians see their wellbeing as tied to excessive fears in the populace. The mechanism seeking to instill traditional morality involves the fear of worldly or extra-worldly retribution – even of the eternal sort. These fears are supposed to be sufficient to deter people from indulging their desires. Russell anticipates modern research on willpower, which sees self-control as a resource that can be depleted in the short-run through overuse – and hence willpower is a thin reed to rely on if your goal is to prevent succumbing to temptation.
Humans (in much of the world) have only recently stopped existing as flies to wanton boys – our increased control in the conflict between man and nature makes it possible to widen our sympathies, to identify with all of humanity. It is economic progress that has rendered fear to be more excessive than it used to be, but it is also that progress that should make us hopeful. The world will continue to advance, one person at a time, if we maintain our commitment to hope – rational hope, like irrational fear, is contagious. Policy can help, by improving the distribution of the means of subsistence, and by offering social insurance to reduce the fear of destitution. Global governance can minimize adverse environmental spillovers and lead to better stewardship of our natural resources. Education can help, too – after all, as cooperation is consistent with enlightened self-interest, we should spread enlightenment, in part by forbidding the state dissemination of nationalistic propaganda, and by rendering foreigners more familiar. Information about contraception, and contraceptives themselves, can be made available. Human flourishing also requires that we subsidize non-conformity, ensuring that committed non-conformists have the time and means to indulge their eccentricity: the most valuable ideas are hatched within non-conforming minds. Excessive respect for customary ways is one of those ideas which have become obsolete (Chapter 16).
Russell’s contention that our commitment to aggression can be successfully combatted is made more plausible, I think, by the analogy with dueling which he mentions in Chapter 16. The intellectual and social respect that often is accorded “hawks” can be withdrawn as we become more aware of the risks of hawkishness – “witch-hunts within, and wars without [p. 170]” – and reduce the scope of our fears to a reasonable level. (Russell also raises (again, and here) the physical punishment of children, a longstanding practice that lacks an evidentiary base and is seeing its social approval dry up.) Perhaps we will find, as Russell suggests, that the occasions for which hawkishness makes sense will themselves diminish once the behavior of hawks is no longer countenanced.
Though hawkishness is itself irrational, humans cannot be indifferent about the outcome of the Cold War. The Soviet cult of the state is sure to enervate humanity, to the point where mankind might not be worth saving.
The hopes that Russell is making a case for are reasonable, not beyond humanity’s grasp: the changes with respect to dueling and the physical punishment of children are part of the relatively recent substantiation. In The Conquest of Happiness, Russell described the sort of positive feedback that dominates the happiness realm, where (for instance) a smiling face is received well by others, whose approval then helps both to justify the initial smile and to spread it. Hopes have the same facility to cascade. A hopeful person avoids irrational fears, and responds in a calm, prudent fashion to those fears that are rational. The open nature of such a person tends to diminish aggression from others. Russell’s goal is to widen the group of people who themselves have widened their sympathies, until a sort of herd immunity against aggression can be established. The achievement (or perhaps the stability) of that immunity will require the standard Russell prescription of a monopoly on force controlled by a global body.
Russell saw great promise for the cinema in contributing to education and in broadening horizons. What would he make of the internet? Those histories that are composed by foreigners, a global university that is available to anyone who is interested (Chapter 21) – these are now more-or-less realities. Yes, the internet is full of “predatory nationalism [p. 209],” and worse, but the voices of reason and compassion are there, too. If Russell is correct, that an enlightened self-interest would be enough to spur “The Happy World,” then the internet surely can help us to achieve it. (And if Russell is wrong, well, we have his old compensation of returning the globe to “harmless trilobites and butterflies.”)
