DEMOCRACY OF THE FUTURE

The growth of the democratic spirit is one of the most important facts in the political life of the nineteenth century. All countries under the influence of Western civilization show the same tendency. New political ideas irreconcilably opposed to the view of government generally accepted in the past are everywhere gaining recognition. Under the influence of this new conception of the state the monarchies and aristocracies of the past are being transformed into the democracies of the future. We of the present day, however, are still largely in the trammels of the old, though our goal is the freedom of the new. We have not yet reached, but are merely traveling toward democracy. The progress which we have made is largely a progress in thought and ideals. We have imbibed more of the spirit of popular government. In our way of thinking, our point of view, our accepted political philosophy, there has been a marked change. Everywhere, too, with the progress of scientific knowledge and the spread of popular education, the masses are coming to a consciousness of their strength. They are circumscribing the power of ruling classes and abolishing their exclusive privileges which control of the state has made it possible for them to defend in the past. From present indications we are at the threshold of a new social order under which the few will no longer rule the many.

Democracy may be regarded, according to the standpoint from which we view it, either as an intellectual or as a moral movement. It is intellectual in that it presupposes a more or less general diffusion of intelligence, and moral in that its aim is justice. It could not have appeared or become a social force until man became a thinker and critic of existing social arrangements. It was first necessary that he should acquire a point of view and a habit of thought that give him a measure of intellectual independence and enable him to regard social institutions and arrangements as human devices more or less imperfect and unjust. This thought can not be grasped without its correlative—the possibility of improvement. Hence democracy everywhere stands for political and social reform.

Democracy is modern, since it is only within recent times that the general diffusion of knowledge has been possible. The invention of printing, by making possible a cheap popular literature, contributed more than any other one fact to the intellectual and moral awakening which marks the beginning of modern times. The introduction of printing, however, did not find a democratic literature ready for general distribution, or the people ready for its appearance. A long period of slow preparation followed, during which the masses were being educated. Moreover, it is only within recent times that governments would have permitted the creation and diffusion of a democratic literature. For a long time after printing was invented the ruling classes carefully guarded against any use of the newly discovered art that might be calculated to undermine their authority. Books containing new and dangerous doctrines were rigorously proscribed and the people carefully protected from the disturbing influence of such views as might shake their faith in the wisdom and justice of the existing social order.[198]

It is perhaps fortunate for the world that the political and social results of printing were not comprehended at the time of its introduction. Had the ruling classes foreseen that it would lead to the gradual shifting of political power from themselves to the masses, it is not unlikely that they would have regarded it as a pernicious innovation.

But, as is the case with all great inventions, its full significance was not at first understood. Silently and almost imperceptibly it paved the way for a social and political revolution. The gradual diffusion of knowledge among the people prepared them for the contemplation of a new social order. They began to think, to question and to doubt, and thenceforth the power and prestige of the ruling classes began to decline. From that time on there has been an unceasing struggle between the privileged few and the unprivileged many. We see it in the peaceful process of legislation as well as in the more violent contest of war. After each success the masses have demanded still greater concessions, until now, with a broader outlook and a larger conception of human destiny, they demand the complete and untrammeled control of the state.

To the student of political science, then, the spirit and temper, the aims and ideals of the new social order now coming into existence, are a matter of supreme importance. That our industrial system will be profoundly modified may be conceded. Other consequences more difficult to foresee because less direct and immediate, but not necessarily less important, may be regarded as not unlikely. That our ideas of right and wrong, our conception of civic duty, and human character itself will be modified as a result of such far-reaching changes in social relations, may be expected. But while the more remote and indirect consequences of democracy may not be foreseen, some of its immediate results are reasonably certain.

The immediate aim of democracy is political. It seeks to overthrow every form of class rule and bring about such changes in existing governments as will make the will of the people supreme. But political reform is regarded not as an end in itself. It is simply a means. Government is a complex and supremely important piece of social machinery. Through it the manifold activities of society are organized, directed and controlled. In a very real sense it is the most important of all social institutions, since from its very nature it is the embodiment of social force, asserting and maintaining a recognized supremacy over all other social institutions and agencies whatever, modifying and adapting them to suit the purposes and achieve the ends of those who control the state.

