Analysis of Society. II. Ideas. (1916)

From the November 1916 issue of the Socialist Standard

Link to Part I.

An examination of society which ignored the social consciousness, the system of ideas which reflect social relations, would be obviously incomplete. It is characteristic of Socialism as a theory to be comprehensive, to view the various aspects of life as a whole and to see their real unity even in their seeming diversity.

On the contrary, capitalist philosophers are almost invariably idealistic. With them mind is something essentially different from matter and antagonistic to it. The process of thought they assume to be independent of any other process. In this they merely reflect the antagonistic relations from which they spring. A confused economic existence necessarily gives rise to illusions. Class domination expresses itself in class conceit, which is the certain father of self-deception.

The working class, which suffers most from the prevailing social chaos, can afford to have no illusions concerning that chaos. Since men act more or less in accordance with their ideas and since actions in the mass have a direct influence on social relations, ideas are of practical importance in so far aa they retard or assist the process of social evolution. In fact, the human brain may be said to be the turning-point of this process, which commences with the inward pressure of external conditions and reaches its climax in the conscious adaptation of social institutions to those conditions.

Two factors enter into the formation of ideas, viz., the sensory impressions of the objects of the outer world and the desires and emotions aroused by these impressions. The mind mirrors the relations between its organic basis—the body —and its environment.

Like other mirrors, it may from time to time give distorted, out-of-focus reflections, may even show things as appearing the reverse of what they really are, but by the laws of its own nature it must eventually adapt itself to circumstance, i.e., reveal the truth, or perish ; and in this it shows itself to be of the same stuff as all other things organic. Its function is to provide a guide to its owner in the pursuit of his interests. All so-called inventions, “creative ideas,” etc. (apart from chance discoveries), which effect changes in external relations are the products of the re-action of desire on the accumulated fruits of experience.

From this it follows that the conflict of interests existing in society to-day breeds hostile ideas. The experience of one class is radically different from that of the other and so are its interests. Consequently while the notions of the dominant section become more and more conservative, the working class shows an increasing tendency to frame revolutionary conceptions, which must sooner or later lead to revolutionary actions. Hence the master class constantly endeavours to provide an artificial education for the workers which will divert their minds from direct observation and scientific induction, and induce them to accept as their own the views of their superiors.

In this process the preservation of traditional illusions phys a large part. Chief among these are religion, abstract morality, and the sophistries of party politics. In reserve the ruling class have the fundamental economic illusion, i.e., that the workers are in a state of pre-ordainad dependence upon capital and that their interests are therefore identical with those of the capitalists ; but they rightly consider economic discussions to be dangerous to their position and desire as long as possible to occupy their subjects’ minds with other topics.

Having already shown that the independent life which capital appears to possess is but the reflection of the living labour of which it is the product, and having thus exposed tha central fallacy of the capitalist mind, we can proceed to deal directly with the supplementary fallacies.

As a general rule illusions arise whenever human beings, confronted with problems which they have as yet no adequate means of solving, fall back on their imaginations for the solution, and accept its suggestions as facts. Thus primitive man, as he forsook his purely animal mode of life and launched out on the lengthy journey of industrial development, came into conflict with natural elements which had hitherto concerned his mind but little. The taming of stock and the cultivation of plants introduced him to strange phenomena in the way of floods, droughts, seasons, and other physical changes which affected his means of subsistence. He thus acquired an interest in and desire to master the natural elements which gave rise to them, and began to speculate on means to this end.

Lacking sufficient experimental data to frame general laws for his guidance, he fell back on the narrow circle of his ideas to explain the relations of the forces and objects around him. What these ideas lacked in breadth and profundity they made up in intensity. The savage notoriously fails to distinguish between realities and imaginations, actual sense-impressions and the mental reproductions of these. The memory of a dead man or a pre-existing state of affairs is as “real” to him as any objective perception of them. Consequently the most absurd and contradictory notions spring from his brain unquestioned by his reason, which can only develop after lengthy experience has exposed illusion. Primitive man’s memory of the dead merely means to him that the dead have two personalities, the body which perishes and the spirit. His recollection of things as they used to be indicates to him that affairs can be in two contradictory states at the same time. States of mind which under modern conditions we describe as hallucinations, lapse of memory, insanity, etc., characterised primitive society and harmonised with its impulsive moods and savage conditions.