Somehow I find recent events within Mormonism to be, well, hopeful, in this regard. The internet has made available information (along with, no doubt, some misinformation) about the church’s history – information that has not been featured in official church teachings. This information raises doubts among some believers. At times the initial reaction of church leaders, it seems, was to try to suppress the information, but this is a strategy that the internet renders rather impotent. From the linked New York Times article: “In the last 10 or 15 years, [a Mormon history professor] said, 'the church has come to realize that transparency and candor and historical accuracy are really the only way to go.'” It may be that the virtues of candor and accuracy are becoming wise policy more broadly, now that clear inaccuracies are likely to come to the public’s attention via the web. Or at least one can hope.
Competition, an ideal for many economists, is almost the villain of the piece for Russell (as it is for Marx). The adverse consequences of competition, which receive frequent attention in the third part of New Hopes for a Changing World, are foreshadowed in part 2, in the chapter “Economic Co-operation and Competition.” Competition was individually rational when subsistence was at stake, but that need not be the case anymore. Market competition leads to misery for workers, and has proven unstable within large industries (on the labor side and on the production side), as monopoly power grows. International trade is no free market realm either, because governments eventually take control (or businesses take control of governments). In Chapter 16, wars and socialism are laid at the feet of a misguided obeisance to free trade. Our commitment to competition is a position which has become obsolete, in the sense that it no longer serves our interests, not that it has disappeared. Economic cooperation, not competition, would lead to better results for all. Competition for academic scholarships among school children is pernicious as well.
How to overcome our perverse attraction for rivalry and aggression? Russell recommends, among other things, that we face our fears, especially fear of the unfamiliar, and recognize that these fears, too, generally are irrational. The purging of irrational fears is difficult, in part because much traditional morality pushes in the opposite direction, stoking fears of sin and guilt, and some politicians see their wellbeing as tied to excessive fears in the populace. The mechanism seeking to instill traditional morality involves the fear of worldly or extra-worldly retribution – even of the eternal sort. These fears are supposed to be sufficient to deter people from indulging their desires. Russell anticipates modern research on willpower, which sees self-control as a resource that can be depleted in the short-run through overuse – and hence willpower is a thin reed to rely on if your goal is to prevent succumbing to temptation.
Humans (in much of the world) have only recently stopped existing as flies to wanton boys – our increased control in the conflict between man and nature makes it possible to widen our sympathies, to identify with all of humanity. It is economic progress that has rendered fear to be more excessive than it used to be, but it is also that progress that should make us hopeful. The world will continue to advance, one person at a time, if we maintain our commitment to hope – rational hope, like irrational fear, is contagious. Policy can help, by improving the distribution of the means of subsistence, and by offering social insurance to reduce the fear of destitution. Global governance can minimize adverse environmental spillovers and lead to better stewardship of our natural resources. Education can help, too – after all, as cooperation is consistent with enlightened self-interest, we should spread enlightenment, in part by forbidding the state dissemination of nationalistic propaganda, and by rendering foreigners more familiar. Information about contraception, and contraceptives themselves, can be made available. Human flourishing also requires that we subsidize non-conformity, ensuring that committed non-conformists have the time and means to indulge their eccentricity: the most valuable ideas are hatched within non-conforming minds. Excessive respect for customary ways is one of those ideas which have become obsolete (Chapter 16).
Russell’s contention that our commitment to aggression can be successfully combatted is made more plausible, I think, by the analogy with dueling which he mentions in Chapter 16. The intellectual and social respect that often is accorded “hawks” can be withdrawn as we become more aware of the risks of hawkishness – “witch-hunts within, and wars without [p. 170]” – and reduce the scope of our fears to a reasonable level. (Russell also raises (again, and here) the physical punishment of children, a longstanding practice that lacks an evidentiary base and is seeing its social approval dry up.) Perhaps we will find, as Russell suggests, that the occasions for which hawkishness makes sense will themselves diminish once the behavior of hawks is no longer countenanced.
Though hawkishness is itself irrational, humans cannot be indifferent about the outcome of the Cold War. The Soviet cult of the state is sure to enervate humanity, to the point where mankind might not be worth saving.
