XIII
The Secret of Progress
I Have said that the essence of the social process is the creating of ever new values through the interplay of all the forces of life. But I have also tried to show that these forces must be organized; from confusion nothing is born. The spiritual order grows up within us as fast as we make new correlations. Chaos, disorder, destruction, come everywhere from refusing the syntheses of life.
The task of coadaptation is unending, whether it means getting on with a difficult member of my family, playing the game at school or college, doing my part in my business, my city, or whether it means Germany and the Allies living together on the same planet.
Nietzsche thought that the man who showed the most force was the most virtuous. Now we say that all this brute energy is merely the given, that the life-process is the unifying of the given—he who shows the unifying power in greatest degree is the superman. Progress is not determined then by economic conditions, by physical conditions nor by biological factors solely, but more especially by our capacity for genuine cooperation.
This idea of progress clear-cuts some long-established notions. We see now the truth and the fallacy in the assertions (1) that social evolution depends upon individual progress with imitation by the crowd, (2) that evolution means struggle and the survival of the fittest.
For some years the generally accepted theory of the social process was that the individual invents, society spreads. We have already examined one half of this theory; let us look at the other half—the idea that the individual originates.
If a man comes forward with an idea, what do we mean by saying that he is more “original” than his fellows? So far as the quality of originality can be described, do we not mean that his capacity for saturation is greater, his connection with the psychic reservoir more direct, so that some group finds in him its most complete interpreter? Or even if it is quite evident that in a particular instance a particular individual has not derived his idea from the group of which he is at the moment a member, but has brought it to the group, none of us believes that that idea arose spontaneously in his mind independent of all previous association. This individual has belonged to many other groups, has discussed with many men, or even if he has lived his life apart he has read newspapers and magazines, books and letters, and has mingled his ideas with those he has found there. Thus the “individual” idea he brings to a group is not really an “individual” idea; it is the result of the process of interpenetration, but by bringing it to a new group and soaking it in that the interpenetration becomes more complex. The group idea he takes away is now his individual idea so far as any new group is concerned, and in fact it becomes an active agent in his progress and the progress of society only by meeting a new group. Our life is more and more stagnant in proportion as we refuse the group life.
According to the old theory, the individual proposes, society accepts or rejects; the individual is forever walking up to society to be embraced or rejected—it sounds like some game but is hardly life.
There is an interesting theory current which is the direct outcome of the fallacy that the individual originates and society imitates, namely, the great man theory. While it seems absurd in this age to be combating the idea of special creation, yet it is something very like this that one comes up against sometimes in the discussion of this theory. The question is often asked, “Does the great man produce his environment or is he the product of his environment?” Although for my purpose I may seem to emphasize the other side of things, not for a moment do I wish to belittle the inestimable value of genius. But the fact of course is that great men make their environment and are made by their environment. There wells up in the individual a fountain of power, but this fountain has risen underground and is richly fed by all the streams of the common life.30
I have spoken of fallacies in the individual invention theory and in the struggle theory. But I am using the word struggle as synonymous with strife, opposition, war; effort, striving, the ceaseless labor of adjustment will always be ours, but these two ideas represent opposite poles of existence. In the true theory of evolution struggle has indeed always been adaptation. For many years the “strongest” man has been to science the being with the greatest number of points of union, the “fittest” has been the one with the greatest power of cooperation. Darwin we all know believed that the cause of the advance of civilization was in the social habits of man. Our latest biologists tell us that “mutual aid” has from the first been a strong factor in evolution, that the animal species in which the practice of “mutual aid”31 has attained the greatest development are invariably the most numerous and the most prosperous. We no longer think of the animal world as necessarily a world of strife; in many of its forms we find not strife but coordinated activities.
But to too many people struggle suggests conquest and domination; it implies necessarily victors and vanquished. Some sociologists call the dissimilar elements of a group the struggle elements, and the similar elements the unifying elements. But this is a false distinction which will, as long as persisted in, continue the war between classes and between nations. The test of our progress is neither our likenesses nor our unlikenesses, but what we are going to do with our unlikenesses. Shall I fight whatever is different from me or find the higher synthesis? The progress of society is measured by its power to unite into a living, generating whole its self-yielding differences.
Moreover, we think now of the survival of groups rather than of individuals. For the survival of the group the stronger members must not crush the weaker but cherish them, because the spiritual and social strength which will come from the latter course makes a stronger group than the mere brute strength of a number of “strong” individuals. That is, the strength of the group does not depend on the greatest number of strong men, but on the strength of the bond between them, that is, on the amount of solidarity, on the best organization.