The form or type of government is all-important, since it involves the question as to the proper end of government as well as the proper means of attaining it. Our notion of what constitutes the best political system depends on our general theory of society—our conception of justice, progress and social well-being. As government by the few inevitably results in the welfare of the few being regarded as the chief concern of the state, the widest possible diffusion of political power is the only guarantee that government will seek the welfare of the many.

The advocate of democracy does not think that it will be a perfect government, but he does believe that it will in the long run be the best, most equitable and most progressive which it is possible to establish. Government by the few and government by the many stand for widely divergent and irreconcilable theories of progress and social well-being. As the methods, aims, and social ideals of an aristocracy are not those of which a democratic society would approve, it necessarily follows that the purposes of democracy can be accomplished only through a government which the people control.

Modern science has given a decided impetus to the democratic movement by making a comfortable existence possible for the many. It has explored the depths of the earth and revealed hidden treasures of which previous ages did not even dream. Inventions and discoveries far-reaching in influence and revolutionary in character have followed each other in rapid succession. With the progress of the sciences and mechanical arts, man's power to control and utilize the forces and materials which nature has so bountifully provided has been enormously increased; and yet, much as has been accomplished in this field of human endeavor, there is reason to believe that the conquest of the material world has but just begun. The future may hold in store for us far greater achievements along this line than any the world has yet seen.

It is not surprising, then, that the masses should feel that they have received too little benefit from this marvelous material progress. For just in proportion as the old political system has survived, with its privileged classes, its checks on the people and its class ascendency in government, the benefits of material progress have been monopolized by the few. Against this intrusion of the old order into modern society the spirit of democracy revolts. It demands control of the state to the end that the product of industry may be equitably distributed. As the uncompromising enemy of monopoly in every form, it demands first of all equality of opportunity.

Democracy, however, is not a mere scheme for the redistribution of wealth. It is fundamentally a theory of social progress. In so far as it involves the distribution of wealth, it does so as a necessary condition or means of progress, and not as an end in itself.

Democracy would raise government to the rank and dignity of a science by making it appeal to the reason instead of the fear and superstition of the people. The governments of the past, basing their claims upon divine right, bear about the same relation to democracy that astrology and alchemy do to the modern sciences of astronomy and chemistry. The old political order everywhere represented itself as superimposed on man from above, and, thus clothed with a sort of divine sanction, it was exalted above the reach of criticism. The growth of intelligence has dispelled one by one the crude political superstitions upon which the old governmental arrangements rested. More and more man is coming to look upon government as a purely human agency which he may freely modify and adapt to his purposes. The blind unthinking reverence with which he regarded it in the past is giving way to a critical scientific spirit. Nor has this change in our point of view in any way degraded government. In stripping it of the pretence of divine authority, it has in reality been placed upon a more enduring basis. In so far as it can no longer claim respect to which it is not entitled we have a guarantee that it can not persistently disregard the welfare of the people.

Democracy owes much to modern scientific research. With the advance of knowledge we have gained a new view of the world. Physics, astronomy, and geology have shown us that the physical universe is undergoing a process of continual change. Biology, too, has revolutionized our notion of life. Nothing is fixed and immutable as was once supposed, but change is universal. The contraction of the earth's crust with its resultant changes in the distribution of land and water, and the continual modification of climate and physical conditions generally have throughout the past wrought changes in the form and character of all animal and vegetable life. Every individual organism and every species must change as the world around it changes, or death is the penalty. No form of life can long survive which does not possess in a considerable degree the power of adaptation. Innumerable species have disappeared because of their inability to adjust themselves to a constantly changing environment. It is from this point of view of continuous adjustment that modern science regards the whole problem of life individual and collective.

We must not, however, assume that what is true of the lower forms of life is equally true of the higher. In carrying the conceptions of biology over into the domain of social science we must be careful to observe that here the process of adapting life to its environment assumes a new and higher phase. In the lower animal world the life-sustaining activities are individual. Division of labor is either entirely absent or plays a part so unimportant that we may for purposes of comparison assume its absence. The individual animal has free access to surrounding nature, unrestrained by social institutions or private property in the environment. For the members of a given group there is what may be described as equality of opportunity. Hence it follows that the individuals which are best suited to the environment will thrive best and will tend to crowd out the others.