The hopes that Russell is making a case for are reasonable, not beyond humanity’s grasp: the changes with respect to dueling and the physical punishment of children are part of the relatively recent substantiation. In The Conquest of Happiness, Russell described the sort of positive feedback that dominates the happiness realm, where (for instance) a smiling face is received well by others, whose approval then helps both to justify the initial smile and to spread it. Hopes have the same facility to cascade. A hopeful person avoids irrational fears, and responds in a calm, prudent fashion to those fears that are rational. The open nature of such a person tends to diminish aggression from others. Russell’s goal is to widen the group of people who themselves have widened their sympathies, until a sort of herd immunity against aggression can be established. The achievement (or perhaps the stability) of that immunity will require the standard Russell prescription of a monopoly on force controlled by a global body.
Russell saw great promise for the cinema in contributing to education and in broadening horizons. What would he make of the internet? Those histories that are composed by foreigners, a global university that is available to anyone who is interested (Chapter 21) – these are now more-or-less realities. Yes, the internet is full of “predatory nationalism [p. 209],” and worse, but the voices of reason and compassion are there, too. If Russell is correct, that an enlightened self-interest would be enough to spur “The Happy World,” then the internet surely can help us to achieve it. (And if Russell is wrong, well, we have his old compensation of returning the globe to “harmless trilobites and butterflies.”)
Somehow I find recent events within Mormonism to be, well, hopeful, in this regard. The internet has made available information (along with, no doubt, some misinformation) about the church’s history – information that has not been featured in official church teachings. This information raises doubts among some believers. At times the initial reaction of church leaders, it seems, was to try to suppress the information, but this is a strategy that the internet renders rather impotent. From the linked New York Times article: “In the last 10 or 15 years, [a Mormon history professor] said, 'the church has come to realize that transparency and candor and historical accuracy are really the only way to go.'” It may be that the virtues of candor and accuracy are becoming wise policy more broadly, now that clear inaccuracies are likely to come to the public’s attention via the web. Or at least one can hope.
Saturday, November 16, 2013
New Hopes for a Changing World, Chapter Twenty-One
“The Happy World,” pages 206-213
The goal has been to record some facts, and to identify hopes that are sensible to hold in light of those facts. The facts involve the possibility that the struggle for existence can be eased for all humans, and that, as a result, cooperation on a global scale is a possibility, one that offers much better prospects than continued rivalry. The hopes are that this pleasant prospect can indeed be realized.
Of course, there are legitimate fears, too. But we excessively dwell on fears, and it is hope, not fear, that points the way forward. Grounded, sensible hopes can erode the fear.
Let’s assume that the recognition of the need for human unity has been accomplished. What will be necessary to bring a happy resolution to the longstanding, fundamental conflicts of man versus nature, man versus other men, and man versus himself?
In the man versus nature conflict, an international body will be needed to direct “the production and distribution of food and raw materials [p. 207].” Farming that undermines the long-term fertility of the soil – a practice that might be rational for an individual farmer in the short-term – would be prevented. No one will have the right to be prodigal with the agricultural capital that future generations will depend upon. The international authority also will collect and disseminate information on scientific farming. While destructive farming techniques can be prohibited, no one need be compelled to adopt the best agricultural methods.
“As I write a dangerous dispute is in progress concerning Iranian oil [p. 208].” [Sigh.] The dispute concerns which country among many claimants owns the oil. But the oil was put there by nature, not by any nation, so why should any nation own it? (The oil won’t be used by any single nation, either.) The oil, like other natural resources, should be internationally owned and rationed, to avoid the wars and strife that result from national control.
Population pressures need to be checked by means of education and universal availability of contraception, along with economic development of the poorer regions of the world.
International, monopoly control of the most potent instruments of war is vital to quell conflicts among men. Education will have to be regulated, to prevent the teaching of a “predatory nationalism [p. 209],” including narrow and biased history: history books should have to be approved by the international authorities. [Recall that Russell endorses having histories of a nation written by foreigners, to overcome the usual national aggrandizement.] Economics should emphasize the superiority of cooperation over competition in the modern world. A gradual implementation of free trade, freedom to travel, and student exchanges: all these should be part of the policy mix. An international university, available to good students from any corner of the globe, will attract internationally-minded faculty and students.