But it might be said, “You still evidently believe in struggle, only you make the group instead of the individual the unit.” No, the progress of man must consist in extending the group, in belonging to many groups, in the relation of these groups. If we accept life as endless battle, then we shall always have the strong overcoming the weak, either strong individuals conquering the weak, or a strong group a weak group, or a strong nation a weak nation. But synthesis is the principle of life, the method of social progress. Men have developed not through struggle but through learning how to live together.
Lately the struggle theory has been transferred from the physical to the intellectual world. Many writers who see society as a continuous conflict think its highest form is discussion. One of these says, “Not for a moment would I deny that fighting is better carried on by the pen than by the sword, but some sort of fighting will be necessary to the end of the world.” No, as long as we think of discussion as a struggle, as an opportunity for “argument,” there will be all the usual evil consequences of the struggle theory. But all this is superficial. If struggle is unavailing, it is unavailing all along the line. It is not intellectual struggle that marks the line of progress, but any signs of finding another method than struggle. Two neighbors quarrelling in words are little more developed than two men fighting a duel. We must learn to think of discussion not as a struggle but as experiment in cooperation. We must learn cooperative thinking, intellectual teamwork. There is a secret here which is going to revolutionize the world.
Perhaps the most profound reason against struggle is that it always erects a thing-in-itself. If I “fight” Mr. X, that means that I think of Mr. X as incapable of change—that either he or I must prevail, must conquer. When I realize fully that there are no things-in-themselves, struggle simply fades away; then I know that Mr. X and I are two flowing streams of activity which must meet for larger ends than either could pursue alone.
Is Germany the last stronghold of the old theory of evolution, is she the last being in a modern world to assert herself as a thing-in-itself? President Wilson’s contribution to this war is that he refuses to look upon Germany as a thing-in-itself.
The idea of adaptation to environment has been so closely connected with the “struggle for existence” theory that some people do not seem to realize that in giving up the latter, the former still has force, although with a somewhat different connotation. We now feel not only that adaptation to environment is compatible with cooperation, but that cooperation is the basis of adaptation to environment. But our true environment is psychic, and as science teaches adaptation to the physical, so group psychology will teach the secret of membership in the psychic environment, will teach the branch to know its vine, where its own inner sources of life are revealed to it. Then we shall understand that environment is not a hard and rigid something external to us, always working upon us, whose influence we cannot escape. Not only have self and environment acted and reacted upon each other, but the action and reaction go on every moment; both self and environment are always in the making. The individual who has been affected by his environment acts on an environment which has been affected by individuals. We shall need an understanding of this for all our constructive work: it is not that formative influences work on a dead mass of inertia, but formative influences work on an environment which has already responded to initiatives, and these initiatives have been affected by the responses. We cannot be practical politicians without fully understanding this.
Progress then must be through the group process. Progress implies respect for the creative process not the created thing; the created thing is forever and forever being left behind us. The greatest blow to a hidebound conservatism would be the understanding that life is creative at every moment. What the hard-shelled conservative always forgets is that what he really admires in the past is those very moments when men have strongly and rudely broken with tradition, burst bonds, and created something. True conservatism and true progressivism are not two opposites: conservatives dislike “change,” yet they as well as progressives want to grow; progressives dislike to “stand pat,” yet they as well as conservatives want to preserve what is good in the present. But conservatives often make the mistake of thinking they can go on living on their spiritual capital; progressives are often too prone not to fund their capital at all.
What we must get away from is “the hell of rigid things.” There is a living life of the people. And it must flow directly through our government and our institutions, expressing itself anew at every moment. We are not fossils petrified in our social strata. We are alive. This is the first lesson for us to learn. That very word means change and change, growth and growth. To live gloriously is to change undauntedly—our ideals must evolve from day to day, and it is upon those who can fearlessly embrace the doctrine of “becoming” that the life of the future waits. All is growing; we must recognize this and free the way for the growth. We must unclose our spiritual sources, we must allow no mechanism to come between our spiritual sources and our life. The élan vital must have free play.
Democracy must be conceived as a process, not a goal. We do not want rigid institutions, however good. We need no “body of truth” of any kind, but the will to will, which means the power to make our own government, our own institutions, our own expanding truth. We progress, not from one institution to another, but from a lesser to a greater will to will.
We know now that there are no immutable goals—there is only a way, a process, by which we shall, like gods, create our own ends at any moment—crystallize just enough to be of use and then flow on again. The flow of life and we the flow: this is the truth. Life is not a matter of desirable objects here and there; the stream flows on and he who waits with his object is left with a corpse. Man is equal to life at every moment, but he must live for life and not for the things life has produced.
Yet while it is true that life can never be formalized or formulated, that life is movement, change, onwardness, this does not mean that we must give up the abiding. The unchangeable and the unchanging are both included in the idea of growth.32 Stability is neither rigidity nor sterility: it is the perpetual power of bringing forth.
