g>tate QJnUcge of Agriculture ^t diotmll Inittetaity Cornell University Library HM 291.J6 The social philosophy of instinct, 3 1924 013 871 128 Cornell University Library The original of tliis bool< is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 92401 3871 1 28 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT BY CHARLES CONANT JOSEY, Ph.D. ASSISTANT 7K0FESS0K OF PSTCBOLOGT, DAKTUOUTH COUEGE CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON Copyright 1922, bt CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS Printed in the (Jnited States of America A PREFACE In submitting this essay on The Social Philosophy of Instinct to the public, I am full of hope that it may prove helpful to classes in Ethics, Sociology, and Psychology; for all of these are interested in one way or another in the relation of original nature to the values, motives, and impulses of the adult. Above all, I am hopeful that this essay may prove illuminat- ing to our social theorists, who talk so confidently about the expression, thwarting, and repression of original nature by our customs and institutions. If it serves to introduce a more critical attitude regard- ing the dogmatic claims of evolutionists, which in many cases are suppl3dng the bases of the above sciences, it will have served admirably its purpose. I wish to take this opportunity to thank my teachers at Columbia University for the aid they have given me in making this study. Especially do I feel under obligation to Professors Woodworth, Woodbridge, and Ogbum. Chakles Conant Josey. Hanover, N. H. CONTENTS CHAPTE2 PAOX I. Inxrodtjction 3 II. HisiofiicAi, Orientation 25 III. Instinct as a Sanction 78 IV. Instinct and CirLTrrRE 128 V. Instinct in Psychology . , 178 VI. Conclusion 240 Index 269 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION Conceptions of human nature and behavior have a profound influence on Social Philosophy. When the behavior of man is regarded as determined largely by the play of mechanical and impersonal forces Social Philosophy is quite different from what it is when the behavior of man is regarded as determined by the in- fluence of ancestral spirits or by innate impulses long- ing for expression. Views regarding the source of human values also exert a profound influence on Social Philosophy. When the source of values is regarded as external to the individual, that is, when values are regarded as sentiments impressed on the individual by his group and culture, Social Philosophy is quite dif- ferent from what it is when the source of values is re- garded as internal. To an even greater extent do conceptions regarding the value of the individual in- fluence Social Philosophy. For, obviously, the Social Philosophy that rests on the assumption that the in- dividual is of value principally as a means to help achieve the ends of some transcendental power, say that of the State, is quite different from the Social Philosophy committed to the view that the State is of value only as a means to help realize the instinctive ends of the individual. 3 4 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT This is as it should be. It is good that conceptions of human nature are regarded as determining what is good for man. If human nature is not to determine what is good for man, what is? The relation pointed out between views of human nature and Social Phi- losophy is what we should wish. Writers, then, who seek to build their Social Philosophy on their con- ception of human nature follow the right method and are not to be criticised for this. Yet the writings of many of our Social Philosophers seem to indicate that they should be criticised for not exercising due care and criticism in reaching their conclusions re- garding human nature. The writers to whom I refer are found for the most part among the group which may be called the biological sociologists. Under the influence of evolutionary thought and the accompanying emphasis placed on genetics, many writers in this group have reached very definite con- ceptions regarding human nature and the motives which determine human behavior. In many circles it is assumed that, as a result of the evolution of the species, we possess certain inherited or innate forces in virtue of which we act and which largely determine how we act. Our behavior, according to this view, is determined — not by the give-and-take relations exist- ing between us and our environment — but by forces which we inherit as a result of the give-and-take re- lations our ancestors sustained to their environment. Conceptions of this nature have deeply colored the INTRODUCTION 6 Social PhUosophy of to-day. Indeed, one who reads current discussions of social problems cannot fail to be impressed with the significance that is attached to supposedly innate determinants of human behavior. It is hoped that by various manipulations of these forces, or instincts — that is, by sublimation, repression, suppression, thwarting, expression, and so forth — the good and evil of our society will be explained. It is also hoped that through a knowledge of these innate characters we shall be able to give a psychological interpretation of our moral ideas and sentiments, of our institutions and customs, and of culture in gen- eral. In spite of the prevalence of these tendencies and hopes, the assumptions on which they are based seem in many cases to have been accepted uncritically. It is too readily assumed that our values, desires, im- pulses, and emotions are determined by forces which we inherit as a result of the behavior or environmental conditions of our ancestors.* This conception of force in terms of which phe- nomena can be explained has disappeared from the physical sciences. That it should stiU persist in the * This assumption does not rest necessarily on the practically aban' doned theory of the inheritance of acquired characters. It ma> be based as well on the theory that certain spontaneous variations in the germ are preserved by the selective influence of the environment. The re- sult is the same. In both cases the individual is regarded as coming into this life with a mass of preformed impulses, emotions, and instincts that arose or were selected as a result of the relations the species sus- tained to its environment. These impulses are regarded as largely de- termining present behavior. 6 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT biological and social sciences is not hard to under- stand. It is due to a great extent to the origin of our conception of jorce. Our notion of jorce is deeply rooted in overcoming obstacles. At such moments we feel ourselves animated by a great /orce, which is put- ting forth every effort to accomplish the desired end. Likewise in our moments of inspiration and enthusiasm we feel ourselves lifted up and ennobled by a power or ^orce which holds us in its grasp. It is not unnatural that a notion thus acquired should be held fast as an explanation of the very experiences in which it was discovered. It is because we experience forces di- rectly or immediately in our behavior that we wish or hope to interpret our behavior in terms of a jorce. It is for this reason that this old notion of force, though abandoned in physics, continues to play an important part in our explanation of social and organic behavior. The explanation of the abandonment of this use of jorce in the physical sciences wiU make clear another reason for its persistence in the biological sciences. It is not hard to understand why it should have been abandoned in the physical sciences; for there we can calculate forces exactly and balance one against the other. As soon as we are able to do this, we begin to treat them as functions of the situations in which they appear, rather than as jorces independent of the situa- tion and in terms of which the situation can be ex- plained. Forces thus come to be regarded as results of the situation, and hence cannot be used to account INTRODUCTION 7 for the situation or activity in which they appear. This is not so easily done in the biological sciences. There the data are much more complex, and we find greater difficulty in viewing the forces as products of the situation in which they appear. This difficulty, however, should not be allowed to mislead us. An illustration drawn from one of the purely physical sciences will make clear how we should regard aU forces. For example, let us take the activity that is involved in the precipitation of a chemical from a solution. In an activity of this sort we feel no need of a "crystalline force" to bring about the precipita- tion or crystallization. Yet in this activity force is beyond doubt involved. But the force, like the ac- tivity, is quite naturally regarded as a function of the situation in which it appears, and no one thinks that it is to be regarded as a sort of agency in virtue of which the activity takes place. The phenomenon of crystallization or precipitation is consequent upon variations in the temperature of the solution, or upon some other change in the total situation. Hence, there is no need of & force to account for the activity. Given certain conditions, the chemical crystallizes, and any force that may be involved is merely an aspect of the phenomenon rather than an entity or power mani- festing itself in the process of crystallization. This seems very obvious when we are dealing with purely physical processes. Yet we find it difficult to view the forces manifested in the behavior of organ- 8 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT isms in the same way. This is due in part to the com- plexity of the behavior. It is also due in part to the fact that we seem to feel a necessity of accounting for the fact that organisms not only act as they do but that they act at all. Activity itself seems to require in the opinion of some an explanation. To view ac- tivity as consequent upon antecedent conditions and upon the total situation* is not regarded as satisfac- tory by many. Such explanations are held to be in- adequate, since they do not tell us in virtue of what force the organism acts. This inadequacy is met by the simple device of positing in the organism various forces corresponding to the behavior observed. Thus the in- adequacy is met, and the needs felt for a real explana- tion are satisfied. Formerly physicists, in answer to similar meta- physical needs, were led to posit in a falling stone a force which impelled it to seek its proper place. Yet obviously the force manifested in the fall of the stone is a product of the situation, and cannot be used to account for the phenomenon. That is to say, given a stone placed in a certain position, it will fall, and with its fall force will be generated. It does not fall, how- ever, because of the force. Rather there is force be- cause it faUs. In the same way the forces experienced in the be- * Total situation as here used includes the structure, physiological condition, and experience of the organism, as well as the stimuli which affect the organism. Situation will be used frequently to include all these determiners of behavior. INTRODUCTION 9 havior of organisms should be regarded as due to the situations in which they appear. It must be recog- nized that many of our experiences seem to involve forces that exist independently of the situation in which they are felt. This, however, should not mislead us. For the apparent independence of these forces is due largely to our inability to correlate them sufficiently exactly with the known and variable elements in the situation, and to the fact that the same force or in- stinct or emotion may be aroused by different stimuli. Yet we may rest assured that the forces experienced in our behavior are no less determined by the varia- tions that are constantly taking place in the relations that we sustain to our environment than the forces that are brought into existence by purely physical cojtiditions. Given an organism with a certain struc- ture, physiological condition, and mass of experience in a certain environment, there will be generated out of this situation forces which are as strictly determined as any force generated in the physical world. Out- side of such situations there are no forces affecting the organism and impelling it to various activities or de- sires. Our metaphysical prepossessions make it difficult for us to regard behavior in this way. The questions inevitably arise: In virtue of what agency or force does the organism act? Why does the organism act in this way rather than in some other? It is because we are not satisfied to regard the forces experienced 10 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT in behavior as arising here and now in the situations in which they function and to view activity as con- sequent upon antecedent conditions and activities that these questions arise. It is for this reason that we posit in the organism ready-made forces called in- stincts. Thus we learn not only why organisms act. but also why they act as they do ! This need is not felt in accounting for perception and sensation. When an organism in a certain physi- ological condition is placed in a certain environment it perceives or is sensitive. No necessity is felt of ac- counting for this as the result of a force of perception or sensation. It is regarded as sufficient to account for this as the result of the relation of the organism to its environment. This is true no matter what the nature of the organism may be. In some the percep- tion is different from what it is in others. But, what- ever the nature of the perception may be, we feel no necessity of accounting for it as the result of a force of perception. Yet, if the perception or sensation should have an emotional character or be accompanied by an impulse, a necessity is felt of accounting for these latter as the results of certain forces or instincts within the organism. Thus, for example, if a man perceives that he has been insulted, there is felt no need of a force of per- ception. But if, as a result of this, he should become angry and attack the person offering the insult, there is felt a need of accounting for this as the result of a INTRODUCTION 11 force. This need is satisfied by the instinct of pug- nacity. Likewise, if he sees a boy being abused, and he again becomes angry and attacks the person abus- ing the boy, the same explanations are given. This difference between our explanations of per- ception and our explanations of emotions and im- pulses may be regarded as due to the fact that our perceptions are definitely correlated with certain organs, whereas our emotions and impulses are not. Thus we see because we have eyes; hear because we have ears, etc. No corresponding organs can be as- signed to our emotions and impulses. Hence arises the need of something analogous to the organs of per- ception to account for our emotions and impulses. If, however, the absence of sense-organs gives rise to the necessity of positing in the organism forces to account for mental states which are not definitely correlated with particular organs, vision and audition must likewise be regarded as due to sach. forces ; for in simple organisms there are no sense-organs, yet they are sensitive to both light and noises. Percep- tion in such organisms, therefore, must be due to a corresponding instinct of perception. But if a force is required to account for perception in simple organ- isms, a force is also required in organisms no matter how great the complexity; for complexity does not do away with the necessity of force. It may diminish the amount required, or use more efficiently the force placed at its disposition, but it cannot operate with- out it. 12 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT In fact, this is the position of those who emphasize the importance of instincts. Structure is not a suf- ficient explanation of the organism's behavior. With- out the driving power of an instinct, they tell us, the structure would lie motionless and inert. Though one does not stress the necessity of a force of visual percep- tion, in virtue of which the eye sees, one does stress the necessity of a force in virtue of which the organism ex- periences strong emotions and impulses. Many seem to think it is because there are pent up in the organism various forces that the organism performs many of its characteristic activities. A certain degree of reality is attached to ^tse forces, because, as illustrated above, the same emotion may be aroused by many stimuli. We are no more able to correlate the emotion with a definite class of stimuli than we are to correlate it with a definite organ. As a result, the emotions and impulses seem to have an independence which invites us to account for activi- ties as fiiei? expressions. This is not altogether in error. The behavior of the insulted man, as well as his behavior on observing the abused boy, would prob- ably have been quite different had not the emotion of anger and impulse to fight been aroused. This says little more, however, than that the behavior would not have been the same had it been different. The fact that the emotion was aroused by different situations should not be regarded as an indication that the emotion has an existence of an independent nature any more INTRODUCTION 13 than the fact that the precipitation of a chemical may be produced by lowering the temperature of the solu- tion or by evaporating part of it should cause us to re- gard the precipitation as due to a Jorce existing inde- pendently of the situation. In both cases the behavior is determined by the total situation. Just as precipi- tation occurs under certain conditions, so the emo- tions which are experienced come into existence under certain conditions. If an emotion should arise under a thousand different conditions, it would, none the less in each case, be an aspect of the situation without an independent existence of its own. It is because we neglect to see that emotions and impulses are generated in the situations in which they appear that we are confronted with diflSculties re- garding their origin. It is because they are assigned an existence of their own that it becomes necessary to explain how they came into existence. Men at all levels of culture have felt this necessity. The primi- tive man, the theologian, and the modern biologists and psychologists have each advanced numerous theo- ries to account for the existence of the various /orces in virtue of which organisms are able to act and which cause them to act as they do. As may be supposed, these theories have funda- mental differences. In many respects, however, they are quite similar. A mere statement of the theories will make clear the similarity. Any act which the primitive man cannot account for in terms of the usual 14 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT experiences of the individual is regarded by him as due to an impression or urge from an ancestor or some other hidden force. Similarly, any act which the theologian cannot explain is regarded by him as due to an impression from God. The evolutionist goes a step further. He explains not only the unusual acts but the usual also as due to impulses or tendencies that have been impressed on us by the species. No one need deny that there are fundamental dif- ferences between these views. There is, however, a fundamental similarity, which may be briefly stated: they agree that the origin or source of our impulses or motivating forces lies outside of the situation in which they appear, and that the impulse or force is of such a nature that it can be regarded as the impul- sive force back of the behavior. The conception of such determiners of behavior, whether regarded as coming from an ancestral spirit, or from Deity, or from the species, exerts a profound influence on social practices and theories. This is not hard to understand. Behavior that is due to impres- sions from a powerful ancestor or from God must be given a right of way over all other considerations, and one need but urge that he is acting in accordance with such an impression to win universal approbation. For who dares to question the advisability of an act that is so determined ! If the good in such a course is not apparent, so much the worse for our power of percep- tion and understanding. The