People need security from the crowd and from their inner terrors. The animus of the crowd itself usually draws from the personal fears of those who comprise the herd. Wise and loving care in the first few years of life can go a long way towards ameliorating private fears. Still, crowds can be roused to unjust anger, so places of sanctuary, a sort of refugee status for the innocent, must be available.
Provision must be made to promote individuality. Old timers will fail to recognize exceptional talents, so an Academy for poets and writers and other creative people should be by and for the young. The shorter working hours would leave time for those outside of the Academy, too, to indulge their tastes and talents, and adventurous pursuits would be available to the risk seekers. Family money has, in the past, allowed some people (Darwin and Milton, among others) with unpopular ideas to thrive. The future society has to ensure that there are mechanisms permitting exceptional, unpopular people to do their work. [Russell hit upon this theme in The Conquest of Happiness, too.]
Global security comes at too high of a price if it eliminates what is exceptional in humans. The version of security that Russell has outlined, however, is likely to end the psychological barriers to non-conformity. “If this is indeed the case, and if such institutions as I have spoken of can be established, the happy world that I am envisaging can be not only happy but glorious [p. 212].” We do not need tormented souls to bring forth wonderful creations. Humanity is far more capable than the current stunted model suggests, if we choose to unleash its power. [Russell indulges (again) his own taste for vibrant verbiage extolling the potential for mankind.]
[On security being mortals’ chiefest enemy, Russell’s godfather provides some pertinent prose: "He who lets the world, or his own portion of it, choose his plan of life for him, has no need of any other faculty than the ape-like one of imitation. He who chooses his plan for himself, employs all his faculties. He must use observation to see, reasoning and judgment to foresee, activity to gather materials for decision, discrimination to decide, and when he has decided, firmness and self-control to hold to his deliberate decision. And these qualities he requires and exercises exactly in proportion as the part of his conduct which he determines according to his own judgment and feelings is a large one. It is possible that he might be guided in some good path, and kept out of harm's way, without any of these things. But what will be his comparative worth as a human being? It really is of importance, not only what men do, but also what manner of men they are that do it. Among the works of man, which human life is rightly employed in perfecting and beautifying, the first in importance surely is man himself. Supposing it were possible to get houses built, corn grown, battles fought, causes tried, and even churches erected and prayers said, by machinery—by automatons in human form—it would be a considerable loss to exchange for these automatons even the men and women who at present inhabit the more civilized parts of the world, and who assuredly are but starved specimens of what nature can and will produce. Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, and set to do exactly the work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develope itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces which make it a living thing."]
How far homo sapiens has travelled, leaving a desert to enter a comparative Eden. But we are reluctant to recognize our good fortune, and we cling to outdated fears and hates, including self-hate. We must embrace our intelligence and the path to peace and prosperity that it promises. We can choose happiness and achieve peace; the alternative is an extinction that would be, if chosen, deserved.
[As noted in the introductory post, New Hopes for a Changing World concludes with an About The Author paragraph.]
The goal has been to record some facts, and to identify hopes that are sensible to hold in light of those facts. The facts involve the possibility that the struggle for existence can be eased for all humans, and that, as a result, cooperation on a global scale is a possibility, one that offers much better prospects than continued rivalry. The hopes are that this pleasant prospect can indeed be realized.
Of course, there are legitimate fears, too. But we excessively dwell on fears, and it is hope, not fear, that points the way forward. Grounded, sensible hopes can erode the fear.
Let’s assume that the recognition of the need for human unity has been accomplished. What will be necessary to bring a happy resolution to the longstanding, fundamental conflicts of man versus nature, man versus other men, and man versus himself?
In the man versus nature conflict, an international body will be needed to direct “the production and distribution of food and raw materials [p. 207].” Farming that undermines the long-term fertility of the soil – a practice that might be rational for an individual farmer in the short-term – would be prevented. No one will have the right to be prodigal with the agricultural capital that future generations will depend upon. The international authority also will collect and disseminate information on scientific farming. While destructive farming techniques can be prohibited, no one need be compelled to adopt the best agricultural methods.