From this mental atmosphere developed the fundamental tenets of religion, viz., the survival of the human personality after death and the existence of higher spirits which control the destinies of the world and mankind. At first these higher spirits were identified with natural elements, and to secure their favourable inclination toward his industrial efforts man adopted all possible arts of appeal, such as the sacrifice of the first-fruits, prayers, and sacred edifices. In those days there was no attempt to disguise the relations between religion and economic life, and as industry became more diverse in character, so there increased the number of divinities. In its development religion has followed the same course as the social conditions which it reflects. The division of primitive society into hostile tribes was religiously expressed in the distinctions between the “gods of our fathers” and “strange gods.” As society became more centralised the “strange gods” became converted into devils. The division of society into classes was accompanied by the development of a hierarchy in heaven. Paganism, with its wealth of fantasy, was a fitting emotional expression of the ancient world.

Just as feudalism was a kind of half-way house between chattel-slavery and wage-slavery, so it’s special form of religion, Catholicism, compromised the individualistic metaphysics of Christianity with Paganism. Lssser divinities became patron saints, and the harshness of monotheism was toned down for the popular mind by the deification of God’s carnal spouse.

Capitalism, however, is the sure foe of sentiment, chivalry, and the like. It brought with it sour Protestantism, determined to make this world more than ever a vale of tears for the masses. The numerous Catholic holy days interfered with business and so were abolished. “Freedom of contract” was accompanied by “free-thought,” competitive commercial anarchy by the disruption of the Church into sects. Along with the capitalist’s devotion to his individual accumulation of capital went his absorption with the salvation of his individual soul. In the production of commodities he was not concerned with their exterior qualities, which made them attractive to the flesh of mankind, but rather with their subtle, illusive essence, exchange-value, their spiritual community with money, the god of all commodities. So in religious matters he became a Puritan decrying the carnal and corporate expressions of belief and asserting his inner relation to his maker to be the sole claim on his conscience.

If he has since modified the exclusiveness of the form of his creed, that is only because of the pressing problem presented by the ever-increasing proletarian restlessness. For the workers heaven has long ago become the dullest of the phases of a remarkably dull existence. Their respect for the institutions which cause them so much trial and tribulation is if anything maintained mainly by fear of worse to come either here or hereafter.

The modern conception of God differs as widely from ancient notions as the chief problem of the present does from those of old. Science, stimulated by the needs of capitalist industry, has driven the Almighty from one department of nature after another. Geology and astronomy have exposed him for a clumsy impostor, and his own defenders and representatives grow more and more rationalistic in dealing with nature.

Mankind has, however, yet to solve the economic riddle. The cause of poverty and all other social evils existent has still to be discovered by the mass of society. For them the mystery which formerly veiled the natural elements has now surrounded the products of labour, which in the form of commodities and money have manifested a singular intractability. Ignorant of the secret of their nature, which is essentially social, men are unable to control them. Consequently economic laws assert blind sway and society remains under the illusion that it is still in the grip of a higher power which is destined to work its will irrespective of human wishes. Civilised man is as superstitious as the savage but in another fashion. He mistakes a product of his own life-process for an independent being. Those who have assimilated the truths of economic science know that this “higher power” is simply capital. God, to-day, is nothing but the ideal expression of bourgeois prejudices, the spiritual guardian of the capitalist interest. His sole function is to keep the workers in a state of perplexed reverence for things as they are and the powers that be.

Let us now examine morality. Since the dawn of history every ruling class has framed what is called a moral code, according to which the actions of its members and its subjects are classed as right or wrong, praiseworthy or otherwise. So long as society rested on a communistic basis the habitual activities of men were in harmony, at least within the bounds of any given community. The development of hostile classes introduced hostile actions, and in order to preserve the social structure on which its power rested, the ruling class had, perforce, to resort to coercion, of which more hereafter. Legal codes were framed, the infringements of which were punished by the State. These, however, were mainly directed against the slave class. Freemen were expected to conform to dominant interests voluntarily. The old social instinct, which characterised the tribesmen, survived in a class form and became transformed into a conception of duty. The free citizens of ancient States showed a civic patriotism incomparably greater than the much-vaunted article of modern times. It was corrupted by the division of interests among the freemen and the accumulation of private wealth.

With the disappearance of chattel-slavery, the subject classes became included in the moral bond. Lords and vassals alike came under the code of honour, commonly called chivalry, according to which they were bound to protect their subordinates or support their superiors, as the case might be.

Capitalism put an end to all reciprocal personal sentiments between master and servant. The cash relationship is now the central feature of human existence. The only obligations which capital itself recognises are legal ones. This, however, cuts both ways. As the class struggle becomes more violent coercion becomes more and more expensive, and our masters “feel deeply” the need of some magic love potion to soothe the ruffled feelings of their slaves. Hence they try to revive the sentimental illusions of the past—for the exclusive guidance of the working class. They talk of the “brotherhood of capital and labour,” and endeavour to prove “moral justifications” for exploitation.