good is there. We need only to discover it. INTRODUCTION 16 The uifluence of instinct as used by many is as pro- found. Instinct by many is clothed with the hidden goods that formerly adhered to transcendental pur- poses. According to this view, it is held that the in- dividual inherits a mass of psychic tendencies which have proved their fitness and value as guides to be- havior by their faithful service to the species. The good that inheres in their expression may not be ap- parent to us, but it is there. Otherwise the race could not have survived. If we do not see the good, the fault is ours. Its existence is guaranteed by the evolutionary process itself. We need only to discover it. The discovery of the good is in many cases difficult. It is generally held, however, that the good lies in the natural functioning of the instinct. Accordingly, the natural functioning is greatly emphasized. But, in spite of this emphasis, and of the ambiguity of the term natural, no one takes the trouble to define clearly its meaning. Sometimes it seems to be identified with the desires and impulses which follow most closely bodily structure and needs. At other times it seems to be identified with the primitive. At still other times it seems to be identified with the fundamental. One can readily understand that the exalting in this way of such an ambiguous and indefinite principle of activity should provide the ready means of justi- fying the most egoistic and selfish desires. For desires of an egoistic nature answer best the various descrip- tions of the natural. Such desires are closely related to bodily needs. They are primitive and they are 16 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT fundamental. On the other hand, the desires that are born of social contacts become highly unnatural. These do not follow so closely the lines laid down by physiological needs. They are not necessarily primi- tive, nor are they fundamental. Hence, the extolling of the instinctive and the emphasis placed on the nat- ural expression of instinct tend to justify one in satis- fying or indulging every egoistic whim and to contemn the demands of society as repressive and as designed to crush the free and unimpeded expression of the best that the race has been able to evolve. The interpretation of behavior and development in terms of iimate forces brings about the same result in another way. Since behavior is due to independent forces existing within the organism irrespective of its experience, there is the tendency to look upon develop- ment and behavior as the mere unfolding of innate characters. The adult becomes simply an enlarged edition of the embryo. All that is required for de- velopment is that the innate characters be given a free hand to unfold themselves naturally. The most that society can do is to give the individual full free- dom to express the forces within him. The best so- ciety is the one that interferes least in this process. Society, instead of being regarded as the source of values, sentiments, emotions, and impulses, is opposed to the individual as a great repressive force that pre- vents the individual from realizing his fullest possible development. INTRODUCTION 17 To say that the present unrest, discontent, and as- sertion of egoism are the results of our conceptions regarding the nature of the individual and society would be an exaggeration. These phenomena are too general to be attributed to the Social Philosophy of Western Civilization. The quieting effect of financial and industrial depression indicates that the causes are largely economic. Industrial progress and eco- nomic well-being make for individualism. Men must be secured to take care of the surplus; with the in- crease in wealth consumers must also be found. In this way the dependence of man upon man is largely destroyed, and each feels that he is a self-sufficient individual. This development has been made possible largely by our scientific progress. But scientific progress has in another way tended to destroy the bases of com- munal solidarity. A comparison of the fears of primi- tive man with those of the modern will make this clear. Reared in a country of plenty, free from the super- stitious fears that formerly made life a burden, it is hard for us to realize the forebodings and fears that made life for the primitive man a terrible experience. Surrounded, as he was, on every hand with real dangers and subjected to the uncertainties of a precarious ex- istence, he added to these dangers a world of hostile spirits — perhaps a reflection of the real dangers that he had to encounter, but unlike most reflections many times more terrible. On every side were ghosts, gob- 18 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT lins, and demons of all kinds. At their mercy the in- dividual felt himself, and usually they were hostile. How else could one regard them when his miserable ex- istence was interpreted as a result of their whims !* By proper ceremonies and rites, however, it was possible to persuade them not to injure the group, and at times to induce them to favor the group in a small way. As a result of these hopes and fears the community was knit together in vast co-operative enterprises to win the favor of the spirits or to free the settlement from them. In such ceremonies all were compelled to take part. Neither the community nor Fate would overlook absence. Similar rites have been practised by all European peoples, and can be found in certain isolated districts of France to this day.f The rites as practised by our forebears were not only for protection against magic. They served to insure bountiful crops. These super- stitions have been banished by science, but science, in relieving us of these fears and in teaching us better methods of insuring bountiful harvests, has removed one of the pillars of communal solidarity. When the community is gathered to perform the one essential ceremony in which all must take part, there is en- gendered in each individual a feeling of at-oneness and dependence on the group, and, in addition, he experi- ences a certain exaltation and enthusiasm born of the * Cf. Frazer, Golden Bough, vol. lU, ad edition, 39. t Frazer, ibid., 323. Based on report in Athenaum, 1869. INTRODUCTION 19 common purpose and of the strength of a united com- munity back of the enterprise. Science has removed these bonds of social depen- dence. We no longer entertain the fears which formed their basis. Our fears are quite different. The primi- tive man feared positive evils. We fear that we may miss our share of the good. These fears have opposite effects. The one engenders a feeling of dependence and co-operation; the other, a spirit of suspicion and hate. The fear of evils brings the group together. The fear of missing goods arrays each man against his fellows in the determined assertion of his "rights." Thus many of the antisocial tendencies manifested in our society may well be regarded as liabilities of our industrial and scientific progress. While economic and scientific progress has made for the assertion of individualism, psychological de- velopment has in many cases, through its interpreta- tions of behavior, tended to a denial of individual re- sponsibility. If one's actions are the result of heredity or of environmental conditions, for what should one blame himself ? The individual becomes a mere puppet of forces beyond his control. Who can blame him for his desires, or for acting in accordance with them? At the worst he is only their victim. Why should he repress them? In this way the denial of individual responsibility brings about antisocial tendencies. Strange as it may seem, such opposites as the assertion of individuality 20 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT and the denial of individuality bring about the same development. On the one hand, there is the stirring up of strife and unrest as a result of the assertion of the "rights" of the individual. On the other haad, the duties of the individual to the group are denied through the denial of individual responsibility. Thus, at the same time that we erect the deep-seated desires and impulses of the individual into "rights" that are not to be questioned, we tend to destroy the feeling of responsibility which should go with deep feelings of personality by telling him that he is not respon- sible for his desires and impulses or for acting in ac- cordance with them. In this way we teach the in- dividual that his deep-seated desires are his best guides to conduct, and when he acts in a way regarded as undesirable we tend to make excuses for his behavior by attributing his antisocial acts to a corrupting en- vironment. Thus psychological theories of almost opposite as- simiptions combine with economic and scientific prog- ress to lead us in the narrow assertion of egoism and individualism that is proving so disruptive to our ex- isting social order. When I say, therefore, that the conception of in- stincts as forces entitled to natural expression is exert- ing a powerful influence in bringing about the present chaotic conditions in society and in Social Philosophy, I am not unmindful of many other factors that are helping to brmg about the same result. In fact, it INTRODUCTION 21 should be recognized that the r61e of instinct in this development is of a secondary nature. Its chief r61e is to lend justification to antisocial tendencies brought about by other factors by exalting these into princi- ples of conduct. It is true there is considerable disagreement among social writers regarding the value of instincts for moral and ethical guidance. Indeed, another element of confusion is introduced by this lack of agreement. By some it is held that instincts are indefinite, and that they, therefore, fail to furnish us with ethical principles. By others it is insisted that instincts are the ineradicable products of long ages spent in sav- agery. They are, therefore, regarded as a great liabil- ity to the moral life, which makes impossible the realization of "The Good Society." By others it is insisted with as great emphasis that the instincts are guides which have proved their worth in the long evo- lutionary struggle, and that we need but follow their guidance to achieve the truly moral and good. Ac- cordingly, the last group holds that the evils of society are due largely to the repressions that it practises. To eliminate these evils, they tell us, we need but allow our instincts to function naturally. It might seem that some doubt should be enter- tained regarding the reality oi forces about which there is such disagreement. This is the view of the present essay. It is necessary, however, that an explanation of the almost universal recognition of these forces be 22 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT given; for it is natural to suppose that such a wide- spread conception must have at least a basis in reality. This basis is not hard to discover. The wonderfully adaptive behavior of organisms apart from any knowl- edge of the end that is being reached requires an ex- planation. The sublimity of man's moral ideas, his clear vision of right and wrong, the nobility of his im- pulses, likewise require an explanation. What better explanation can be advanced than to regard them as due to instincts, or the accumulated wisdom of the species ? In brief, what other explanation can be given in a world of cause and effect? Thus, the old superstitions founded on belief in metempsychosis and theological speculations give place to "scientific" explanations based on the as- sumption of ancestral memories, or of wisdom and habits acquired by the species. To discuss the transition from superstition to "science" is the first task of this treatise. The con- necting link is the feeling that certain activities can- not be adequately accounted for in terms of the in- dividual's experience and capacities. To supplement explanations in these terms, various conceptions are invoked. However different these conceptions may be, all of them have this in common: instead of solv- ing the problems connected with behavior, they trans- fer them to another realm. In one case the problems are transferred to a psychology of ancestral ghosts or spirits; in another, they are transferred to the realm INTRODUCTION 23 of Divine psychology; and in another, they are trans- ferred to the psychology of the species. Yet in no case have we reason to suppose that the new fields are more available for research than the field presented by the individual acting here and now in our very presence. The study of the similarities found in the belief in metempsychosis and in instinct will serve also to show the sources of the powerful sanction of instinct. It is on account of this sanction that both conservatives and radicals seek to win the support of instinct for their social views. To discuss the significance of in- stinct for ethical and social guidance will be the task of the second chapter. The criticism of the use of instinct as a sanction in the second chapter will be of a general nature. In the third and fourth chapters I shall examine the very explicit psychological assumptions on which this sanc- tion rests. This examination, I hope, will make ap- parent that interpretations of behavior in terms of forces are not only unnecessary and unilluminating, but actually prevent a factual study of behavior on ac- count of the mass of psychological impedimenta, whose origin furnishes such a fruitful cause for controversy. Behavior, I shall point out, should be interpreted not in terms oi forces but in terms of the relations the or- ganism sustains to its environment. By so doing one gets close to the facts which should enable him to correlate the activities of an organism with the variable 24 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT factors which determine that the organism shall act as it does rather than in some other way. At the same time, by so viewing behavior one is spared all the dif- ficulties involved in the origin of instinct, and the many sublimations and repressions which instincts are sup- posed to undergo in making clear the behavior of the organism. The concluding chapter will be devoted to a brief statement of the point of view of the essay and to pointing out certain differences which should follow in social practices when the behavior of the individual is interpreted in terms of the give-and-take relations he sustains to his environment, rather than in terms of hidden forces that are released by a multitude of stimuli add that express themselves in a variety of responses. CHAPTER II HISTORICAL ORIENTATION According to Durkheim the reality on which all be- liefs in magic and religion are based is the experience of being profoundly influenced by a power external to ourselves felt to be more powerful and abiding than the powers that we feel to be strictly our own. As he points out, it is necessary for us to have an experience of this sort before we can wish to account for it. Given an experience of this power, which Durkheim holds comes inevitably as a result of man's group relations, numerous explanations of its nature and origin are possible. Obviously a great many mistakes are made in the attempt to account for the source of the power or force. But there can be no mistake regarding its reality; for it is true that man, as a gregarious animal, is deeply sensitive to the feelings of the group in which he lives. It is from the group that many of his noble and al- truistic impulses, as well as much of his power and enthusiasm, come. It is the group that compels him to act in the manner approved and cherished by the group, and when he so acts he has a feeling of increased vitality. As Durkheim says: "Social action does not confine itself to demanding 25 26 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT sacrifices, privations, and efforts from us. For the collective force is not entirely outside of us; it does not act upon us wholly from without; but rather, since society cannot exist except in and through in- dividual consciousness, this force must also penetrate us and organize itself within us; it thus becomes an integral part of our being and by that very fact this is elevated and magnified." "For society, this unique force of all that is sacred, does not limit itself to mov- ing us from without and affecting us for the moment. It establishes itself within us in a durable manner. It arouses within us a whole world of ideas and senti- ments which express it but which, at the same time, form an integral and permanent part of ourselves." * There should be no doubt of the existence of the force we wish to account for. The power of the group to fill the individual with enthusiasm, to inspire him, to ennoble and exalt him is real. Real also is its power to crush him, to make him feel his unworthiness and insignificance, and to make him acquiesce in his own punishment and even annihilation. This great power the primitive man interprets in terms of influences from his ancestors, or in terms of a vague impersonal force commonly called mana. It is true that he is wrong in his interpretations. But his mistakes are regarding the source of the power only. He makes no mistake in recognizing the exist- ence of this power. The experience of this power is * Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, 209, 262. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 27 genuine. No error regarding its source can invalidate it. We are deeply affected by powers that cannot be regarded as strictly our own. It is for this reason that many of our enthusiasms and inspirations seem due to external forces that have taken their abode within us. One of the hypotheses most widely held among primitive men to account for the existence of these powerful influences holds that the urges or impres- sions come from a disembodied ancestor. For, accord- ing to primitive conceptions, departed ancestors do not lose all interest in the living. On the contrary, from time to time they return and take their abode in the body of the living in order to befriend or injure him. It is easy to understand that explanations of be- havior in terms of interest of ancestors provide a ready- made explanation for whatever may occur. Should the individual do anything unusual or supernatural, it is because an ancestor has taken his abode in him and is directing and inspiring him to perform his won- derful acts. Or, if the behavior is not of this sort, the ancestor may be offended and is punishing the in- dividual for displeasing him. Thus one has an easy explanation for misfortune, happiness, success, failure, sickness, madness, and all strong urgings and impulses that seem in any way unusual. As a result of thus ascribing various phenomena to the souls of the dead, true causes are overlooked, and men find themselves 28 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT dependent on the hidden entities, which they them- selves create. Primitive peoples are not the only ones who have used theories of preexistence to account for the be- havior of the living. The Greeks, likewise, believed that each soul went through a plurality of existences. It was no idle fancy of theirs, for since their conception of causality committed them to the view that Like produces Like, they thought that only soul could give rise to soul. Hence, each birth meant the reincarna- tion of a disembodied spirit. It is this belief that gives significance to the feast of Anthesteria, at which time the departed souls were entertained and purified pre- paratory to taking again their abode in the realm of the living. It is this that also gives significance to the Athenian's prayers, on marrying, to his ancestors' ghosts. The hope of children depended on the action of departed souls. On departed souls, or ghosts, the reproductive processes depended, and in addition the character of the offspring depended largely on that of the ghost and on the rites that were supposed to free and purify it from contamination with the underworld or realm of the dead. So much has been written about the beauty of Greek life that we do not attach sufficient importance to the praise Lucretius showered upon Epicurus for dis- pelling the mass of superstitious fears that made the life of his age a terrible experience. So little seriously do we take the superstitions of the Greeks that when HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 29 Plato uses them we like to think that he used them simply as illustrations to emphasize his teachings. So we pass them by with the excuse or apology that they furnished him with means to persuade the masses to accept his ethical teachings, that they helped him to banish and explain difficult problems, or that they rounded out in perfect fulness his ethical ideals. Yet we should remember that the masses did not need such legends or myths. The popularity of the Orphic Cult and the grossness of niany of its rites attest suf- ficiently well to this fact. Nor was Plato directing his teachings to the masses. His teachings were for the intelligentsia of his day, and his hesitancy in using the myths shows how he hated and feared their ridi- cule. The myths of Plato form an integral part of his teach- ings. They cannot be banished lightly. It is very probable that he accepted them, or something similar to them, as the truth. Thus the difficulty of account- ing for learning drives him to the theory of reminis- cence, or to regard learning as the recollection of ex- periences undergone in a previous incarnation. His difficulties seem real, and his explanation seems sin- cere. Because we hold them lightly we should not presume that Plato did.