“As I write a dangerous dispute is in progress concerning Iranian oil [p. 208].” [Sigh.] The dispute concerns which country among many claimants owns the oil. But the oil was put there by nature, not by any nation, so why should any nation own it? (The oil won’t be used by any single nation, either.) The oil, like other natural resources, should be internationally owned and rationed, to avoid the wars and strife that result from national control.
Population pressures need to be checked by means of education and universal availability of contraception, along with economic development of the poorer regions of the world.
International, monopoly control of the most potent instruments of war is vital to quell conflicts among men. Education will have to be regulated, to prevent the teaching of a “predatory nationalism [p. 209],” including narrow and biased history: history books should have to be approved by the international authorities. [Recall that Russell endorses having histories of a nation written by foreigners, to overcome the usual national aggrandizement.] Economics should emphasize the superiority of cooperation over competition in the modern world. A gradual implementation of free trade, freedom to travel, and student exchanges: all these should be part of the policy mix. An international university, available to good students from any corner of the globe, will attract internationally-minded faculty and students.
People need security from the crowd and from their inner terrors. The animus of the crowd itself usually draws from the personal fears of those who comprise the herd. Wise and loving care in the first few years of life can go a long way towards ameliorating private fears. Still, crowds can be roused to unjust anger, so places of sanctuary, a sort of refugee status for the innocent, must be available.
Provision must be made to promote individuality. Old timers will fail to recognize exceptional talents, so an Academy for poets and writers and other creative people should be by and for the young. The shorter working hours would leave time for those outside of the Academy, too, to indulge their tastes and talents, and adventurous pursuits would be available to the risk seekers. Family money has, in the past, allowed some people (Darwin and Milton, among others) with unpopular ideas to thrive. The future society has to ensure that there are mechanisms permitting exceptional, unpopular people to do their work. [Russell hit upon this theme in The Conquest of Happiness, too.]
Global security comes at too high of a price if it eliminates what is exceptional in humans. The version of security that Russell has outlined, however, is likely to end the psychological barriers to non-conformity. “If this is indeed the case, and if such institutions as I have spoken of can be established, the happy world that I am envisaging can be not only happy but glorious [p. 212].” We do not need tormented souls to bring forth wonderful creations. Humanity is far more capable than the current stunted model suggests, if we choose to unleash its power. [Russell indulges (again) his own taste for vibrant verbiage extolling the potential for mankind.]
[On security being mortals’ chiefest enemy, Russell’s godfather provides some pertinent prose: "He who lets the world, or his own portion of it, choose his plan of life for him, has no need of any other faculty than the ape-like one of imitation. He who chooses his plan for himself, employs all his faculties. He must use observation to see, reasoning and judgment to foresee, activity to gather materials for decision, discrimination to decide, and when he has decided, firmness and self-control to hold to his deliberate decision. And these qualities he requires and exercises exactly in proportion as the part of his conduct which he determines according to his own judgment and feelings is a large one. It is possible that he might be guided in some good path, and kept out of harm's way, without any of these things. But what will be his comparative worth as a human being? It really is of importance, not only what men do, but also what manner of men they are that do it. Among the works of man, which human life is rightly employed in perfecting and beautifying, the first in importance surely is man himself. Supposing it were possible to get houses built, corn grown, battles fought, causes tried, and even churches erected and prayers said, by machinery—by automatons in human form—it would be a considerable loss to exchange for these automatons even the men and women who at present inhabit the more civilized parts of the world, and who assuredly are but starved specimens of what nature can and will produce. Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, and set to do exactly the work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develope itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces which make it a living thing."]
How far homo sapiens has travelled, leaving a desert to enter a comparative Eden. But we are reluctant to recognize our good fortune, and we cling to outdated fears and hates, including self-hate. We must embrace our intelligence and the path to peace and prosperity that it promises. We can choose happiness and achieve peace; the alternative is an extinction that would be, if chosen, deserved.