But when we come to human society this is not necessarily true. Here a social environment has been created—a complex fabric of laws, usages, and institutions which envelopes completely the life of the individual and intervenes everywhere between him and physical nature. To this all his industrial activities must conform. The material environment is no longer the common possession of the group. It has become private property and has passed under the control of individuals in whose interests the laws and customs of every community ancient and modern have been largely molded. This is a fact which all history attests. Wherever the few acquire a monopoly of political power it always tends to develop into a monopoly of the means and agents of production. Not content with making the physical environment their own exclusive property, the few have often gone farther and by reducing the many to slavery have established and legalized property in human beings themselves. But even when all men are nominally free and legalized coercion does not exist, the fact nevertheless remains that those who control the means of production in reality control the rest. As Mr. W.H. Mallock, the uncompromising opponent of democracy and staunch defender of aristocracy, puts it: "The larger part of the progressive activities of peace, and the arts and products of civilization, result from and imply the influence of kings and leaders in essentially the same sense as do the successes of primitive war, the only difference being that the kings are here more numerous, and though they do not wear any arms or uniforms, are incomparably more autocratic than the kings and czars who do."[199] "Slavery, feudalism, and capitalism," he tells us, "agree with one another in being systems under which the few"[200] control the actions of the many.

This feature of modern capitalism—the control of the many by the few—which constitutes its chief merit in the eyes of writers like Mr. Mallock is what all democratic thinkers consider its chief vice. Under such a system success or failure is no longer proof of natural fitness or unfitness. Where every advantage that wealth and influence afford is enjoyed by the few and denied to the many an essential condition of progress is lacking. Many of the ablest, best, and socially fittest are hopelessly handicapped by lack of opportunity, while their inferiors equipped with every artificial advantage easily defeat them in the competitive struggle.

This lack of a just distribution of opportunity under existing industrial arrangements, the defenders of the established social order persistently ignore. Taking no account of the unequal conditions under which the competitive struggle is carried on in human society, they would make success proof of fitness to survive and failure evidence of unfitness. This is treating the complex problem of social adjustment as if it were simply a question of mere animal struggle for existence. Writers of this class naturally accept the Malthusian doctrine of population, and ascribe misery and want to purely natural causes, viz., the pressure of population on the means of subsistence. Not only is this pressure with its attendant evils unavoidable, they tell us, but, regarded from the standpoint of the highest interests of the race it is desirable and beneficent in that it is the method of evolution—the means which nature makes use of to produce, through the continual elimination of the weak, a higher human type. To relieve this pressure through social arrangements would arrest by artificial contrivances the progress which the free play of natural forces tends to bring about. If progress is made only through the selection of the fit and the rejection of the unfit, it would follow that the keener the struggle for existence and the more rapid and relentless the elimination of the weak, the greater would be the progress made. This is exactly the contention of Kidd in his Social Evolution. He claims that if the pressure of population on the means of subsistence were arrested, and all individuals were allowed equally to propagate their kind, the human race would not only not progress, but actually retrograde.[201] If we accept this as true, it would follow that a high birth rate and a high death rate are necessary in order that the process of selection and rejection may go on. This is indeed a pleasant prospect for all except the fortunate few. But the question, of course, is not whether this is pleasant to contemplate or unpleasant, but whether it is true. Is the evolution of a higher human type the same kind of a process as that of a higher animal or vegetable type? Is progress achieved only through the preservation of the fit and the elimination of the unfit? If it could be shown that this is the case, then certainly the conditions under which this struggle to the death is carried on would be a matter of supreme importance. Are our social adjustments such as to facilitate, or at least not interfere with it? Do they make the question of success or failure, survival or elimination, depend upon individual fitness or unfitness? This, as we have seen, is not the case, though the partisans of the biological theory of human progress have constantly assumed it. Mr. Mallock takes even a more extreme position than most writers of this class, and actually says "that the social conditions of a time are the same for all, but that it is only exceptional men who can make exceptional use of them."[202] The unequal distribution of wealth he seeks to justify on the ground that "the ordinary man's talents as a producer ... have not appreciably increased in the course of two thousand years and have certainly not increased within the past three generations."[203]

"In the domain of modern industrial activity the many" ... he tells us, "produce only an insignificant portion of the total, ... and in the domain of intellectual and speculative progress the many produce or achieve nothing."[204] If we accept his premises, we must agree with his conclusion that democracy's indictment of our modern industrial system falls to the ground. This view of the matter is acceptable, of course, to those who are satisfied with present social arrangements. It furnishes a justification for the system under which they have prospered while others have failed. It relieves their conscience of any misgiving and soothes them with the assurance that only through the poverty and misery of the unfit can a higher civilization be evolved. This largely explains the popularity among the well-to-do classes of such books as Malthus' Principle of Population and Kidd's Social Evolution.