* The same is true of his explanation of the joy we experience at beholding a beautiful object. This joy is but a survival of the great joy we experienced as a *Mena,8i-S6; Phaedrus, 2^7-2^1, 30 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT disembodied spirit on beholding beauty in its eternal verity. The wandering soul does not forget aU it has seen in its heavenly home. It is for this reason that objects on earth cause some of us to recollect the true beauty in the heavens. Recollections of this sort cause an ecstasy, which seems madness to those who do not experience such recollections.* It thus seems certain that Plato took seriously the current beliefs in preexistence and metempsychosis. Indeed, he took great pains to substitute an ordered world of the dead for a disordered one. That is to say, he wished to banish from the world of the living the vast array of disembodied souls, and to assign them a home of their own. In this way he hoped to free the living from the fear of being molested by the dead, as well as from their feelings of dependence on departed ancestors. The dead could not affect the living; nor could the living affect the dead. Hence, the various rites to purify the ghosts before they were to become reincarnated became unnecessary. The living were instructed to attend to their own affairs and leave the dead to attend to theirs. The world, thus freed from the interference of ghosts, offered a more fitting place for the influence of the Olympian gods. However these, like the souls of the dead, were assigned an abode of their own. It is true they were permitted to interfere occasionally in the affairs of men, but this interference took place for the * Phoedrus, 249-251. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION SI most part in the remote past. Indeed, at one time, in the very remote past, they lived with men, and this was the Golden Age. But now they have departed, leaving men largely free to work out their own destiny with the aid of the various arts and virtues given by the gods.* As a result of this change, the marvellous deeds that had formerly been regarded as the work of a won- derful ancestor were now regarded as due to certain capacities which the gods had implanted in man. It is in this way that Plato accounts for the existence of the political virtues in the Protagorean Myth, and for virtues in general, when he says: "Virtue is neither natural nor acquired but an instinct given by God to the Virtuous."t It is not necessary that we make much of the fact that Plato took seriously his myths. It is more im- portant to know that they were taken seriously by many. That they were is shown beyond all doubt by the cult practices of the Greeks. Nor are there lacking to-day believers in the conceptions on which they are founded. There have been from the early dawn of culture believers in metempsychosis. In the Orient they run into the millions. In the Occident similar beliefs form the foundation of various "New Thought" cults. From primitive man they have come to us in an unbroken chain, and philosophers have not been lacking to defend them. Thus, from Plato, * Statesman, 269-275. i[ Protagoras, 321-322; Meno, gg. 32 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT Origen and Justin Martyr accepted them, holding that in the beginning God created the souls of all men, which subsequently as punishment for sin were incarnated in bodies until discipline rendered them fit for spiritual existence. Poets have also found this a favorite theme. It is the belief in preexistence and metempsychosis that gives point to Wordsworth's Ode on the Intimations of Immortality : "Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting ! The soul that rises with us, our life's Star, Hath had elsewhere its setting And cometh from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come. From God, who is our home." The same conceptions are expressed by Browning in Evelyn Hope : "I claim you still for my own love's sake! Delayed it may be for more lives yet. Through worlds I shall traverse not a few; Much is to learn, much to forget Ere the time be come for taking you." More seriously John and Ellis M'Taggart in their recent book — Human Immortality and Preexistence, have attempted to defend the belief in preexistence on the ground that preexistence is necessary to account for the behavior of man. How else, according to these HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 33 writers, can we account for love at first sight ? What can be more reasonable than to assume that the lovers had grown attached to each other in a previous exist- ence? Love at first sight is really not love at first sight. It is the result of a loiig period of intimacy in another existence and the joy at seeing a familiar face. An explanation of the same nature is advanced to ac- count for the fact that some men are wiser than others, that some men are prudent and some are not. These traits, the M'Taggarts tell us, were acquired in a previ- ous existence by their possessors. Those who lack them here failed to acquire them in a previous existence. Explanations of this sort make behavior and in- dividual differences wonderfully simple. No matter what a man may be or may do, there is no want of an explanation ready-made. While the belief in metempsychosis is still to be found in Western Thought, it has not had a profound influence. It should be regarded more as a side cur- rent, which has perhaps colored our thinking vmcon- sciously, than as a conception consciously embraced.i The more influential conception invoked to explain the activities of organisms that seem to lie beyond their capacities and experience is the thought Plato gave expression to in sa3ang that virtues are the gifts of God. There can be discerned in this transition from the primitive beliefs in magic and spirits and preexistence to that of gods, and finally to God, a tendency to re- 34 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT lieve man always of fears of the spirit world. The dark world of goblins becomes less dark. The fears of spirits become less. The gods become less petty and malicious, while God leaves man in comparative free- dom after the creative act. Yet man retains many of the solutions of earlier conceptions. Primitive man regards himself as having sprung from a race of su- perior beings, who gave rise to a number of lesser beings, among whom he counts himself. Sparks of the divine, however, occasionally flash within him, and around him are still vast numbers of superior an- cestors, whose good-will he must win or else suffer the consequences. Later these conceptions give place to a more ordered rule of the gods. The strange or the unusual is not the work of an ancestor or spirit. It is the work of a god. Finally, the wonderful acts are regarded not as the result of the direct action of a god on man. They are regarded rather as due to the endowments given man by God, This is the point Thomas Aquinas reaches in his explanation of the existence of certain habits in man which seem to He beyond the natural capacities of man. Thomas seems puzzled that there should be in man the disposition to seek ends which cannot be justified in terms of his egoistic desires. He therefore raises the question: Are there habits infused into man by God ? This he answers in the affirmative. The reason he gives for his answer is what interests us. In ad- dition to the scriptural authority which he cites in HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 35 support of his answer, he holds that there are some habits in man which exceed the goodness of human nature, for they impel man to seek ends which are be- yond his nature. Therefore, he concludes, "Such habits can never be in man except by divine infusion, as is the case with all gratuitous virtues." * Bacon also seems to have felt that some of man's moral ideas are too sublime to be the result of his nat- ural powers. Instead of regarding them, however, as habits or dispositions infused by God, he prefers to regard them as survivals of a former state of purity, that is, of the state of man before his fall. At that time man was much more wonderful than now and lived on a higher moral plane. Hence, what seems to lie beyond the natural powers of man to-day may well have been within his powers during the Golden Age. The experience of man at that time may accordingly be used to throw light on his present ideas. Thus Bacon seems to have thought when he held that cer- tain of man's moral ideas are too sublime to have been acquired by his natural powers, and substituted for this method of acquiring them the operation of an "internal instinct " or of the spark which remains of "primitive and pristine purity." f So far had the most progressive philosopher of his day advanced beyond primitive notions of occasional flashes of the divine within us ! * Swmma, Part II, First Part, Q ji. Art. 4. * Advancement of Learning, Ninth Book. 36 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT This conception of instincts as impressions from God, or as habits infused by him, or as remains of a primitive state of purity, has been a popular one to account for anything unusual or mysterious in behavior. It is this conception that Alciphron complains of when he says: "I am for admitting no inward speech, no holy instincts, or suggestions of light and spirit." * It is not only the unusual that has invited explana- tions in mystical terms. Even the commonplace in a theological age may be used to show how necessary recourse to divine agencies is in explaining human behavior. Thus Malebranche held that even the connection between the pleasurable and beneficial could be ac- counted for only on the assumption of divine inter- position. Why should they be connected? Why should we feel pleasure when we experience the bene- ficial ? t The fact that we do reveals the hand of Deity. Man does not seek pleasure, but pleasure is attached to the objects of the natural inclinations, because the natural inclinations are impressions from God. It is, therefore, in obedience to God's voice when we yield to our instincts in order to satisfy our senses and pas- sions. "Le plaisir est un instinct de la nature, ou par- ler plus clairement, c'est une impression de Dieu m^me, qui incline vers quelque bien."{ * Berkeley, Alciphron, 4th Dialogue, section 7. fThe numerous exceptions may be regarded as invalidating Male- branche's explanation. tDe la Recherche de la ViriU, 43, 499, quoted from Drever, Instinct in Man, 27. mSTORICAL ORIENTATION 37 The spirit of inquiry became too strong, however, to permit such explanations and conceptions to pass unquestioned. Hobbes reacted vigorously against them. Whatever man did was by that fact demon- strated to be within the power of man to do. What we should seek to know, therefore, are the principles regu- lating his behavior. These principles, Hobbes held, could be reduced to the principle of self-interest. Each man seeks what he regards as his own good. If this serves also the good of others, and has the appearance of sacrifice, so much the better. The appearance of sacrifice, however, should not mislead us. It is a de- ception. If we could only see the motives lying back of all activity, we should see that all are selfish. In this attempt to make man's behavior intelligible without recourse to hidden agencies, Hobbes seems to have neglected to take into account the fact that man is profoimdly influenced by his group, and that much of his psychic energy comes from society, that is, from sources external to himself. If he had recognized these facts, he would have seen that man is not the calculating machine that he had supposed. He would have found that the intensification of life and the thrills and enthusiasms that result from coming into contact with the group can never be accounted for as the result of hedonistic calculation. He would have found the same true regarding the feeling that back of one there is a force more noble and less selfish directing and helping the individual to ends prized by 38 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT the group. In his reaction against the mysticism and theological speculations, Hobbes failed to give due consideration to the existence of social forces which make the individual act in a way that is clearly not to the advantage of the individual. Social forces of this nature cannot be reduced to selfish calculation. The reality of these forces consists in the reality of form as opposed to that of matter. There is no wonder, then, that the explanations of Hobbes aroused a storm of opposition, and that they were attacked as libels on human nature. For man is not the calculating machine Hobbes would make of him. The depths of his personality can never be ex- hausted in this way. He is a creature of impulse, a creature in whom there are innate moral ideas, a crea- ture whom God directs to noble acts and fills with enthusiasms. So the moral philosophers following Hobbes reacted.* The old conception of innate moral ideas, of in- stincts implanted by God, of impressions from God, af- forded welcomed means for protecting the moral worth of man against the "libels" of Hobbes. These concep- tions served admirably to throw around man's activi- ties a mystery, which can but be satisfying to the in- dividual who feels that no matter how he is analyzed there remains something of his personality unaccounted for. This feeling is the stronghold of the objector of analysis. It is felt that personality is too intimate to * Notably Cudworth, Clarke, Cumberland, and Shaftesbury. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 39 be spread out in concepts. The heart of a person can- not be learned in this way. It is only dissipated in the process. Hence the feeling that explanations do not explain. Rather they destroy the reality for which an explanation is sought. Analysis does a violence to personality that is distasteful. It is much more com- forting to lock the secrets of one's inner being in a mysterious concept that is not open to investigation than to lay bare one's inmost soul to the gaze of those who cannot appreciate or imderstand. It is for these reasons that the attempts of the physiologists to account for behavior in terms of struc- ture encountered, along with the rationalistic attempts of Hobbes and other hedonists, a storm of opposition, which clearly reveals the love of man for the hidden and obscure when his acts and motives are in ques- tion. The physiologists, like Hobbes and Locke, were wearied of explaining the observed in terms of the less well known. They therefore made the attempt to account for the behavior of organisms in terms of structure and physiological condition. They rightly held that, if behavior cannot be explained in this way, there is no use of making an appeal to innate guides or impressions from Deity. The organization of the creature is the best key available to its behavior. This is the position of Reimar and Herder. Cabanis went further in his recognition of the pro- found influence pf the physiological condition of the 40 THE SOCIAL EHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT structure on the behavior. Variations of behavior are not due to variations' in structure but to variations in the condition of the structure. This is obviously the method physiologists must take, for the structure may be constant,, as far as any one can tell, and yet the behavior be different. This Cabanis clearly recog- nized. He accordingly attempted to trace variations in behavior to variations in the physiological condi- tion of the organism.* One may not be inclined to accept the explanations of Hobbes or of the physiologists and yet admit that these explanations furnish us with illustrations of the kind of explanations that should guide us in our ef- forts to understand the behavior of organisms. Ex- planations, to be satisfactory, must be in terms of this nature, rather than in terms of obscure and hidden entities. Yet these attempts could not be tolerated by the age in which they were advanced. They de- nied the mysterious side of activity; they failed to explain in virtue of what force or agency the organism acted. They therefore stood condemned. * Lewes quotes an interesting observation of Cabanis: "In my own province and some of the neighboring provinces, when there is a scarcity of sitting hens, a singular practice is customary. We take a capon, pluck off the feathers from its abdomen, rub it with nettles and vinegar, and in this state of local irritation, place the capon upon the eggs. At first he remains there to sooth the pain, soon there is established within him a series of vinaccustomed and agreeable impressions, which attaches him to the eggs during the period of incubation, and the effect is to produce in him a sort of factitious maternal love, which endures like that of the hen, as long as the chicks have need of aid and protection." (Lewes, His- tory of Philosophy, vol. II, 374.) HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 41 As Lewes says: "The profounder view of Cabanis, which regarded mind as one aspect of life, was replaced by the old metaphysical conception of le Moi — the Ego — the immaterial entity playing upon the brain as the musician plays upon an instrument. Instinct was no longer regarded as determined by the organ- ism* changing with its changes, rendered abortive by mutilations, and rendered active by stimulation; but as a 'mysterious principle' implanted in the organism; a 'something' which although essentially mysterious and unknowable, appeared perfectly well known to the metaphysicians." f Lewes might well have had Hancock in mind when writing the above, for the views he complains of are the ones defended vigorously by Hancock. After an examination of the views of the physiolo- gists, Hancock summarizes them as follows: "Some have considered that a material structure or simple arrangement of organs endowed with the principle of life or living organic structures possessing vital prop- erties give rise to all the phenomena of which we see the brutes to be capable, and that it is not necessary to have recourse to a principle which they affirm to be mysterious and inexplicable like that of instinct." % These views he could not tolerate. For they not only attacked the justice of God, but, much worse, * Here Lewes seems to seek support for his views from ep.rlier ones, but as we have seen, the reaction he complains of is simply a reversion to older metaphysical conceptions. \Ibid., vol. II, 375. { Hancock, On Instinct, 11. 42 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT they made for scepticism. To think that God would put man in this world and hold him responsible for his deeds, without an innate moral guide, is but to question the justice of God; while the implication that the organization of an animal is self-sufficient to account for its behavior makes the interposition of God no longer necessary, and as a result makes for scepticism and perhaps even atheism.