[As noted in the introductory post, New Hopes for a Changing World concludes with an About The Author paragraph.]
Sunday, November 10, 2013
New Hopes for a Changing World, Chapter Twenty
“The Happy Man,” pages 197-205
[Chapter 17 of Russell’s The Conquest of Happiness, published 21 years prior to New Hopes for a Changing World, also is entitled “The Happy Man.” Did the requisites for happiness change between 1930 and 1951? The chapters are quite different, though their tone is similar, as is their ending.]
This chapter will present a vision of what would be feasible for humans, if we decided to pursue it. Right now, only a few people can live in the manner described, and during wartime, we lack even these happy few.
The happy man starts off as a happy child, one who receives parental affection, from two parents who find their parenting to be a mutually pleasurable partnership, and for whom marriage bonds are not simply restraints upon sexuality. The child spends times with lots of other children, outdoors when the weather permits. [Russell speaks well of spending time outdoors in Education and the Good Life, too.] The surroundings of the children have been child-proofed in the sense that those surroundings cannot be badly damaged by normal energetic activity, and also in the sense that children needn’t fear severe accidental harm. Their own potential depredations upon each other must be prevented, and generally can be prevented through the positive means of providing interesting activities.
Children feel secure in the presence of routine and affection. They need freedom to grow, and can be encouraged to use this freedom to experiment with new activities.
“Scholastic education is a tiresome necessity [p. 198].” Yes, people need to be prepared to operate in a civilized world, but that preparation need not involve the familiar drudgery. The educational focus (in Europe) on intellectual conversation instead of manual abilities is probably a leftover from the elite ancient Greeks, who had slaves to ensure that the actual work was accomplished. Boys with manual interests and talents should be in workshops for much of their schooling, not at desks. “All education can be pleasant if the child feels that it is important [p. 199].” Children often are correct when they suspect that they are engaging in pointless educational tasks.
Russell once again endorses the cinema as an educational tool (page 200), this time for history and geography – the pleasure of watching will spur attentiveness and promote retention. When a child meets a Zulu, he will view him as familiar, having earlier seen a film on Zulu culture. Kids who develop a taste for specific historical or cultural topics will proceed to seek out books concerning their interests, but in the meantime, all the children will have had their horizons expanded via movies.
Other elements of culture, such as art, music, and literature, should be available to those with an interest, but not force fed through the standard grind, as Shakespeare often gets delivered. The pedants should not be allowed to extract all the pleasure out of culture, and then subject children to the fun-free version.
The competition for academic scholarships in Europe is so intense that even the winners are badly damaged. [Russell exhorted against academic competition some 32 years prior in Proposed Roads to Freedom.] The underlying problem is funding, and that problem is intense because physical insecurity results in large resources being directed towards arms. In a world conducive to happiness, interest and not examination results would determine access to higher education. [See also Education and the Good Life, Chapter 18.]
“In every society, however Utopian, every healthy adult will be expected to do some kind of useful work [p. 202].” Remaining idle is not the recipe for happiness, but six hours of work per day would suffice to maintain a livelihood if economic life were rationalized. [In 1919, Russell thought four hours of work per day would be enough to secure a high living standard.] People should be able to work half-time for half-pay, so that exceptional talents could be given the opportunity to bloom [another echo of the circa-1919 Russell] – the best work is always undervalued contemporaneously.
An upbringing divorced from the usual diet of fear and sin will render the happy man open to others, possessing a generous spirit. He will be friendly, trusting that people will not abuse his friendly overtures, and his friendliness itself will typically validate that trust. He will understand the folly of war, and will be predisposed towards kind regards for foreign countries. [Russell’s happy man, though more free and open, has much in common with the prudent and virtuous man of Adam Smith’s description, as put forth in Part 6 of The Theory of Moral Sentiments. Here is Smith on regard for foreign nations (TMS VI.II.28): “France and England may each of them have some reason to dread the increase of the naval and military power of the other; but for either of them to envy the internal happiness and prosperity of the other, the cultivation of its lands, the advancement of its manufactures, the increase of its commerce, the security and number of its ports and harbours, its proficiency in all the liberal arts and sciences, is surely beneath the dignity of two such great nations. These are all real improvements of the world we live in. Mankind are benefited, human nature is ennobled by them. In such improvements each nation ought, not only to endeavour itself to excel, but from the love of mankind, to promote, instead of obstructing the excellence of its neighbours. These are all proper objects of national emulation, not of national prejudice or envy.”]