Such a treatment of the social problem, however, will not bear the test of analysis, since it assumes that the present distribution of opportunity is just. To ignore or treat as unimportant the influence of social arrangements upon the struggle for existence between individuals, as apologists for the existing social order are too much inclined to do, is like ignoring the modern battle-ship as a factor in the efficiency of the modern navy.

But while this biological theory of evolution has been made to serve the purpose of defending existing social arrangements, it is in reality no adequate explanation of human progress. Selection and rejection do not, as a matter of fact, play any important part in the progress of civilized communities. Here the struggle for existence has assumed the form of a struggle for domination. The vanquished are no longer eliminated as a result of the competitive struggle; for, as Mr. Spencer says, social institutions preserve the incapables.[205] Not only are the unsuccessful not eliminated but, as sociological students well know, they increase more rapidly than the successful few. If, then, we accept the biological theory of social evolution, we are forced to the conclusion that the human race, instead of advancing, is really retrograding. Seeing that this is not a satisfactory explanation of human progress, Mr. Mallock supplements it with a new factor which he describes as "the unintended results of the intentions of great men."[206] But, like all of these writers, he makes progress depend entirely on the biological struggle for existence or the industrial struggle for supremacy, not recognizing the all-important part which social ideals and conscious social choice play in human evolution.

There is, then, as we have seen, ample justification for the hostility to privilege which the democratic movement everywhere exhibits. In making equality of opportunity a feature of the new social order, the advocates of reform are proceeding in harmony with the teaching of modern science. Such changes must be brought about in the organization of industry, the laws of property, the scope and character of public and private activities, as will sweep away entirely the whole ancient system of special privileges, and by placing all individuals upon the same footing, make success the unfailing reward of merit. To accomplish this is to solve the monopoly problem. Some progress has been made in this direction, but it consists for the most part in discovering that such a problem exists. Just how posterity will deal with it, it is impossible to foresee; but of one thing we may be sure—this new conception of justice will exert a profound influence upon the legislation of the future.

The attention of the democratic movement has up to the present time been occupied almost exclusively with the question of a just distribution of opportunity; yet this is not the only problem which democracy will have to solve. Indeed, it is but the first step in a continuous process of conscious social readjustment. This fact many writers on social science have not fully grasped. There is still a tendency to regard society as a sort of divinely ordered mechanism, which, if properly started, will automatically work out the process of social evolution. * * * * From this point of view it is easy to conclude that "whatever is, is right." * * * * If we accept this belief in the beneficent and progressive character of all natural processes, the conclusion is irresistible that nature's methods should not be interfered with.

This is largely the point of view of the earlier English political economists, and it partly explains their belief in the policy of non-interference. The best and most comprehensive statement of this view of social progress is found in Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. In this work he attempted to show that legislative interference with industry is unnecessary. Therefore he advocated the repeal of all laws which interfered with or in any way restricted the liberty of the individual. He believed that the natural principle of competition would of itself effectually regulate industrial life. The desire of each individual to pursue his own interests made state interference, in his opinion, unnecessary. In the absence of legal restraints industrial matters would spontaneously regulate themselves. The varied economic activities of individuals in society would be adequately controlled and harmonized with the general interests of society, if statute or human law did not interfere with natural or divine law. Reliance on competition would ensure order, harmony and continuous progress in society, just as in the realm of matter the influence of gravitation has transformed by a long-continued development the original chaos into an orderly universe. Each individual acting in obedience to this law would be "led by an invisible hand to promote"[207] the well-being of society, even though he was conscious only of a selfish desire to further his own ends.

Such was the industrial philosophy of Adam Smith. It was in harmony with and the natural outcome of the movement which had already revolutionized religious and philosophic thought. In every department of human activity emphasis was being put on the individual. Liberty was the watchword of society—the panacea for all social ills. The Western world was breaking through the old system of restraints under which the individual had been fettered in religion, politics and business. A new conception of the state, its duties and its functions, had been evolved. Mere human law was being discredited. Philosophers, distrusting the coercive arrangements of society, were looking into the nature of man and the character of the environment for the principles of social organization and order. Belief in the curative power of legislation was being supplanted by a growing faith in the sufficiency of natural law.