* When naturalistic interpretations are regarded in this way, it is easy to understand that they would arouse a storm of opposition. The view which re- gards behavior as due to divine guidance, or as the result of mysterious principles that are open to no investigation, is more heartily accepted. These are the explanations that Hancock prefers. He there- fore quotes Addison with approval: "For my own part, I look upon instinct as upon the principle of gravitation in bodies, which is not to be explained by any known quality inherent in the bodies themselves, nor from the laws of mechanism, but, ac- cording to the notions of our greatest philosophers, is an immediate impression from the First Mover and Di- vine energy acting in the creatures." In a like manner Reid explains the wonderful work of hive-building by the bees as God working through the bees: "We must therefore conclude that, although the bees act geometrically, yet they understand neither the rules nor the principles of the arts which they prac- *Ibid., 265, 130. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 43 tise so skilfully; and that the geometry is not in the bee, but in the great Geometrician who made the bee, and made all things in number, weight, and measure."* This is the conception of instinct that Hancock de- fends. Thus, he writes: "We shall have the oppor- tunity of referring instinct to its proper source — the pervading influence of Deity in his works." No won- der he quotes with approval from Boyle's dissertation on The Soul of Brutes: "Deus est anima brutorum." At first glance it seems strange that man's feelings of worth should be magnified through acclaiming his inability to account for the behavior of brutes along with his own. It seems that he should take pride in knowing. Yet he takes delight in proclaiming his im- potence to fathom the springs of behavior. It would seem that he delights to humble himself. This humility, however, is more apparent than real, for it consists largely in attributing his ignorance to the fact that those things of which he is ignorant are locked in the secrets of Divine mystery. At the same time he claims considerable knowledge about the se- crets of God's mind. Thus man at one stroke hum- bles himself in order that he may be exalted. For the difficulties of investigation are siibstituted acts of faith. But acts of faith seem even more heavily laden with feelings of satisfaction than knowledge itself. His delight in proclaiming his inability to know saves him the labor of investigation, and at the same time pro- *Ibid., 20. 44 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT vides him with an opportunity to enjoy the exhilarating effects of a devout act of piety. An illustration of this is furnished in the delight Garratt takes in declaring the worthlessness of specu- lations regarding the nature of instincts, and his will- ingness to leave all problems of this nature where they should be left by all men of faith: "Much has been written by the ablest pens, and no less profuse by the most profound in philosophy, as to the nature or es- sence of instinct, and the manner by which it operates; and we think all to no purpose. Both subjects are exceedingly obscure, and we have seen no light thrown upon it, nor shall we expect to see any, for our belief is that it was never intended that the human mind should explore them. We shall have little to say upon these questions which shut up all investigators to despair." "And though they bewilder the sceptic, their mysteries are no source of worry to the man of faith. He knows where to rest them in safety." * I have presented in the foregoing the explanations of behavior in terms of metempsychosis and in terms of impressions from an ancestor or from God. The first is founded on belief in reincarnation. According to this view, the individual in the course of his many incarnations acquires a mass of wisdom and impulses which are manifested in this life. Consequently, any difficulty that may be encountered in understanding the behavior of the individual in question is easily * The Marvels and Mysteries of Instinct, 28, 267. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 45 banished by regarding it as due to the experiences undergone in another existence. The latter explana- tion is based on the assumption that ancestors or God from time to time assxmie control of the individual. According to this conception, the strange or unusual behavior is regarded as dij^e to an impression from a spirit or from God. Both conceptions provide a fimd of ready-made explanation to meet any possible difficulty. It is hardly necessary to point out objections to these interpretations of behavior. In the first place, we en- counter the same difficulties in attempting to account for the experiences of another incarnation that we do in accounting for experiences in this one. Nor is it any easier to understand the mind of spirits than our own. In the attempt to answer the question, Why does the ancestor give this impression at this time? we are led to transfer the problems of psychology to another realm without any appreciable advantage. In fact, it should be apparent that explanations of this nature consist largely in explaining one Unknown by another Unknown raised to the nth. power. Nor do explanations of this nature provide us with the means to control and predict behavior. Spirits may be per- suaded, but at best they are notional, and we can never tell whether they will act as we wish or not. Hence, they are not satisfactory as an explanation, for what we should seek in an explanation are the factors which will provide us not only with the key to pre- diction but also, if possible, to control. 46 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT For these reasons explanations of this order have ceased to exert any great influence on Western Thought. With the exception of the poets and the adherents of "New Thought" cults no one regards the individual as bringing with him into this world a mass of experience acquired by him in a previous incarna- tion. Nor is it longer felt in scientific circles that ex- planations in terms of impressions from God are satis- factory. The inadequacies of these explanations have resulted in their abandonment. But we still cling to conceptions closely akin. These latter conceptions have sprung up around the theory of evolution. Instead of regarding the individual as acquiring a mass of psychic dispositions as the result of his experi- ence in other worlds, the individual is regarded as bom with a mass of ready-made impulses acquired by the species. The species makes the acquisitions, but they influence no less profoundly the behavior of the individual. The individual is no longer regarded as remembering the experience, but he acts the experi- ence none the less. Hence, as far as the behavior is concerned, there is still assumed back of it a mass of experience indefinitely extended, which serves to pro- vide a fund of ready-made explanations as great as that provided by metempsychosis. Or, to compare the evolutionary interpretation of behavior with the theological, there has been substi- tuted for the wisdom of God the wisdom of the species, and for the impressions of God have been substituted HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 47 impulses acquired by the species in the course of its adaptations to conditions long since passed. Substitution of this order may be seen even in Dar- win's writings through his acceptance of the theory of the inheritance of acquired characters. It is more clearly seen, however, in the writings of some of his followers. Maudsley's explanation of the spider's web furnishes an excellent example, which may be brought out most clearly by a comparison of Maudsley's ex- planation of the spider's web with Reid's explanation of the beehive. It is to be recalled that when Reid found himself unable to account for the hive-making activities he referred them to the influence of "the great Geome- trician" in the bee. When Maudsley is confronted with similar difl&culties regarding the spider's web, he banishes them by making an appeal to the experience and wisdom of the species. Thus he writes: "If the spider's web be not the accumulated design of past structural adaptations time out of mind, whence in a world of natural causes and effects has the achieved design come? Whence every animal instinct if it be not the fit and rational adaptations of self and not- self now fixed in structure — the incorporate memory in the individual of ancestral experiences through the ages? "* This substitution may be clearly seen also in a com- parison of Spencer's account of the innate moral ideas * Organic to Human : Psychological and Sociological, 43. 48 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT with the conception of innate moral ideas as God- implanted. This latter view Spencer criticises. Not because he does not believe there are innate moral ideas. He in- sists that they exist. It is the source of them that he questions. For the intuitionalist, they were implanted by God; for Spencer, they are the result of the ac- cumulated experience of the species. This substitu- tion is clearly seen in the following: "Nor is it other- wise with the pure intuitionists, who hold that moral perceptions are innate in the original sense — thinkers whose \dew is that men have been divinely endowed with moral faculties; not that these have resulted from inherited modifications caused by accumulated experience." * Perhaps one of the best examples of this substittition is provided in a comparison of the explanation of the connection of the pleasurable with the beneficial as advanced by Malebranche and by Sutherland. According to Malebranche, it is to be remembered, the connection is a God-given one. Sutherland also feels that the connection requires an explanation. Why should we feel pleasure when benefited ? A con- nection can be here only as a result of the slow process of adaptation of the species. So Sutherland insists. It is as a result of such adaptations that we feel pleasure when benefited. "Every pleasure," he says, "that we experience implies a sensation which, having always * Data of Ethics, section 20. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 49 been beneficial, we are inclined to continue or repeat, because our organisms as a necessary preservative quality have become adapted to respond to them in that way. The more ancient the date of the begin- ning of the adaptation, the more deeply and myste- riously implanted is the capacity of emotion that is connected therewith."* How bleak must have been the existence of organ- isms before the species had accustomed themselves to react with pleasure to beneficial stimuli ! In the same paragraph from which the above is quoted, Sutherland makes use of conceptions similar to those of Plato in accounting for the pleasure we feel on seeing certain beautiful scenes. According to Plato our joy at seeing a beautiful object is due to the recollection of the joy we experi- enced at seeing true beauty in heaven. According to Sutherland the joy we feel at seeing beautiful wood- land scenes is due to the experiences of our ancestors in the woodland. Thus he writes: "Strange yearn- ings fill the soul at the deep rustle of the forest, unac- coimtable impulses at the sight of clear waters through which the sun glimmers up from sandy or pebble bot- tom. Those instincts of beauty to which the poet so constantly appeals are often somewhat latent; and, when they are at touch awakened, they leave the im- pression of echoes of a time when our race spent all its time in the open air, echoes vaguely recorded, per- * The Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, 92. 50 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT haps in the nerve adaptations from the time when man's progenitors dwelt in the forest or sea-margin." Thus, if we should ask Plato why we feel pleasure on seeing a beautiful forest scene, he would tell us that it is due to the fact that it causes us to recollect our joy at beholding beauty in its eternal essence. If the same question should be asked Sutherland, he would reply that it is due to the fact that our ancestors spent a great deal of time amid such surroundings, and that as a consequence our organisms have grown accus- tomed to regard them with feelings of pleasure. For Plato the joy is due to our experience in another in- carnation; for Sutherland it is due to our ancestors' experience. If we accept the theory of plurality of incarnations, Plato's view becomes intelligible, for it is a common experience for us to feel joy and pleasure at the sight of an object which arouses in us certain memories or associations. It is natural to suppose that our own experience should at times be recalled and that it should affect us. Sutherland's view, however, is not so intelligible; for it is hard to understand how our ancestors' experience can affect us* — save, of course, as stimuli may be provided as a result of our ancestors' * If one wishes to follow Samuel Butler m his bold defense of the thesis that each member of a spedes inherits memories of past vital processes and adaptations of the species, he may possibly make Sutherland's position intelligible. But short of this it is hard to make Sutherland's position intelligible. For statement of Butler's position see his Uncon- scious Memory. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 51 activities. Both explanations are the result of arti- ficial problems. Neither solves the problems satis- factorily. The explanation of Plato seems to be due to an ex- aggeration of the diflSiculty so commonly experienced in trying to picture a true beginning or novelty. How can tilings begin to be? How can we acquire knowl- edge ? How can we experience joy at beholding a beau- tiful object? These experiences can take place only as the result of reminiscences. What the mind experi- ences or gives rise to, must have been in the mind. The stimuli only call it forth. So Plato held. A little thought, however, shows us that this does not help us over the difficulty. How did the soul make its acquisitions in a previous existence? The knowl- edge must have been acquired somewhere. The ex- perience of joy must at one time have been novel. If they are regarded as originating in a previous exist- ence, we wish to know at once why the experience should have given joy in that existence. The answer to this question would probably make it clear that the joy was then aroused for the same reason that the recollection of the joy is now supposed to give pleasure. But if this is true, then we may well aban- don the conception of reminiscence, and explain the joy in terms of causes that are operative here and now. For there is no reason to suppose that joy and pleasure cannot begin in this incarnation. On the other hand, we know that they do begin here, for even pleasures 52 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT due to recollections have a beginning. This begin- ning must be due to causes that are operating here and now. Hence, the scene which is supposed to arouse pleasure by recollection may be regarded as amply sufl&cient to arouse the pleasure without the assump- tion that it had been experienced before. The conception of Sutherland suffers from the same difficulties. There is no reason to suppose that the delight we experience at beholding a beautiful wood- land is due to the fact that our ancestors experienced such delight, or even saw a forest. Such assumptions are quite worthless; for if our pleasure is due to the same causes that aroused it in our ancestors, there is no need to invoke ancestral experiences, since in both cases the same causes produce the same effects. On the other hand, if our pleasure is not due to the same causes, it is difficult to understand how the pleasure of our ancestors, induced in one way, can be used as an explanation of our pleasure induced in another. In spite of these difficulties, which are common to all attempts to deny true beginnings here and now, whether they take the form of appeals to other in- carnations or to ancestral experience, many appeals are made to phylogeny in the vain hope that the be- havior of the individual may be explained in terms of the experience of the species. Thus Frink explains the roughness of the lover as due to the period in the history of man in which it was necessary that he capture his bride.* Hall advances a * Morbid Fears and Comfmlsions, 12-13. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 63 similar explanation of the stages of bashfulness in boys and girls* and lays down "the general psychonomic law, which assumes that we are influenced in our deeper and more temperamental dispositions by the life habits and codes of conduct of we know not what unnum- bered hosts of ancestors, which like a cloud of witnesses are present throughout our lives, and that our souls are echo-chambers in which their whispers reverber- ate." t Sometimes, according to Patrick, these whispers break out and we have the howl of glee. Indeed, these whispers or ancestral memories are used by him as an explanation of laughter. It is when these memories break through social conventions that we have laugh- ter. Laughter, he holds, "is a form of release, release from the galling grip of social claims. It is the ex- * "While boys in general are more prone to showing off, they often incline in eajly adolescence a little toward modesty, and girls, usually a little moreTetiring at this period, now for a time become less so. Pos- sibly this may be reminiscent of the time when the human female, for- merly, like the female in the animal world, less beautiful than the male, by ornament or new access of attraction from nature became more so, and the initial forwardness of girls may be a rudiment of the age when the woman was the active agent in domesticating man and developing the family in the way Bachofen and Drummond suggest. On this view woman must once have had courtship proclivities for a long period, after as well as before motherhood. Her endeavor was to hold man by her attractions to his duties and responsibilities in the long years that pre- ceded marriage, which clinched the obligations. Thus the inherited effects of the primeval desire to hold are now added, perhaps by tachy- genesis, to the maiden desire to win him. If this be correct, modern woman's wish to please is a survival of the not yet spent momentiun of her culminating achievement in the gre.at work of domestication." (Psychology of Adoletcence, vol. II, 372-373.) f Ibid., 61. 54 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT pression of glee when we feel the cogs of civilization slip a little. It is the 'subconscious satisfaction' which we have in old racial memories by the perception of social lapses of all kinds."* The assumption that ancestral memories of this sort profoundly influence the behavior of the present generation is the basis of Patrick's explanation of the play of children and many of the desires and impulses of adults. Thus he writes regarding the play of chil- dseij,; "The mental habits of the child seem like echoes from the remote past, recalling the life of the cave, the forest,- the stream. The instinct exhibited in infancy to climb stairs, ladders, trees, lamp-posts, anything, reminds us of forest life. The hide-and-seek games which appeal so powerfully to even the youngest chil- dren recall the cave life of our ancestors, or at least some mode of existence in which concealment from our enemies, whether human or animal, was the con- dition of survival; while the instinct of infants to gravi- tate to the nearest pond or puddle, the wading, swimming, fishing, and boating proclivities of every youngster, seem like the reminiscences of the time when our fathers lived near or by means of the water." f * Psychology of Relaxation, 107. This explanation is closely akin to Bergson's, which he quotes with approval. According to Bergson, to laugh "seems as if an appeal had been made within us to certain an- cestral memories belonging to a far-away past — memories so deep- seated and foreign to our present life that the latter seems something unreal and conventional, for which we shall have to serve a fresh ap- prenticeship." {Laughter, 157.) t Ibid., 54. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 55 To interpret the behavior of the individual in terms of the race's experience, the behavior need not be similar. Thus Patrick accounts for the pleasure we have in speeding cars as a result of the fact that speed was necessary when man had to escape dangers by- flight and catch his food in pursuit. In the same way, Wallas, when he wishes to account for the fear that is experienced on coming suddenly into the presence of a sovereign, makes use of the happy thought that if our ancestors had not shown the paralyzing effect of fear of this sort on coming suddenly upon a bear, lion, or cuttlefish, they would have been devoured. Our ancestors when they came upon a cuttlefish suddenly were unable to move on account of fear. Therefore, when the modem man comes upon his king suddenly he too is paralyzed by fear ! * One of the great hopes that lie back of the use of our ancestors' experience to account for our behavior is that our behavior may be made intelligible through the intelligible adaptations of the species. That is to say, many impulses and acts of man appear to us irra- tional. We cannot understand them. If they could only be rationalized in the light of a greatly extended experience, we could understand. If the acts that appear to us irrational were once necessary, then they would become clear. Thus the play impulses of children are accounted for as the necessary responses of man to primitive * Human Nature in Politics, 34. 56 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT conditions of living. The love of racing in high-power cars becomes intelligible when we remember that fleet- ness was once a condition of survival. The courtship proclivities of women become intelligible when we re- member that formerly woman had to win the man. The fear a man experiences in the presence of his king becomes intelligible when we remember that fear was the condition of survival in the presence of the cuttle- fish. The love of man for hunting and fishing, his tendency to tease and bully, become intelligible when we remember that hunting and fishing were once the means of providing self and family with food, and so on. It is thus as a result of the experience and ad- justments of our ancestors that we have come into possession of a store of impulses which cause us to act in all sorts of irrational ways.* The use of intelligible adaptations to account for acts that seem irrational is admirably illustrated by the use that Crile makes of the necessity which com- pelled our ancestors to hunt and fish to account for the pleasure that we experience in such "irrational" modes of behavior. That a man of wealth should face the discomforts * It is in line with this that Wallas holds that man is bom with a mass of dispositions related intelligibly to, a world of tropics in which he spent so large a part of his existence. {The Great Society, 6i.) All writers do not recognize that, even though our instincts may be the "rational" and intelUgible responses to certain conditions, they are not necessarily the "rational" responses to present conditions. For ex- ample, according to Parker, they are the tried and effident guides to conduct — no matter how irrational and embarrassing they may appear. {The Casttal Laborer, 133.) HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 57 involved in hunting or fishing seems to Crile irrational. Such irrational behavior requires an explanation. In- stead of looking for it, however, in the experience of the individual, he makes an appeal to the history of the race. He thus finds that at one time hunting and fishing were necessary in order to procure food. Con- sequently, as a result of this necessity, he holds that man stiU takes pleasure in these pastimes, and feels the same excitement on catching a fish that his re- mote ancestor did, even though the ancestor's life may have depended on the catch, and even though the modern man may be in no need for food. "How suggestive is it that man, possessing vast fortunes and surrounded by every luxury, frequently yearns to hunt and to fish, to be dirty and hungry and wild, to stalk and to kill, caring not at all for the discomfort or the flight of time — that thus easily his civilized veneer may be dispossessed by the spirit of the savage recall. It is the savage in him that is throw- ing all his resources into the task of catching and killing his prey; and when at last the salmon or trout is hooked, what a display of excitement over the con- quest ! It is as if a life were at stake. "This is not strange when we recall that on innumer- able occasions the life of the fisherman's progenitors must have depended upon the catching of a single fish. Those individuals who did not exert themselves suf- ficiently to provide food for themselves were destroyed by the more industrious beasts and left no progeny. 58 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT The almost universal excitement of man in the pres- ence of wild game testifies to the tragic seriousness of the ancestral hunt. It is, indeed, a strong and deep savage instinct that can with ease dispossess the brain of business, ambition, worry, and care." * A somewhat similar use of impulses that are the results of the "rational" behavior of the species is made by Thorndike to account for the seeming "irra- tional" behavior of men to-day. This is seen in the use he makes of the hunting instinct, which he holds grew up under conditions that made hunting, if not necessary, at least an appropriate method of securing food, to explain such irrational acts as teasing, bully- ing, cruelty, hounding of Quakers, and so on. It seems as if he feels it strange that children should wish to tease each other. Since he cannot give a ra- tionalistic interpretation of such behavior in terms of the individual's experience, he makes use of the spe- cies' experience in order that he may rationalize it in the light of this greatly extended experience. These are the assumptions that seem to underlie the following explanation of teasing, bull3dng, etc.: "The presence of this tendency in man's nature under the conditions of civilized life gets him little food and much trouble. There being no wild animals to pursue, catch, and torment into submission or death, household pets, young and timid children, or even aunts, governesses, or nursemaids, if sufl&ciently yield- * A Mechanistic View of War and Peace, 53-54. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 59 ing, provoke the response from the young. The older indulge the propensity at great cost of time and money in hunting beasts, or at still greater cost of manhood in hounding Quakers, Chinamen, scabs, prophets, or suffragettes of the non-militant variety. Teasing, bullying, cruelty are thus in part the results of one of nature's means of providing self and family with food; and what grew up as a pillar of human self-support has become so extravagant a luxury as to be almost a vice." * Thus Crile explains the love of hunting and fishing in terms of the necessities of our ancestors. Thom-r dike uses the same necessities to accoimt for the teas- ing of children and the hounding of Quakers ! In spite of the ridicule Thomdike heaps upon the use of instincts as "magic potencies," which have the power of being aroused by a multitude of situations and of expressing themselves in many ways,t the use he here makes of the hunting instinct seems to be a recall of "magic potencies" in its worst form. Else- where he very rightly maintains that there is no ad- vantage in invoking various agencies to connect vari- ous stimuli with various responses. This, however, is what he here does. The hunting instinct, which grew up in the race as a rational adaptation, now becomes an agency to connect many stimuli with many irra- tional modes of behavior. * Educational Psychology, vol. I, 53- t Thomdike, Educational Psychology, vol. I, 12-15; 210. 60 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT The use McDougall makes of instincts as explana- tions of behavior is more far-sweeping. AH activity, he holds, is the result of instincts. Thus he writes: "Take away these instinctive dispositions with their powerful impulses and the organism would become in- capable of activity of any kind; it would lie inert and motionless like a wonderful clockwork whose main- spring had been removed, or a steam-engine whose fires had been drawn. These impulses are the mental forces that maintain and shape all the life of individuals and societies, and in them are we confronted with the central mystery of life and mind and will." * It is in line with the above that McDougall holds that for each activity there must be a corresponding instinct. Thus he tells us that we can never explain "why" men are at times bashful or show shame, un- less we assume the existence of an instinct of self-abase- ment. The same necessity of an instinct is felt to account for the fact that we sometimes adopt the sug- gestion of others and at other times act counter to the suggestion. Behavior of this sort, he says, makes it necessary that we assume the existence of an instinct of suggestion and one of counter-suggestion. He does not tell us what instinct is responsible for intermediate courses which are neither according to the suggestion nor counter to it. Perhaps there should be an instinct of non-suggestion. The question naturally arises regarding the source * Social Psychology, 44. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 61 or origin of the powerful drives McDougall posits. McDougall, in answer to this, makes use of two con- ceptions, namely, the evolutionary and an account based on vitalism. The latter may be regarded as supplementary to the former, for naturally, according to McDougaU's view, if instincts are adaptations of the species, the species must have possessed certain forces in virtue of which it could act before the adapta- tions had taken place. This can be clearly seen in McDougaU's account. In his Social Psychology McDougall tells us that instincts are "innate specific tendencies of mind that are common to all members of any one species, racial characters that have been slowly evolved in the process of adaptation of the species to their environment, and that can neither be eradicated from the mental con- stitution of which they are innate elements nor ac- quired by individuals in the course of their lifetime." * To this account of the origin of the "powerful im- pulses that are necessary for activity," the obvious objection is that it fails to account for activity before the species had made their acquisitions. Before the evolution of the impulses, in virtue of what did the organism act? To answer this question, McDougall makes use of his vitalistic conceptions. Instincts are not merely adaptations of the species; they are the forces in virtue of which the organisms made their adaptations. In brief, instincts are for McDougall * Social Psychology, 22. 62 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT differentiations of the Elan Vital, and it is as a result of their activities that the species have come to be what they are. Thus he writes: "I hold that instincts are differentiations of the 'Elan Vital,' by means of which it pushes along di- verging paths, creating by their agency the various great families of the animal kingdom; each animated by the great instincts common to all: the tendencies to seek food and to reproduce their kind; each also animated by special instincts characteristic of the group; each creating for its own service the bodily organs and nervous structures best suited to serve it as an instrument by means of which it may secure the satisfaction of its conative impulses." * This control likewise plays an important part in the development of the embryo: "The embryo seems to be resolved to acquire a certain form and structure, and to be capable of overcoming very great obstacles placed in its path. There is something analogous to the persistence of any creature to achieve its ends or purposes, and the satisfaction of its needs under the driving power of instinctive impulse or craving. In both cases mechanical obstacles turn aside the course of events from the normal or direct path; but in what- ever direction or in whatever manner the turning aside is caused, the organism adjusts itself to the changed conditions, and, in virtue of some obscure directive power, sets itself once more upon the road to its goal; * British Journal of Psychology, vol. Ill, 239- HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 63 which, under the altered conditions, it achieves only by means of steps that are different, sometimes ex- tremely different, from the normal." * We thus have a complete account of the origin of instipfits: They are^adagtations^jfjhejpedes. They are differentiations of the Elan Vital, which have di- rected the course of evolution. They are obscure di- rective powers, which watch over the development of the individual. How simply difficult problems are banished ! The primitive man banishes them into the world of ancestral spirits; the modern, into "differen- tiations of the Elan Vital." Instincts are not only used by psychologists to ra- tionalize the behavior of the individual by indefinitely extending his experience to embrace the experience of the species and to account for activity as a result of the Elan Vital. They are also used by social writers as guides to conduct and social programmes. Indeed, there is a wide-spread belief that the impulses which we possess as a result of the species' adaptations are of greater value than the impulses which we possess as a result of the adaptations that we ourselves have made. As a consequence it is widely held that we need only to follow the promptings of our instincts in order to live most satisfactorily. Justification for this attitude is based on the as- sumption that we inherit a number of impulses, which have survived a long process of elimination in which * Body and Mind, 242. 64 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT all the unfit have been rejected. The existing innate impulses are, therefore, regarded as the best that the species has been able to produce. Accordingly, they furnish us with the needed guides for ethics. That these impulses are of value is further evinced by the fact that we who possess them have been able to survive. If they had not been of value, we as a species would probably have disappeared. Hence, they may well be regarded as the true and tried companions of man during his long period of struggle. The validity of this position does not rest on the assumption of the inheritance of acquired characters. It assumes only that there have been slight variations in man's innate characters. Some of these were good, others were not. The characters that were good, or which proved of value, survived. The others did not. As a result of this process of variation and selection going on for himdreds of thousands of years, man finds himself in possession of innate characters that have proved beyond reasonable doubt their genuine value. We can in the light of the foregoing understand that there should have arisen in the species pleasurable sensations on doing the beneficial. The connection between the beneficial and the pleasurable becomes clear. What pleases us is what the species values. If this be true, then our natural inclinations receive a powerful sanction — for the species in its long history should certainly have learned what is good for its mem- bers. We need not be surprised, therefore, that the HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 65 competency of instincts to furnish us with true mo- tives for conduct should be strongly urged. This Mclndoo does; according to Mclndoo, the in- stincts represent the best tendencies that the past has been able to produce. They should, therefore, be taken as the keys to the good life, and should form the basis of our education. Thus he writes : "The highest laws of life, and therefore of education, are the laws whose foundations are on the bed-rock of instinctive tendencies, which represent the very best that the past has to offer the present; for these race tendencies are those courses that made for good in the lives of our forebears. Therefore a true knowledge of how best to educate the child must be obtained through a study of instinct as related to education." In another place he declares that instincts "are the sum total of the survival values that have been se- lected from the spontaneous variations, through nat- ural selection, in the struggle of the race for existence. They are the best that the past has to offer the future. On the stage of consciousness each one of these race tendencies or instincts must play its part and stamp its impress upon the life of the child. Thus the best that has survived from the experience of the race is recapitulated and laid down as the permanent strati- fication in the life of the child." * In the above, instincts become forces which must leave their impress upon the child. It is not deter- * Instincts as Related to Education, 62, 2. 66 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT mined just how these /orccs will make their impression. They may be thwarted and repressed in various ways, but none the less their force is going to be exerted. If it can be expressed naturally so much the better. It is in line with this that Hall holds: "The deep and strong cravings in the individual to revive the ancestral ex- periences and occupations of the race can and must be met, at least in a secondary and vicarious way." * Of all the writers who are greatly impressed with the significance of instinct for ethics and the social sciences, none are more impressed than Parker and Veblen. According to these writers the instincts are all that the species has considered worth saving, and accordingly, "nothing falls within the human scheme of things desirable to be done except what answers to these native proclivities of man." f Conceptions of this nature seem to rest on the as- sumption so clearly and boldly stated by Spencer, that, since all functions and bodily needs are the products of evolution, they must not only be of value, but that it is the duty of the moral man to give them due exer- cise or expression. "The truth that the ideally moral man," he writes, "is one in whom the moving equi- librium is perfect, or approaches nearest to perfection, becomes, when translated into physiological language, the truth that he is one in whom the functions of all * Psychology of Adolescence, vol. II, 64. t Parker, The Casual Laborer, 134; Veblen, The Instinct of Work- manship, 1. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 67 kinds are duly fulfilled. Each function has some rela- tions, direct or indirect, to the needs of life: the fact of its existence as a result of evolution being itself a proof that it has been entailed, immediately or re- motely, by the adjustment of inner to outer actions. Consequently, non-fulfilment of it in normal propor- tion is non-fulfilment of a requisite to complete life. If there is defective discharge of function, the organ- ism experiences some detrimental result caused by the inadequacy. If the discharge is in excess, there is entailed a reaction upon the other functions, which in some way diminishes their efficiency."* On the basis of this he boldly declares: "Strange as the conclusion looks, it is nevertheless a conclusion to be here drawn, that the performance of every func- tion is, in a sense, a moral obligation."t In the above I have presented briefly three interpre- tations of behavior that are quite different. Yet in these three interpretations, there are three striking similarities which should be pointed out. In the first place, all agree that in order to understand behavior it must be explained or interpreted in terms of experience somewhere acquired or undergone. In the second place, in each of these explanations of behavior, there is the tendency to regard the activity as the result of an impulse or force, manifesting itself in the observed behavior. And in the third place, the activities which are regarded as expressions of these forces— whether * Data of Ethics, section 31. t lii^-, section 32. 