Back to Bertie. “Inventors of Utopias usually make them intolerably dull, because their main preoccupation is with security [pages 202-203].” While broadly speaking, security is necessary, some adventure is needed, too, for fomenting happiness. It should be possible for people with a taste for active exploits to be able to save up and to travel to exotic locales to indulge such a preference. This possibility is open to a few hardy souls now, as the Kon-Tiki and Desperate Voyage indicate. [Recall Russell noted in Chapter 17 the interest in seeking out risky leisure activities by people living in a relatively secure world.] Adventurous pursuits should be made more available, and might even substitute for competitive behaviors that harm others.
So a happy man owes his happiness both to favorable external circumstances, and to a temperament bequeathed to him by a wise and loving upbringing. He will enjoy work and family life, and not go through middle age (as many men now do) with a sense of failure. In old age, he will look back with few regrets.
“The art of growing old is one which the passage of time has forced upon my attention [p. 204].” [The sentence that immediately follows the one just quoted starts a four-paragraph section that was reprinted (word-for-word, excepting the final sentence) in Russell’s Portraits From Memory. There, the four paragraphs form part, but only part, of his essay entitled “How to Grow Old”.] One key to a happy old age is to avoid dwelling in the past, while similarly avoiding negative comparisons between your current emotional and mental make-up and that of your younger self. A second key [and here is a close parallel with Russell’s much earlier “The Happy Man” essay] is to develop impersonal interests, as you do not want to burden your children with keeping you company. Broad, impersonal interests can even dilute the fear of death, and make the process of death akin, intellectually and emotionally, to the gradual merging of a widening river with the larger sea.
[Chapter 17 of Russell’s The Conquest of Happiness, published 21 years prior to New Hopes for a Changing World, also is entitled “The Happy Man.” Did the requisites for happiness change between 1930 and 1951? The chapters are quite different, though their tone is similar, as is their ending.]
This chapter will present a vision of what would be feasible for humans, if we decided to pursue it. Right now, only a few people can live in the manner described, and during wartime, we lack even these happy few.
The happy man starts off as a happy child, one who receives parental affection, from two parents who find their parenting to be a mutually pleasurable partnership, and for whom marriage bonds are not simply restraints upon sexuality. The child spends times with lots of other children, outdoors when the weather permits. [Russell speaks well of spending time outdoors in Education and the Good Life, too.] The surroundings of the children have been child-proofed in the sense that those surroundings cannot be badly damaged by normal energetic activity, and also in the sense that children needn’t fear severe accidental harm. Their own potential depredations upon each other must be prevented, and generally can be prevented through the positive means of providing interesting activities.
Children feel secure in the presence of routine and affection. They need freedom to grow, and can be encouraged to use this freedom to experiment with new activities.
“Scholastic education is a tiresome necessity [p. 198].” Yes, people need to be prepared to operate in a civilized world, but that preparation need not involve the familiar drudgery. The educational focus (in Europe) on intellectual conversation instead of manual abilities is probably a leftover from the elite ancient Greeks, who had slaves to ensure that the actual work was accomplished. Boys with manual interests and talents should be in workshops for much of their schooling, not at desks. “All education can be pleasant if the child feels that it is important [p. 199].” Children often are correct when they suspect that they are engaging in pointless educational tasks.
Russell once again endorses the cinema as an educational tool (page 200), this time for history and geography – the pleasure of watching will spur attentiveness and promote retention. When a child meets a Zulu, he will view him as familiar, having earlier seen a film on Zulu culture. Kids who develop a taste for specific historical or cultural topics will proceed to seek out books concerning their interests, but in the meantime, all the children will have had their horizons expanded via movies.