In the ancient and medieval worlds the interests of men were shrouded in mystery. Hence they found the explanation of their actions (which were the products of instinct derived from prolonged habit) in a sense of right and wrong. The capitalist class is not so constituted. It is class-conscious to the roots of its hair, whatever its colour may be, and it knows its interest to be dependent upon force in the last resort. So long as the workers remain ignorant of their class interests religion and morality will be preserved, but with the growth of a revolutionary consciousness among them these “eternal truths” will vanish like mists before the sun. Economic emancipation will be accompanied by intellectual and emotional freedom.

Eric Boden

Analysis of Society. I. Interests. (1916)

From the October 1916 issue of the Socialist Standard

The analysis of society is the logical continuation of the analysis of wealth. The problems which the nature of modern wealth presents ramify into all social relations and are reflected in all phases of social thought. Economic science is valuable in that it illuminates the conditions on which society rests, and thus provides the key to an understanding of its history, but it is by no means complete in itself. Thought must be translated into action, and it is when we come to the practical as distinct from the theoretical solution of the problems in question that we become impressed with the conservatism of existing institutions and find it necessary to discover some instrument for their overthrow. Prior to this, however, we must examine the exact nature of these institutions and their relation to their economic basis.

To commence with the last first, in considering the nature of the units of wealth, i.e., commodities, we arrived at the conclusion that the relations between them resulted from their mutual relations to an outside element, the human race. Only in so far as they were, all alike, products of human labour, was any meaning discovered in their exchangeability and the process of their existence generally. So in examining the relations between the units of society, let us pursue a similar method. We see already that they mutually enter into relations with outside elements, the various forms of matter which they convert (or have converted) into articles of use.

This is no mere whim on their part, but a matter of necessity. Human life is a material process demanding the continual absorption of matter and the use of the objects of the material world on an ever-expanding and more varied scale. From the simple process of digestion to the complex operations of the brain all human functions are material and presuppose objects either for the supply of energy or as a means for its exercise. The most idealistic of philosophers have never yet shown us how to live without eating, and living includes thinking, as a matter of course.

Human beings, then, have this in common—they are part of the process of organic evolution and, as such, have definite interests in the world around them. In pursuing these interests they enter into relations with one another, and according to the nature of these interests and the circumstances of their satisfaction so the social relations between them take their form.

Simple association in pre-historic times was a heritage from pre-human ancestors, and appears to be a feature common to the existence of all the higher mammals. Its basis was the quest for food and the necessity for mutual protection and assistance, and so long as the hunting and fishing (or, as an alternative, arboreal) mode of living continued this primitive tribal harmony was preserved. By degrees, however, it was destroyed by the domestication of animals and the discovery and development of agriculture, which claimed more intense application of effort and paved the way to slavery and conquest. Class rule was established, and as the mode of production has developed so has one class given way to another whose methods of exploitation were more up-to-date.

To-day antagonism is the most obvious characteristic of material interests. One and all must purchase their wants, “be they of the stomach or of the fancy,” and must therefore be first possessed of money. This implies, again, that they have made a sale of some commodity or other. Thus all persons come to be owners of commodities and appear now at one pole, now at the other, of the commercial magnet. They are continually opposed to one another as buyers and sellers.

Our economic investigation showed these opponents to be divided into two classes—the sellers of labour-power and the venders of all other commodities. These latter are also the buyers of labour-power since the commodities in which they deal are only produced by the action of labour-power on raw materials. We also saw that their object in purchasing labour-power is to obtain the surplus over and above its own maintenance which it is capable of producing, and further that this process is only possible because the owners of labour-power are destitute of any other commodity or means of production and subsistence.

Now if, as we have seen, wealth in its various forms constitutes the basis of social relations, then the ownership of wealth determines the nature of these relations. Capital is the ownership of the social means of production and subsistence by a small class. It forms the pivot on which modern society turns, and consequently all social relations to-day take the form of an antagonism between two classes, of opposite interests, i.e , capitalists and wage-earners, In place of the primitive free association for the satisfaction of common interests we have the compulsory subjection of one set of human beings and their interests to another set.

This division of interests in society is reflected in the constitution of the individual. Thus the average wage-slave, in order to secure the satisfaction of his stomach, enters a factory, office, or other stronghold of robbery, to perform tasks against which, more often than not, his brain and senses revolt, albeit somewhat blindly.

The greater portion of his energy is spent in producing value for which he receives no return. So far as he is concerned it is wasted and his life curtailed by just so much. With his wages he purchases the necessities of his commodity-existence, which are on the average no more than will enable him to perform his task to the satisfaction of his purchaser. If the nature of his employment demands that he shall wear “respectable” clothes, then his screw is adapted to this condition ; if not, well, he considers himself lucky to get any clothes at all. If extreme muscular energy is required of him, then he can afford to indulge in quantities of food which would make the dyspeptic clerk green with other things than envy ; but his expenditure must be limited in other directions. Everywhere we see that the standard of “living” of the various sections of the working class is restricted to the level which will enable them to subsist “economically,” that is, as producers of value for the expansion and development of capital. They are not credited with possessing “higher interests,” with the exception of those termed “spiritual.” For reasons which will be explained later it pays the capitalist class to encourage these. Even his meagre economic wants are at the best inadequately satisfied. His food is adulterated, his clothes consist of shoddy, and his house is jerry-built.