Writers are always fixing dates for the dividing line between the ancient and the modern world, or between the medieval and the modern world. Soon the beginning of modern times, of modern thought, will, I believe, be dated at the moment when men began to look at a plastic world, at a life constantly changing, at institutions as only temporary crystallizations of life forces, of right as evolving, of men as becoming.
The real work of every man is then to build. The challenge is upon us. This is the task to which all valiant souls must set themselves. We are to rise from one mastery to another. We are to be no longer satisfied with the pace of a merely fortuitous progress. We must know now that we are coworkers with every process of creation, that our function is as important as the power which keeps the stars in their orbits. We are creators here and now. We are not in the anteroom of our real life. This is real life.
We cannot, however, mould our lives each by himself; but within every individual is the power of joining himself fundamentally and vitally to other lives, and out of this vital union comes the creative power. Revelation, if we want it to be continuous, must be through the community bond. No individual can change the disorder and iniquity of this world. No chaotic mass of men and women can do it. Conscious group creation is to be the social and political force of the future. Our aim must be to live consciously in more and more group relations and to make each group a means of creating. It is the group which will teach us that we are not puppets of fate.
Then will men and women spend their time in trivial or evil ways when they discover that they can make a world to their liking? We are sometimes told that young men and women working all day under the present very trying industrial conditions live in our great cities a round of gaiety at night. Go and look at them. It is a depressing sight. A tragedy is a tragedy and has its own nobility, but this farce of a city population enjoying itself at night is a pitiful spectacle. Go to clubs, go to dances, go to theatres or moving-pictures, and the mass of our young people look indifferent and more or less bored—they have not found the joy of life. Play, as useless idling, does not give us joy. Work, as drudgery, does not give us joy. Only creating gives us joy. When we see that we are absolute masters of our life, that in every operation, however humble, we are working out the fundamental laws of being, then we shall walk to our daily work as the soldiers march to the Marseillaise.
We know what happened on that lonely island in a distant sea when the young Prince came to the people of the Kingdom of Cards, who had always lived by Rules, and taught them to live by their Ichcha, their will. Images became men and women, rules gave place to wills, the caste of the Court cards was lost, a mechanism changed into life. The inhabitants of the Kingdom of Cards, who had never thought, who had never made a decision, learned the royal power of choosing for themselves. Regulations were abandoned, and the startling discovery was made that they could walk in any direction they chose. This is what we need to learn—that we can walk in any direction we choose. We are not a pack of cards to be put here and there, to go always in rows, to totter and fall when we are not propped up. We must obey our Ichcha.
Already the change has begun. I have said that we are beginning to recognize this power—there are many indications that we are beginning to live this power. We are no longer willing to leave human affairs to “natural” control: we do not want war because it is “natural” to fight; we do not want a haphazard population at the dictates of “nature.” We no longer believe that sickness and poverty are sent by God; people are being taught that they need not be sick, that it is largely in their own hands, their own collective hands (social hygiene etc.). Modern charity is not aimed at relieving individual poverty, but at freeing the individual from the particular enslavement which has produced his poverty, in freeing society from the causes which produce poverty at all.33
Our once-honored blind forces are more and more losing their mastery over us. We are at this moment, however, in a difficult transition period. We are “freer” than ever before; the trouble is we do not know what to do with this freedom. It is easy to live the moral, the “social,” life when it consists in following a path carefully marked out for us, but the task given us today is to revalue all the world values, to steer straight on and on into the unknown—a gallant forth-faring indeed. But conscious evolution, the endless process of a perfect coordinating, demands vital people. War is the easy way: we take to war because we have not enough vitality for the far more difficult job of agreeing. So also that kind of religion which consists of contemplation of otherworldliness is the easy way, and we take to that when we have not enough vitality deliberately to direct our life and construct our world. It takes more spiritual energy to express the group spirit than the particularist spirit. This is its glory as well as its difficulty. We have to be higher order of beings to do it—we become higher order of beings by doing it. And so the progress goes on forever: it means life forever in the making, and the creative responsibility of every man.
Conscious evolution is the key to that larger view of democracy which we are embracing today. The key? Every man sharing in the creative process is democracy; this is our politics and our religion. People are always inquiring into their relation to God. God is the moving force of the world, the ever-continuing creating where men are the co-creators. “Chaque homme fait dieu, un peu, avec sa vie,” as one of the most illumined of the younger French poets says.34 Man and God are correlates of that mighty movement which is Humanity self-creating. God is the perpetual Call to our self-fulfilling. We, by sharing in the life-process which binds all together in an active, working unity are all the time sharing in the making of the Universe. This thought calls forth everything heroic that is in us; every power of which we are capable must be gathered to this glorious destiny. This is the True Democracy.35