68 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT the force be regarded as mana, an ancestor's spirit, impression from God, or a product of evolution does not matter — are endowed with a sort of sanction, which tends to justify them irrespective of their consequences. The fact that the evolutionary interpretation of behavior shows these resemblances to more primitive explanations should not be regarded as detrimental to it. It may as well be regarded as an indication of the fact that man has for a long time been groping in the neighborhood of a true interpretation, and that he has only recently discovered it. The resemblances should be taken as an indication of general truth rather than of general error. To separate the true from the false is our task. As has been said, where there is so much agreement we should expect to find a great deal of truth. In re- gard to the need felt to interpret behavior in terms of experience, this need is rightly felt. To understand purposive behavior, behavior which is the result of conation, it is necessary that we suppose back of the behavior a mass of ideas and desires born of the ex- perience of the organism. Ideas and purposes pre- suppose experience. Apart from sight we have no idea of color. Apart from hearing we have no idea of sound. So it is with all ideas and with purposes. Back of them must lie a mass of experience. There is no mistake, then, in assuming that behavior, to be rendered intelligible, must be explained in terms of experience. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 69 The mistake that is made is in extending the field of experience to include the experience the indi- vidual may have had in a previous existence, or to include the experience or wisdom of God, or to include the experience of the species. Such an extension of the range of experience is unwarranted. Granted that behavior must be interpreted in terms of experi- ence, it must be in terms of the experience of the in- dividual existing here and now. We have not at our caU an unlimited mass of experience. We must con- fine ourselves to the experience about which we really have knowledge and which we can control. It is through knowledge of experience of this sort that we may hope to discover the true determiners of behavior. The tendency to interpret behavior in terms of a force or impulse is not altogether in error. It has a basis in reality. It is true that forces and impulses are experienced in behavior. The mistake is in regarding the force in behavior as a force, apart and independent of the situation in which it is experienced. The primitive man felt that nature was full of such forces, which existed in the form of mana or spirits. Whatever occurred could be viewed as the manifesta- tions of these. The modern man no longer views nature animistically. Nature is robbed of her /ofccs. Human behavior, is no longer regarded as due to the influence oi forces without the organism; it is viewed as the ex- pression of forces within man. Without these forces, it is held, the human organism would lie as inert as 70 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT a steam-engine whose fires had been drawn. It is through the various expressions of these forces that be- havior is to be understood. But the variety and un- certainty of these transformations and expressions be- come so great that we can tell little more regarding them than we can tell regarding the manifestations of the primitive man's spirits. Both the primitive and modern man are wrong. There are no forces, which manifest themselves in vari- ous ways. The forces that are experienced are the forces that are born of the relation of the agent to his environment. The experience of the social forces of the group is of this sort. The force which the individual here feels is born of his contacts with his group, which, like all contacts, profoundly influence him, and bring into existence a world of new emotions and ideals. Emotions and ideals of this sort are not to be regarded as individual products or as adequately accounted for as purely one's own. The mistake is not, then, in seeking the origin of these impulses outside of the in- dividual. It is true that the origin is, in a sense, out- side the individual; for they are due to the relations the individual sustains to his environment. The mis- take is in regarding them as impressions from an an- cestor or from God. The evolutionist makes a mistake equally as great when he regards them as due to im- pulses acquired by the species. There is no reason to regard the impulses as acquisitions of the species which are handed down to us. For in the last analysis they HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 71 must come into existence at one time, and there is no reason to limit this time to the remote past. The present affords as many opportunities for their origin as the past. Why should the stimuli in the past be en- dowed with such an efficiency that they bring into existence impulses, while the stimuli of the present act only to arouse them? Plato's account of the aesthetic appreciations is in- teresting in this connection. The third similarity found in explanations of be- havior based on beliefs in metempsychosis, impres- sions from God, and in instincts is the deference paid to the hidden entities supposed to lie back of the be- havior, regarded as a manifestation of the hidden entity. When the forces lying back of behavior are regarded as urges from an ancestor, it is not surprisiiig that they should be regarded reverently^ and should carry great weight on account of their "pathos." Expediency also demands that such urges be given full consideration, for ancestors are powerful beings who are quick to re- sent any slight. The speculations of Durkheim are interesting in this connection. If, as he points out, the experience that largely imderlies religious conceptions is that of being influenced by a power or force that is recognized as nobler and more praiseworthy than those felt to be our own is true, there should be no difficulty in under- standing that the acts which cannot be adequately in- terpreted in terms of the individual's capacities and 72 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT experiences should be regarded in a different way from those that can. For the power that is felt in these experiences is the power of the group. Accordingly, it carries the social approval, and is the power that causes the individual to consider the interest and good of the group rather than the concerns that are more nearly an expression of his egotistic desires. If, then, the enthusiasm and noble zeal for the social welfare, or if the intensification of life that results from contact with one's fellows, are the experiences that first aroused wonder and demanded an explanation in terms other than those of the individual's capacities and powers, it should not appear strange that the activities that seem to lie beyond the range of the individual's ca- pacities should be reverently regarded. In fact, we have here, according to Durkheim, the distinction be- tween the sacred and the profane. If these speculations are taken seriously, we can read- ily understand that Plato, marvelling at the political virtues, should regard them as gifts of Zeus, and that moral philosophers, until quite recently, should have held that the individual at birth possesses a store of moral principles or ideas implanted by God. Since these moral principles are irreducible to selfish con- siderations, and since the individual to act in accor- dance with them sacrifices his own interest, if need be, they demand our respect, and they must be assigned a source other than in the selfish desires and interests of the individual. Thus there is a genuine basis in reality for ascribing HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 73 to the activities that seem to He beyond the individual's capacities and experiences an approval all their own. As long as they were regarded as due to impressions or habits infused by God, one did not go far wrong; for as such they were born of the social consciousness, and for the most part were reflections of the best moral tone of the age. The same cannot be said of instincts when used to take the place of impressions of God to account for a certain class of our activities. Nevertheless, instincts have inherited a considerable share of the approval that formerly went with the interpretation of behavior in terms of ancestral or Divine interposition. Yet, as far as social conceptions and consequences are con- cerned, this use of instinct has effects that are quite the reverse of the effects that followed from the use of the discarded theories. The conceptions that have been abandoned exalted the social; for an impression from God had to show a certain label. Otherwise it was re- garded as an impression from the devil. And, as has been said, they were us\ially the expression of the best moral consciousness of the age. The present use of instincts, on the other hand, exalts the incommu- nicable, the personal, the individual. For the chief mark of the instinctive is its deep-seatedness and per- sistence. To look to them for guidance, therefore, tends to lend justification to the satisfaction of the egoistic desires rather than to encourage the expres- sion of the social virtues of man. In the beginning the social virtues of man excited 74 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT his admiration and demanded an explanation. In time they came to be associated with instincts, with innate moral ideas implanted by God. The interpre- tations tended to exalt instinct and to give it a certain sanction and weight, and, in spite of the fact that the use of instinct has given rise to quite diflferent effects from those it gave rise to in the beginning, it con- tinues to enjoy the sanction thrown around it when it was associated primarily with the social virtues. The sanction of instinct need not, however, be re- garded as resting on speculations of this nature. The history of its use shows clearly many reasons for its strong appeal. The love of man for the mysterious, the desire to protect his moral worth against naturalistic interpretations, provides instinct with a great appeal. Not only is the moral worth of man safeguarded in this way, but the use of instinct, an unknown, an in- scrutable, provides a safe basis for those feelings of personality which seem violated by analysis. Many seem to feel that personality becomes less valuable, that it becomes less real, if it is broken up into con- cepts, and its secrets exposed to the gaze of the public. Hence, the satisfaction that is found in a mysterious somewhat, an entity which cannot be analyzed but which notwithstanding provides a concept in terms of which behavior may be explained. The conception of instinct has also grown to have a religious significance. When activities cannot be ac- counted for, it is held that they must be due to the HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 75 guidance of God. Hence, instincts were once popularly regarded as evidences of the controlling hand of Deity in all his works. The more diflSculties that could be placed in the way of really understanding behavior, the more room for the guidance of God. Naturally, if in- stincts were regarded as impressions and direction from God, they carried a powerful sanction. What better guideince can one wish than direct guidance from Deity ! In addition to the "pathos" that has thus been thrown around instinct, science has stamped its ap- proval on instincts as guides to conduct. It is true instincts are no longer regarded as impressions from God, but their guidance is none the less sure and trust- worthy for this. They are the forces that have made for good in the lives of our forebears, they are the best that the past has to offer the present, they are the ten- dencies that have proved their worth by their long sur- vival. Consequently, if we follow them, we cannot go far wrong. Thus religion, philosophy, and science have united to throw around instinct a sanction so powerful that at times we are inclined to value an activity as an "expression" of an innate tendency, rather than in terms of its consequences. Or, if we fall short of this extreme position, we are so convinced that the "ex- pression" of an instinct is good that merely the as- sertion that an activity is instinctive gives it a certain standing that goes a long way to sUence all objection. 76 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT There is no wonder, then, that advocates of social programmes should seek the support of this powerful sanction. Nor is there any cause to wonder, in view of the indefiniteness and hidden nature of instinct, that contrary programmes may with a good deal of plau- sibility be defended by an appeal to instinct. Thus both the radical and conservative with equal assurance justify their attitudes and programmes as being in harmony with man's supply of instincts. In the following chapter I shall undertake a discus- sion of instinct as a sanction, and criticise this use, granting the assumptions on which it is based. In the following chapters I shall proceed to an examination of the psychological assumptions that underlie this sanc- tion. Through an examination of the fallacies of these assumptions I hope to remove from ethical discussions the "expression of an instinct" as a criterion for good, and to emphasize the truth that an act is good because of its effects, rather than because it is an "expression" of something or in obedience to a categorical impera- tive. BIBLIOGRAPHY Aquinas, Thomas: Summa, Fart II, £rst part. Bacon, Francis: Advancement of Learning, Book IX. Bergson, Henri: Laughter, 1900. Berkeley, George: Alciphron. Butler, Samuel: Unconscious Memory. Crile, George W.: A Mechanistic View of War and Peace, 1915. Darwin, Charles: The Expression of the Emotions in Man and Animals, 1873. Drever, James: Instinct in Man, 1917. HISTORICAL ORIENTATION 77 Durkheim, fimile: Elementary Forms of the Religious Life, 1912; translated, 1915. Ellwood, Charles A.: The Social Problem, 1919. Frink, H. W.: Morbid Fears and Compulsions, 1918. Garratt, Garrett: Marvels and Mysteries of Instinct, 1856. Hall, G. Stanley: Psychology of Adolescence, 1904. Hancock, Thomas: An Essay on Instinct and Its Physical and Moral Relations, 1824. Harrison, Jane E.: Prolegomena to the Study of Greek Religion, 1903. Hobbes, Thomas: Leviathan. Lewes, G. H. : History of Philosophy. Maudsley, Henry: Organic to Human: Psychological and Soci- ological, 1916. Murry, Gilbert: Four Stages of Greek Religion. M'Taggart, John and Ellis: Human Immortality and Preexistence. McDougall, William: Body and Mind, 191 1; An Introduction to Social Psychology, 1908; in British Journal of Psychology, vol. III. Mclndoo, John M.: Instincts as Related to Education, 1914. Parker, C. H.: The Casual Laborer, 1920. Patrick, G. T. W.: Psychology of Relaxation, 1916. Plato: Meno, Phadrus, Statesman, Protagoras. Spencer, Herbert: Data of Ethics, 1879. Stewart, J. A.: Myths of Plato. Sutherland, Alexander: The Origin and Growth of the Moral In- stinct, 1898. Thorndike, E. L.: Educational Psychology, 1913. Wallas, Graham: Human Nature in PoUtics, 1909; The Great Society, 1914. CHAPTER III mSTINCT AS A SANCTION Moral responsibility is a pain and burden man has in vain sought to escape. Anything seems preferable to the assumption of moral responsibility. In his ef- forts to escape it man has invented many conceptions to lull his social consciousness to sleep. It is this desire that gave rise to the old conception of tribal respon- sibility. The individual could feel himself free — free in the sense of freedom from moral responsibility — since his acts and fate had already been determined by the acts and fate of his family. The same desire is largely responsible for the popularity of fatalism in the Orient. This desire is without doubt one of the great factors that make for the passive satisfaction and ease that go with the rigors of army discipline. The most rigid determinism seems preferable to the assumption of responsibility. This desire to escape responsibility has also led man to invoke sanctions of various sorts. If he can only find something that will determine once for all what he should do in order to shift the responsibility of his acts to "sanctions," "categorical imperatives," or "moral principles," he will have relieved himself from a great 78 INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 79 load. It is so much easier to act in this way than to discover what is good.* The desire of man to discover sanctions or unques- tioned values and to act in accordance with them is not without advantages. Perhaps most of us act in a nobler way when we act in accordance with these values than when we try to determine the value of an act for ourselves; for "categorical imperatives" are usually the pronouncements of the best moral con- sciousness of the age. When one acts in accordance with them, he acts usually in accordance with the best principles of conduct that society has discovered. "Categorical imperatives," sanctions, or unques- tioned values not only have this advantage. In ad- dition they save man the unbearable burden of forever deciding issues as they arise. Life would be needlessly complex and difficult if each issue had to be decided as it arose. "Moral principles," therefore, not only make for a high moral tone in our activities, but they aid us greatly in simplifying life's problems. While this is true, "categorical imperatives" are full of dangers. In this they share a characteristic that is common to all commands that come to us from a hid- *The tendency to place responsibility on some sanction or ethical concept finds an excellent illustration in the present use that is made of "democracy." "Democracy" is rapidly becoming a value that is not to be questioned. Since the above was written we have had furnished us a dear example of this in the speech of President Harding at Birming- ham on the race question. The general attitude of that speech seems to have been: We must preserve our democracy regardless of conse- quences. Democracy has come to be such a treasured possession that all other values are sacrificed to it if need be. 80 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT den source, and that are obeyed irrespective of the consequences involved. It is in obedience to such com- mands that many of the worst crimes are perpetrated. In obedience to such commands nations have set out to extend their religion or culture to all the others, and have left in the wake of their armies only horror and desolation. It is in obedience to such commands that nations resent to the last man a slur on their "honor." It is in obedience to such commands that the "re- spectable" members of a community draw their clothes tightly around them as they pass the unfor- tunates who have committed a breach of their im- mutable law. In these ways "categorical imperatives" have made for chauvinism, bigotry, narrowness, and lack of sjmi- pathy. They give such an assurance to one, regarding the rightness and justness of his acts, that it is hard for him to evaluate his activities in terms other than in those of a fulfilment of the supposed law. It thus hap- pens that the development of the moral consciousness of an age is often hindered by premature crystalliza- tions into immutable laws. One, therefore, should be very careful of all "categorical imperatives" and should use them with a considerable degree of caution. In view of this great desire to escape moral respon- sibility by shifting it to moral principles and sanctions of various sorts, it is not surprising that the powerful sanction given instincts by common usage, religion, philosophy, and science should be used as a moral prin- INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 81 ciple to determine right and wrong. This use of in- stinct as a sanction shares in the evils that have been pointed out regarding the use of sanctions in general in so far as we tend to justify a course of behavior be- cause it is instinctive, or an institution because it is regarded as rooted in or moulded