For a scientific appreciation of nature the wage-worker has neither the energy, time, nor means to spare. For artistic enthusiasm in his labour and its products he has no inclination. The essential conditions of genuine science and art are freedom and the power to express oneself, which implies possession of the means for doing it. In the capitalist process of production the individual worker is a passive factor. It is not he who uses the instruments of labour but rather these instruments which use him on behalf of their owners. Incidentally he keeps his body moving after the style of an automaton, but only at the expense of his emotional and intellectual nature.

It is not, however, only the workers whose natures are rent asunder and who suffer loss of individuality. The capitalist himself, for all the luxury of his existence, is at the mercy of the system which creates him. His emancipation from the necessity to labour reduces him to an economically meaningless position. The means of production which he controls are social in character and do not provide him, their owner, with any outlet for his energies. His only function is to accumulate. To spend his wealth is beyond him, and if he ever tries, a la Carnegie, soon gives it up as a bad job. The best he can do is to indulge in insensate extravagance. His most exact science is a knowledge of his accounts. His highest art is the multifarious one of cheating and gambling in the commercial and financial sphere. Any other “science and art” he buys, as he buys labour-power, to augment or display his wealth. Showy advertisements of his goods, mechanical contrivances for reducing wages and increasing profits, pompous mansions with a retinue of flunkeys, public libraries crammed with unintelligent technicalities and the dull prejudices of the bourgeois mind—these are the fruits of his patronage. He calls himself a self-made man, but his words and actions proclaim him the creature of his money.

This is well shown by his never-ceasing fear of revolution. So much is the capitalist the embodiment of capital that he cannot conceive himself existing under any other social order than the present one. Change for him can only mean extinction, so he clings in morbid frenzy to every institution or idea which supports things as they are.

If the wage-earner has yet to learn to live and be a man the capitalist, on the other hand, has got beyond that stage. His day is passing. Rotten product of a rotten system, he has lost the possibility of manhood, and dissolution alone awaits him and his class.

To the Socialist worker revolution is the breath of hope which inspires him to learn and endure until his class is ready for the task ; and his spare time and energy are readily given to assist his fellows to learn likewise. In order to satisfy their mutual interests they must dispossess the capitalist class of the ownership of the social means of subsistence and must convert these into the common property of society.

Present-day society is not the first to be characterised by division into classes with opposing interests any more than capital is the first form of private property. Other social systems based on other property relations have preceded it.

Primitive society was, as already hinted, communistic on a narrow scale. The unit of tribal organisation was the gens or clan, a group of kinsfolk which controlled economic affairs in the mutual interests of its members. Slavery and conquest, which were the outcome of agricultural development, put an end to this relation of equality. Slaves were prisoners of war or tribesmen who had fallen under economic obligations to their fellows. As private property increased in magnitude and importance, so the originally equal tribesmen became divided into rich and poor. There were, therefore, in the first civilised society at least three distinct classes, viz., slave-owners, slaves, and freemen who did not possess slaves.

The process of conquest, with its motive of territorial acquisition, broke up the independence of the local tribal communities and laid the foundations of Feudalism. The essential feature of this system was the military tenure of land. Freemen became divided into lords and vassals ; slaves were converted into agricultural serfs or chartered freemen privileged to carry on handicrafts. Here we have a regular hierarchy of classes whose rival interests made the history of the Middle Ages.

The collapse of Feudalism and its supersession by the existing order have been briefly described in a previous article. Sufficient has been said to enable us to contrast Capitalism with previous social orders. In the societies just described class divisions were numerous and complex, whereas to-day we are faced with one simple line of demarcation, i.e., the possession of capital. To-day there are but two really distinct classes.

When the feudal aristocrats supplanted the local patricians, when again, later on, the capitalists overthrew them in turn, they simply substituted one form of class rule for another. Beneath the revolutionary class in each instance there existed the workers whose exploitation has formed the basis of all civilised societies.

When the workers overthrow their present masters they will end the last of the ruling, exploiting classes. By abolishing private property in the means of life they will eliminate the cause of hostile interests and class rule. In emancipating themselves they will free and unite humanity.

Their task, however, demands knowledge. At present their minds still hold the numbing superstitions with which their masters feed them. To criticise the mentality of capitalism is, therefore, our next concern.

Eric Boden