Other elements of culture, such as art, music, and literature, should be available to those with an interest, but not force fed through the standard grind, as Shakespeare often gets delivered. The pedants should not be allowed to extract all the pleasure out of culture, and then subject children to the fun-free version.
The competition for academic scholarships in Europe is so intense that even the winners are badly damaged. [Russell exhorted against academic competition some 32 years prior in Proposed Roads to Freedom.] The underlying problem is funding, and that problem is intense because physical insecurity results in large resources being directed towards arms. In a world conducive to happiness, interest and not examination results would determine access to higher education. [See also Education and the Good Life, Chapter 18.]
“In every society, however Utopian, every healthy adult will be expected to do some kind of useful work [p. 202].” Remaining idle is not the recipe for happiness, but six hours of work per day would suffice to maintain a livelihood if economic life were rationalized. [In 1919, Russell thought four hours of work per day would be enough to secure a high living standard.] People should be able to work half-time for half-pay, so that exceptional talents could be given the opportunity to bloom [another echo of the circa-1919 Russell] – the best work is always undervalued contemporaneously.
An upbringing divorced from the usual diet of fear and sin will render the happy man open to others, possessing a generous spirit. He will be friendly, trusting that people will not abuse his friendly overtures, and his friendliness itself will typically validate that trust. He will understand the folly of war, and will be predisposed towards kind regards for foreign countries. [Russell’s happy man, though more free and open, has much in common with the prudent and virtuous man of Adam Smith’s description, as put forth in Part 6 of The Theory of Moral Sentiments. Here is Smith on regard for foreign nations (TMS VI.II.28): “France and England may each of them have some reason to dread the increase of the naval and military power of the other; but for either of them to envy the internal happiness and prosperity of the other, the cultivation of its lands, the advancement of its manufactures, the increase of its commerce, the security and number of its ports and harbours, its proficiency in all the liberal arts and sciences, is surely beneath the dignity of two such great nations. These are all real improvements of the world we live in. Mankind are benefited, human nature is ennobled by them. In such improvements each nation ought, not only to endeavour itself to excel, but from the love of mankind, to promote, instead of obstructing the excellence of its neighbours. These are all proper objects of national emulation, not of national prejudice or envy.”]
Back to Bertie. “Inventors of Utopias usually make them intolerably dull, because their main preoccupation is with security [pages 202-203].” While broadly speaking, security is necessary, some adventure is needed, too, for fomenting happiness. It should be possible for people with a taste for active exploits to be able to save up and to travel to exotic locales to indulge such a preference. This possibility is open to a few hardy souls now, as the Kon-Tiki and Desperate Voyage indicate. [Recall Russell noted in Chapter 17 the interest in seeking out risky leisure activities by people living in a relatively secure world.] Adventurous pursuits should be made more available, and might even substitute for competitive behaviors that harm others.
So a happy man owes his happiness both to favorable external circumstances, and to a temperament bequeathed to him by a wise and loving upbringing. He will enjoy work and family life, and not go through middle age (as many men now do) with a sense of failure. In old age, he will look back with few regrets.
“The art of growing old is one which the passage of time has forced upon my attention [p. 204].” [The sentence that immediately follows the one just quoted starts a four-paragraph section that was reprinted (word-for-word, excepting the final sentence) in Russell’s Portraits From Memory. There, the four paragraphs form part, but only part, of his essay entitled “How to Grow Old”.] One key to a happy old age is to avoid dwelling in the past, while similarly avoiding negative comparisons between your current emotional and mental make-up and that of your younger self. A second key [and here is a close parallel with Russell’s much earlier “The Happy Man” essay] is to develop impersonal interests, as you do not want to burden your children with keeping you company. Broad, impersonal interests can even dilute the fear of death, and make the process of death akin, intellectually and emotionally, to the gradual merging of a widening river with the larger sea.
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