by instinct, rather than in terms of the effect of the activity or institu- tion. In many respects, however, the use of instinct as a sanction gives rise to effects quite different from the effects that follow from the use of categorical impera- tives. Categorical imperatives, as the products of re- flection, are clear cut; and can be understood by all who will listen. Consequently, they make for defi- niteness and even narrowness in one's judgments. With instincts it is the reverse. Instincts are indefi- nite. There is no clear definition of the instinctive, much less is there clear Understanding of what instincts would have. They are usually identified with the deep-seated, and are regarded as the sources of those activities that are the expressions of our real per- sonality. They therefore exalt the personal and the incommunicable. As a consequence, they make sanc- tions too personal and indefinite to afford the common ground necessary for the building of a harmonious body of social practices and ideals. This is admirably illustrated by the opposite justifi- cations the radical and the conservative get from this use of instinct. The conservative sees in instinct the 82 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT justification of the existing order: the radical, a call to battle for the reconstruction of society. This should not be surprising in view of the hidden nature of instinct. Since there is no definite criterion of the instinctive, and since instincts are supposed to be the deep-ljdng motive forces that form the basis of one's real personality, we should expect that this use of instinct should turn out to be more a justification to one's prepossessions than a guide to new ideas and conceptions. Hence, the conservatives satisfied with existing in- stitutions and customs regard them as expressions of instincts; for they are in answer to the cherished values and purposes of the conservative. Since existing in- stitutions are what they have found of value and satis- factory, they hold the institutions are what human nature has found satisfactory. They are thus inclined to close their eyes to obvious evils in them; for they are willing to admit that the existing order is not per- fect, but they insist that it is better than it would be if we dared to change it for an order less natural to human nature. Hence, they reject all innovations as contrary to human nature, and as likely to produce greater evils than those that are produced by the ex- isting order, which is so clearly rooted in man's orig- inal nature. With this confidence of the conservatives that in- stitutions are rooted in original nature, there goes a supercilious toleration of reformers, and a calm as- INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 83 surance that their cherished institutions are assured perpetuation since they are rooted in original nature, safe and secure against any attack of the agitator. If one wishes to find an illustration of this he need but engage a small group of intellectuals in a discussion of the vital questions of to-day. If a radical change is suggested, there is sure to be some one in the group to pity the one making the suggestion for his ignorance of human nature, and to attempt to rule out the sug- gestion as counter to human nature. If this person happens to be inclined toward conservatism, he will at the same time prove conclusively to himself that the existing order wiU continue to exist — since human na- ture does not change. In so far as this attitude rests on the assumption that our institutions are rooted and grounded in hu- man nature, it is possible to invoke in its support the views of men whose opinions carry considerable weight. McDougall is a vigorous champion of this position. Indeed, McDougall does not hesitate to claim that aU the complex mental life of society is determined and shaped by man's native equipment of instincts and capacities.* In line with this, he tells us that we may be quite sure that in a nation of long-settled popula- tion the customs and institutions will be a reflection of the innate tendencies of the people, for the innate char- acters of a people, so situated, may be regarded as exerting a selective influence on all cultural modifica- * Social Psychology, 18-44, 84 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT tions and variations which have taken place. The variations that were distasteful were eliminated, while those that were pleasing were favored and were al- lowed to evolve further. As a result of this process of cultural variation - and selection by the innate char- acters of the race, the institutions at last come to rep- resent to a great extent the innate tendencies of the population.* The authority of Thorndike may likewise be in- voked in support of the thesis that institutions and customs are rooted in our original nature. According to Thorndike, "The behavior of man in the family, in business, in the state, in religion, and in every other affair of life is rooted in his unlearned original equip- ment of instincts and capacities." | "Human inter- course and institutions are as surely rooted and grounded in original nature as man's struggle with the rest of nature for food and safety." J Marshall is perhaps of all writers the most firmly * The Group Mind, 157. McDougall's conception here is quite similar to that of Sumner's regarding the natural selection of customs and taboos: "It is never correct to regard any one of the taboos as an arbitrary inven- tion or burden laid on society by tradition without necessity. Very many of them are due originally to vanity, superstition, or primitive magic, wholly or in part, but they have been sifted for centuries by experience, and tiose which we have received and accepted are such as experience has proved to be expedient." (Sumner, Folkways, Par. 440.) Both con- ceptions must carry comfort to the conservatives. t Educational Psychology, vol. I, 4. t Ibid., 181. It should be pointed out that, in the first statement, Thorndike probably means little more than to emphasize the fact that whatever a man does his behavior will be the result of his innate charac- ters and training, and that as a consequence whatever we wish to do to INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 85 convinced that our institutions and customs are re- flections of our innate tendencies. According to him men naturally and automatically obey laws against murder, adultery, and theft. "It is clear, then," he writes, "that these ethical impulses against lying, theft, murder, and adultery are of instinctive origin, although they are of late origin and have arisen only co-ordinately with the advance of higher civiliza- tion."* There are even instincts of patriotism and for a monogamous marital life. Yet in spite of the in- stinctive foundations for our moral and ethical at- titudes, he tells us that some writers have found it easy to make men believe they act as they do from motives of self-interest. For this reason it is difficult to show men that "the laws they follow would not exist did they not fit in with the social impulses of instinc- tive origin." f If our institutions, customs, moral ideas, and culture in general are in answer to innate tendencies and de- sires, they may well be regarded as amply justified. For what further justification can we wish for them than that they answer to human desires and needs? After all, that is their purpose. They are to serve human needs, and what serves them is, at least from the society or the individual should be done with reference to origmal nature. It is the point of view of the present essay that in view of the great varietj* of cultures there is little advantage in rooting them in original nature. Since, however, the behavior of man is profoundly modified and deter- mined by the institutions and customs of his group, it follows there is no great advantage in rooting the individual's behavior in his original nature. * Instinct and Reason, 150. t IWd., 172. 86 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT human point of view, satisfactory; for we as human beings can have only human likes and dislikes. Nor should we wish our morals and customs to be otherwise. They should be in answer to our needs — just as the morals and customs of a lion should be in answer to the needs and desires of a lion. In so far as it is held that institutions and customs should express our innate tendencies, the reformer or radical agrees with the above, He takes exception, however, to the statement that institutions are so rooted. In fact, instead of regarding them as an ex- pression of our innate tendencies, he regards them as repressions of them. It is on account of these repres- sions that social evils exist and the individual is denied the full development that is his by right. As an anti- dote to these evils, he urges a full release of the in- stinctive energies of man, and a working over of our social organization so that this may become possible. The radical has no difficulty in making a very plau- sible protest against existing culture as being ill adapted to our supply of innate characters. In fact, the same argument which shows the relevance of instincts for ethics may be used to show that man is not adapted to existing culture. The conclusion of the radical seems the natural one to draw from the argument. This argument, it is to be remembered, rests on the assumption that man inherits, as the result of long periods spent in subhuman stages of development and in states of savagery, a number of instincts, and it holds that as a result of this long process of adapta- INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 87 tion (whether brought about by the direct adaptation of the species to its environment or by the selective influence of the environment on the spontaneous varia- tions within the heredity chromatin) the instincts of man have at last been limited to those characters that are adapted to the conditions of living in which he has spent practically his whole career. The environment of man has undergone profound changes during the last hundred years or so. Civiliza- tion is still young. As a result of the rapid change in culture, man finds himself with a culture that is far removed from the instincts that proved their fitness for survival in an environment extremely different from that in which they are expected to function. Since, however, it is not possible for us to change our instiacts, it is urged that our institutions must be changed in order to suit our stock of innate and in- herited impulses. If our instincts are regarded as adaptations, or as adapted, to a life of savagery, it is not surprising that grave fears should be expressed regarding the fitness of human nature for civilization.* It is also easy to see * "What is known of the earlier phases of culture in the life history of existing races and peoples goes to say that the initial phase in the life of any given social type, the phase of culture which prevailed in its environment when it emerged, and under which the stock first proved its fitness to survive, was presumably some form of savagery. There- tore the fitness of any given type of himian nature for life after the man- ner and imder the conditions imposed by any later phase in the growth of culture is a matter of less and less secure presumption the further the sequence of institutional change has departed from the form of savagery which marked the initial state of life history of the given racial stock." (Veblen, Instinct of Worhmanship, 19-20.) 88 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT that, since instincts are supposed to be forces and guides that have made for good in the lives of our ances- tors, the evils of the present society should be regarded as due to the thwarting and repression of instincts. Accordingly it is urged that we should allow our in- stincts to function naturally* Above all things, it is held that the thwarting or re- pression of them must be prevented.f The creative energies of man must be released. If this is done, hu- man nature may be trusted to express itself in the ways that will be most satisfactory to the human race. This attitude finds an excellent illustration in Parker, who holds that man inherits all his motives and de- sires. "Man is born into this world accompanied by a rich psychical disposition, which furnishes him ready- made all his motives for conduct, all his desires eco- nomic or wasteful, moral and depraved, crass or assthetic. He can show a demand for nothing that is not prompted by this galaxy of instincts." % In spite of the claim that all motives are furnished by instincts "ready-made," he does not hesitate to claim that all instincts have value no matter how un- reasoning and irrational they may appear to us — for they are the modes of conduct that have made for good in the lives of our ancestors.§ * See Russell, Principles of Social Reconstruction, and Parker, The Casual Laborer. t See Laski, The Pluralistic State, Philosophical Review, igig,, aad FoUette, Community as a Process, Philosophical Review, igig. t The Casual Laborer, 133. § Ibid., 135, INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 89 He admits that at times it may be necessary to re- press one of these instinct motives. This, however, is highly unfortunate, as it is sure to entail a loss some- where. In fact, we may infer from his writings that the repression has become necessary as a result of the corrupting influence of society. It is as a result of the injustices and thwarting influence of society that men act criminally.* It is when society attempts to baUc the expression of the instinctive tendencies that there is aroused in man an unreasoning revolt, which upturns if possible the restrictions.! How seriously he regards the evils of repression and the consequent revolt may be seen in the following: "The instincts and their emotions coupled with an obedient body lay down in scientific and exact descrip- tion the motives ■v^hich must and will determine human conduct. If a physical environment sets itself against the expression of these instinct motives, the human organism is fully and efficiently prepared for a tena- cious and destructive revolt against the environment, and if this antagonism persist, the organism is ready to destroy itself and disappear as a species if it fails of a psychical mutation, which would make the perverted order endurable." Quite similar views are expressed by Wallas. Ac- cording to Wallas man suffers from a state of "balked" disposition, because the impulses, inherited from a * Ibid., 95. t Ibid; iS9- 90 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT previous stage of culture, are not adequately stimulated. For example, in savagery there was an abundance of fear-exciting stimuli. In modern society there are few. Consequently, man suffers from a store of pent- up fear impulse, which should be released. As a re- sult man has to invent many situations in order that this state of "balked" disposition may be relieved. Hence, the popularity of the aerial railways, which serve as an admirable release for the expression of the fear impulse.* Another illustration of "balked" disposition. Wallas thinks, is afforded in the unsatisfactory condition of children in charity schools. Children so reared are denied the gratification of the instinct for property. As a consequence of this thwarting of an instinct, the children suffer from bad health and character. To im- prove these, one need but allow the children to own trinkets of various sorts. But if this is not done we may be sure the ill effects that arise from a state of "balked" disposition will continue.f Taking this a step further, Hocking bases the right of society to exist on the assumption that its existence is necessary for the fuU development of the instinct of the will to power. Putting this in Wallas's language: Without society the instinct of will to power could not be satisfied. Consequently, states of "balked" dis- position would arise. Therefore society has a right to exist. Thus society is endowed with the right to exist * The Great Society, 89. t Burmn Nature in Politics, 36. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 91 because it acts as a suitable stimulus to bring about the complete development of the individual.* To such an extent has been the group opposed to its members ! The foregoing attitudes seem to be based on the fol- lowing assumptions: (i) The evils of society are largely due to the repres- sions that are practised. (2) If instincts were allowed to function nakirally most evils would be eliminated. (3) The maximum developrhent of one's innate ca- pacities and tendencies is desirable. I wish to examine these assumptions in the order given. On account of our romantic conceptions regarding original nature, repression has come to have an ugly sound. When an impulse is repressed we are inclined to believe that stubborn and blind society is blocking the expression of a tendency that would be of great worth if allowed to function naturally. On the other hand, if it is not allowed this expression, we are taught to believe that it becomes a hidden evil, which works its harm and destruction in the dark. It does not seem to occur to many of us that the re- pressions of innate impulses may be necessary on ac- count of the evil nature of the impulse — so convinced are we that the evil is due to the repression. Perhaps Freud has done as much as any one to make us realize the evils of repressions. Yet he clearly * Human Nature in Its Remaking, 208. 92 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT recognizes the necessity of them for the moral life, and those who are inclined to charge all our evils to re- pressions would do well to ponder the following state- ment by him : "Whenever the community suspends its reproach, the suppression of evil desires also ceases, and men commit acts of cruelty, treachery, deception, and brutality, the very possibility of which would have been considered incompatible with their level of cul- ture." * It is because we did not recognize the social nature of the moral, and the r61e that the repressions of soci- ety plays in maintaining the moral life of the com- munity, he says, that we became so shocked at the deeds of soldiers. We felt that the soldiers had degen- erated, that they had fallen, when as a matter of fact they acted as they did only because they were en- couraged "to withdraw for a time from the existing pressure of civilization and to sanction a passing grati- fication of their suppressed impulses." f Parker acknowledges a debt of gratitude to Freud for his insight into the labor unrest among the I. W. W.'s. He makes a similar acknowledgment re- garding the works of Thorndike. Yet he does not seem to have been affected in the least by the warnings of these writers against his romantic conception of hu- man nature. The warning of Freud has already been indicated. That of Thorndike is equally as strong. * ReflecHons on War and Peace, 15. t Ibid., 29. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 93 Thorndike does not hesitate to state that some in- nate impulses should be crushed and if possible elim- inated, for some innate characters are good and some are evil. Sufficient proof of this statement he thinks is to be found in the fact that original nature includes such tendencies as maternal love, curiosity, and cruelty.* When one thinks of the great variety in the ten- dencies in original nature, the tendency on the part of young children to torture young animals, to tease each other, the cruel impulses in adults, the impulses to lie, steal, and kill, one should not hesitate to con- clude that the repressions are practised on account of the evil nature of innate impulses rather than evil being the result of the repressions. If aU our impulses were good, there would be no greater attempt to sup- press them than there is now to suppress maternal love. It is only because some impulses are evil that society practises repressions. We should not be too hasty to conclude from this that repressions are invariably the repressions of evil instincts. It is quite possible that some instincts are repressed which should not be, and that others are repressed in unwise ways. On the other hand, it is certain that, if all impulses were allowed full freedom, the resulting evils would be many times greater than those that are caused by repressions. It is, however, the claim of those who put great em- * Educational Psychology, vol. I, 271. 