The underlying motives for advocating the laissez faire policy were, however, mainly political and economic.[208] The ready acceptance of this doctrine must be attributed largely to the fact that it offered a plausible ground for opposing the burdensome restraints of the old system of class rule.

This is the origin of our modern doctrine of laissez faire which has so profoundly influenced our political and economic life. But as movements of this character are likely to do, it carried society too far in the opposite direction. This is recognized by that most eminent expounder of the let-alone theory of government, Mr. Herbert Spencer, who, in the third volume of his Principles of Sociology, admits that "there has been a change from excess of restriction to deficiency of restriction."[209] This means that in our accepted political and economic philosophy we have overvalued the organizing power of unregulated natural law, and have consequently undervalued the state as an agency for controlling and organizing industrial forces.

All new ideas have to be harmonized with much that is old. As at first accepted they are only partially true. A new philosophy requires time before its benefits can be fully realized. It must pass through a process of adaptation by which it is gradually modified, broadened and brought into orderly relations with life in general.

The theory of industrial freedom has during the nineteenth century been passing through just such a stage of development. The contention of Adam Smith and his followers that the mere desire for gain would of itself ensure adequate regulation of industry is certainly not true under existing conditions. Natural law is not, as he assumed, always beneficent in its operation. It is just as liable to produce harm as benefit unless it is regulated, controlled and directed by appropriate human agencies. It needs no argument to convince one that this is true so far as the forces of the physical world are concerned. Gravitation, steam and electricity contributed nothing to human progress until man discovered the means whereby they could be harnessed and controlled. Material civilization means nothing else but the development of control over and the consequent utilization of the materials and forces of the physical world. The important part played by mere human agencies is the only feature that distinguishes civilization from barbarism. Everything which in any way contributes to material progress augments the power of man to control, modify and adapt his environment.

And though it may not be so obvious, this general principle is just as true in the moral and spiritual world as in the physical. All progress, material and moral, consists in the due subordination of natural to human agencies. Laws, institutions and systems of government are in a sense artificial creations, and must be judged in relation to the ends which they have in view. They are good or bad according as they are well or poorly adapted to social needs. Civilization in its highest sense means much more than the mere mastery of mind over inanimate nature; it implies a more or less effective social control over individual conduct. Certain impulses, instincts and tendencies must be repressed; others must be encouraged, strengthened, and developed.

It is a mistake to suppose that the unrestrained play of mere natural forces ensures progress. Occasional advance is the outcome, but so also is frequent retrogression. There is no scientific basis for the belief in a natural order that everywhere and always makes for progress. Competition or the struggle for existence ensures at most merely the survival of the fittest; but survival of the fittest does not always mean survival of the best. Competition is nature's means of adapting life to its environment. If the environment is such as to give the more highly organized individuals the advantage, progress is the result. But if it is such as to place them at a disadvantage, retrogression, not progress, is the outcome. The higher types of character, no less than the higher organic forms, presuppose external conditions favorable to their development. Competition is merely the means through which conformity to these external conditions is enforced. It eliminates alike that which is better than the environment and that which is worse. It is indifferent to good or bad, to high or low. It simply picks out, preserves and perpetuates those types best suited to environing conditions. Both progress and retrogression are a process of adaptation, and their cause must be sought, not in the principle of competition itself, but in the general external conditions to which it enforces conformity. Success, then, is a matter of adaptation to the environment, or the power to use it for individual ends—not the power to improve and enrich it. The power to take from, is nature's sole test of fitness to live; but the power to enrich is a higher test, and one which society must enforce through appropriate legislation.

Laws, institutions and methods of trade which make it possible for the individual to take from more than he adds to the general resources of society tend inevitably toward general social deterioration. Competition is wholesome only when all our social arrangements are such as to discourage and repress all individual activities not in harmony with the general interests of society. This is the point of view from which all social and industrial questions must be studied. The problem which democracy has to solve is the problem of so organizing the environment as to assure progress through the success and survival of the best.

FOOTNOTES

[2] Lowell, Governments and Parties in Continental Europe, Vol. I, Ch. I; Lecky, Democracy and Liberty, Vol. I, p. 265.