94 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT phasis on the evils of repressions that evil results, even though we may not be able to detect it, and that the need of the expression of innate tendencies is real, even though the expression may appear irrational and even harmful. The fact that the tendencies are prod- ucts of evolution is sufficient proof of their value. If we are unable to detect their value, this is not to be taken as an indication of the fact that they are of no value, but rather as an indication of the fact that our knowledge is limited and powers of perception dull. So believers in a Universe ordered by a Transcendental power making for good have always held. We may well be unable to pierce the veils of mystery and see the good behind phenomena that appear to us evil, but we may be quite sure that the good is discover- able if we could only see through the mystery. This is the attitude of the evolutionist, who seems to think that the operation of the law of the "survival of the fit" has been so perfect that all the unfit have been eliminated. It is from such assumptions that instincts get a powerful sanction. But such assump- tions should not be accepted uncritically. Nature does not seem so economical in her works as to make all her modifications and products of use. It seems true rather that she makes millions of products for the mere love of creation, and far from it being true that only the useful survive, all tend to survive unless driven to the wall by competition or by an insurmount- able obstacle. Of what use is the tendency or instinct INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 95 of certain ants to rear the larvae of beetles, in spite of the fact that the beetles eat the young ants, or the tendency of the moth to fly into the flame and to death ? We cannot infer therefore that a tendency or im- pulse is good because it has survived. Of what use are the paroxysms of fear which we experience when confronted suddenly with an overwhelming danger? They serve only to inhibit effective response to the situation. Yet they have survived. AU we can infer, then, from the fact of survival is that the survivors have not been loaded too heavily with harmful ten- dencies, that they have not been confronted with com- petition too severe or obstacles which proved insur- mountable. AU we can say regarding a tendency, on the basis of survival, is that it was not sufficiently harmful to bring about the destruction of the species. Let no one urge, therefore, that since the tendencies have survived they are useful.* Such considerations as these, however, have little * J. B. Watson gives an excellent criticism of the views here criticised. He writes: "With the discovery on the one hand that Darwinian fluctua- tions are not inherited, and on the other that new characters appear sud- denly, due possibly to the direct action of the environment upon the germ cells, there has come about necessarily a marked change in our conception of the function of natural selection. In the first place, the mutation hypothesis has relieved the investigator of the burden of attempting to find adaptative value in the various activities of animals, and has allowed him to examine his behavior without preconceived notions. It is now admitted that adaptation, the fitness of the organism for the conditions of life, is by no means so perfect as has been supposed; more and more characters, studied in natural smroundings, are found to be quite in- different, to offer no discoverable advantage to the organism possessing 96 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT weight with the romanticist. If the expression of in- nate tendencies result in evil, it is because they have been placed in an artificial environment, and prevented from expressing themselves naturally. If we would permit them to function naturally, then the good for which they exist would become apparent.* It is therefore urged that the instincts be given an oppor- tunity to function naturally: The difl&culty here is that there is no clear definition of the natural. Some seem to mean by it the primitive adaptations of the organism, that is, the adaptations of the organism to primitive conditions of living. Others seem to mean by it the needs and desires which are most intimately related to our bodies. By others it is regarded as the fundamental. Still others seem to regard the natural expression as the undirected re- sponse — a laissez-faire attitude. Though there may be this lack of agreement regard- them. What does it matter whether the snail's shell is twisted to the right or to the left; whether the pigment of the elytra of the beetle be arranged in continuous or broken lines; whether the young noddy is gray or white ? The answer of the extreme selectionist has always been: 'I do not know the value of the character, but it must have worth. Otherwise it could not exist.' But the discovery that in the species of butterflies two distinct types of females, widely diEEerent in color, may live side by side, each breeding true in Mendelian ratios, quickly raises the question whether the coloration of these insects has any protective or selective value. Such cases of seemingly indifiEerent characters might be multiplied indefinitely." (Watson, Behavior, 167-168.) * This is not a valid conclusion, for it does not follow that since evil results from one mode of expression that good will follow from another. This conclusion would not be warranted if there were only two modes. It is all the less warranted on account of the mmierous ways an instinct may function. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 97 ing the meaning of the natural, there is general agree- ment among this group of writers that the evils of our society are due to the artificial setting of our instincts; and that in order to remedy the evils we must provide a more natural setting for them. That such programmes sufifer from indefiniteness should be apparent from a consideration of the lack of agreement regarding the natural* The tendency to identify the natural with the primitive is seen in many of the writers referred to in the above. It is the assumption that Wallas makes when he states that the instincts are related in- telligibly to the conditions that confronted our re- mote ancestors. It is the assumption that Veblen makes when he expresses fear of the fitness of present institutions, since man is naturally adapted to a state of savagery. The tendency to identify the natural with the primi- tive finds expression in Hall's attitude toward what he terms the artificiality of manhood and the naturalness of youth. One can almost hear in the following a "back to nature" plea — or at least the stuff out of which such pleas are made: * "When traditional custom or constituted authority comes to be un- satisfactory to certain more reflective minds, there arises a discrepancy between it and wliat seem to be the natural instincts or feelings of the individual, a discrepancy between law and conscience; and so, as we have seen, reformers try to go back to an authority more venerable than parliaments and kings; more venerable even than immemo ial usage; they 'appeal from tyranny to God,' from the mere custom of the multi- tude to the feelings that nature has implanted in the breast of each of us. The unfortunate thing is that these instinctive feelings differ so much in different persons." (Ritchie, Nalural Rights, 85.) 98 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT " Our sentiments are oversubtilized and sophisticated and reduced to puny reactions to music and appreci- ation of art, that are nine parts of criticism and one part of appreciation. What we have felt is second- hand, bookish, shop-worn, and the heart is parched and bankrupt." "Happily for our craft, the child and youth appear at the truly psychological moment, freighted, as they are, body and soul with reminis- cences of what we were so fast losing. . . . Despite our lessening fecundity, our overschooling, 'city- fiction,' and spoiling, the affectations we instil and the repressions we practise, they are still the light and hope of the world especially to us, who would know more of the soul of man and would penetrate to its deeper strata and study its origins." * It would seem, then, from the above views that man is better adapted to primitive life, that is, to a life of savagery, than to our own. What we should do, then, is to modify our culture in such ways that it will pro- vide once more the environment to which our instincts adjusted themselves in the remote past. We should not settle this question by a priori reasoning. For on the one hand there are the reasons just stated. On the other hand, it seems unreasonable to suppose that man is better adapted to a culture which he leaves than to one which he has created. The fact that he abandons one way of living for another should be evidence that the preferred way is a way that answers more com- pletely his needs and desires. * Psychology of Adolescence, vol. II, 59, 60. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 99 An examination of primitive culture lends weight to the latter supposition. We should not let the roman- ticism of those who plead in various ways for a "back to nature" lead us to regard the life of man in primi- tive culture as ideal. There is a popular fancy which pictures the life of primitive man as free from re- straints. In a sense he is free from many of the re- straints that bind us. His limited feelings of personal- ity find adequate expression in the customs of his tribe. His interests are limited to his group. He has no feeling of humanity.* Naturally, then, he is spared many of the moral conflicts and feelings of restraint that we experience. We should not conclude, however, that the lack of moral conflicts or restraints is due to the perfection of primitive man or to the perfection of his environment and adjustments. We need to guard ourselves against this, for there is always a tendency to regard the absence of moral restraint as evidence of moral perfection. It is thus that the modern Shin- toist concludes that the first inhabitants of the world were pure and holy because they are represented as a people who had no moral commandments. Absence of moral restraint is not necessarily an in- dication of moral perfection or of an ideal adjustment. * "Neither primitive nor totemic man shows the faintest trace of what we should strictly speaking call humanity. He gives evidence merely of attachment to the nearest associates, of horde or tribe, such as is foreshadowed even among animals of social habits. In addition, he exhibits a friendly readiness to render assistance when danger threat- ens at the hands of strangers." (Wundt, Elements of Folk Psychology, 471.) 100 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT It may as well be an indication of the absence of moral feelings. This is probably most often the case. No- where do we find such a complete absence of moral restraint as among the non-gregarious animals; yet no one would maintain that the moral life of a tiger is better suited to the needs of man than the moral life of man. Also, the lack of moral conflicts in man may often be due to the fact that he has not reached a stage of culture in which his good is identified with the good of the group. It is beyond doubt often due to the fact that the environment, both social and phys- ical, in which he is placed presents so few possibilities for varied action that the necessary material for con- flicts, that is, the balancing of one good against an- other, is not provided. Primitive man may, then, for various reasons be free from feelings of moral restraint and from moral conflicts, and yet be none the better for the freedom. But, however much one may be inclined to value this freedom, it is more than offset in primitive culture by superstitious fears which make necessary suffering and tortures of all kinds. These fears seem to indicate that after all the primitive is not perfectly adapted or adjusted to his environment. If he were, why should he feel the necessity of subjecting youth to the cruel rites of initiation? Or why the cruel piacular rites? Or why do men inflict upon themselves unbelievable tortures? Why also the frequency of suicide? Why the selection of the insane to act as priests, shamans, or medicine-men ? INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 101 The more deeply we penetrate into the life of primi- tive man, the darker and gloomier it becomes. We see there pictures of suffering voluntarily endured that seem beyond the power of man to bear. Yet the suf- ferings they inflict upon themselves, the rites they ob- serve, and their horrif3dng fears of the world of spirits are no doubt the natural responses of human nature when subjected to the conditions in which these phe- nomena take place. But in spite of this these re- sponses seem no less undesirable and disastrous than the natural response of the moth to the flame. It is hard to understand how any one can hold that man is better adapted to a life of savagery than he is to the comforts, plenty, and freedom from fears of evil spirits that obtain in modern culture. Surely no one would have been inclined to think so, had it not been for the conception of instincts as hard-and-fast entities craving for a particular mode of expression or activity. Without such a conception we should have made without hesitation the obvious inference that man with his increase in knowledge and power has made the world more nearly to suit him than it was when he was engaged in a desperate struggle for ex- istence. There is no reason to suppose, then, that the evils of modern society will be eliminated or made less by the natural expression of instincts, if by the natural is meant the primitive. As a matter of fact, there is no reason to suppose that the responses made in our 102 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT culture are less natural than those made by the savage. For instance, what would be less natural than the dis- carding of a gun for a club? Or what could be more unnatural than discarding our training in manners, aesthetic appreciations, and in other preferred ways of living for the manners and tastes of primitive man. Regarded in this way, we see there is no need to worry regarding the artificiality of our culture or to fear that we are leaving behind our instincts. The responses we make are the natural responses man makes when subjected to the conditions of modern life, and there is no reason to suppose that these responses are less natural than the responses man made in a state of savagery. Closely akin to the conception which exalts the primitive as the natural is the conception which exalts the fundamental as the natural. A response or ac- tivity is regarded as good because it is fundamental. The more fundamental the greater the value of the act. This assumption underlies Veblen's criticism of sports. Veblen recognizes that if an activity is a, re- sponse of an instinct it has a good claim to be valued. The life of sports, he admits, meets this requirement, and hence should be valued. Yet he hesitates to do so. He does not fully approve of sports. He bases his disapproval on the ground that they are counter to the more fundamental instinct of workmanship. Hence they cannot be justified. Thus he writes: INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 103 " The ultimate norm to which appeal is taken is the instinct of workmanship, which is an instinct more fundamental, of more ancient prescription, than the propensity to predatory emulation. The latter is but a special development of the instinct of workmanship, a variant relatively late and ephemeral in spite of its absolute antiquity. . . . Tested by this ulterior norm of life, predatoiy emulation, and therefore the life of sport, falls short." * Veblen does not take the trouble to tell us why we should prefer the fundamental and the essential. It is true the instinct of workmanship may be regarded as the necessary condition of survival and therefore of sport itself. In this sense it may weU be held that the instinct of workmanship should carry greater weight than the less essential activity involved in the life of sport. We should not forget, however, that the necessary, in order to be valued, must be valued for something. We do not value it for being necessary or essential. Nor do we value it for being what may be termed a necessary evil. It is only when the necessary is necessary for the realization of something regarded as good that we value it.f Thus when Veblen prizes the instinct of workmanship * Theory of the Leisure Class, 270. t It is because Ernest Jones neglects this that he gives as one of the compensations of war the fact that it brings us nearer the essential realities of life. {Sociological Review, vol. VIII, pages 179, 180.) Yet why should we prefer the realities of existence to the shams. The realities may be of value only because they make a life of sham and convention 104 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT as being of a more fundamental nature than the in- stinct of sportsmanship, and condemns the instinct of .sportsmanship because it is less fundamental, he may be condemning the activities for which the activities due to the instinct of workmanship are valued. Apart from the life of sports the life of work may be of no value. It may well be that it is only because of the life of sport that life is of value. Consequently, the instinct of workmanship, the fundamental, the essen- tial, may be a mere means for the life of sports, and without value in its own right. Trotter only carries further the tendency to prize the fundamental and necessary more highly than the less fundamental and unnecessary when he rejects the human point of view for the more fundamental point of view of biology. Indeed, he severely criticises Freud for assuming the human point of view and seems to think that Freud's conclusions are invalidated by this assumption — as if Freud should treat human beings from the point of view of the ox or cow. "However much one may be impressed," Trotter says, "with the greatness of the edifice which Freud has built up by the soundness of his architecture, one may scarcely fail, on coming into it from the bracing atmosphere of the biological sciences, to be oppressed by the odor of humanity." "One finds everywhere a tendency to the acceptance of human standards, and even sometimes to human pretensions, which cannot fail to produce a certain uneasiness as to the validity, INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 105 if not of his doctrines, at any rate of the forms in which they are expounded." * Perhaps Trotter wishes to suggest to Freud that he treat his patients, not as men, but as members of the more fundamental group of primates. To do so would be no more absurd than the moral lessons that are drawn for us from the animal world. Yet writers are not lacking who do this. In fact, Hall states explic- itly "that true types of character can be determined only by studjang the animal world." f It would seem from' these writers that we should abandon the human point of view and that we should look for our values and ethical guidance in the ten- dencies and characters that are common to all life. The more wide-spread, the more fundamental the tendency, the greater is its value, and the more to be prized. It is doubtful, however, if it is really possible for us to discard the human point of view in this way. After all, we are human beings and we must value those things which human beings value. Our plea- sures and pains are the pleasures and pains of human beings. It is hardly possible that the "bracing atmos- * Instinct of the Head in Peace and War, 77, 78. t Psychology of Adolescence, vol. II, 60. Maeterlinck is more explicit than Hall in his claims regajding the animal types that we carry within us. He is not so convinced, however, that we can get ethical guidance from the fact. On the contrary, he sounds a warning. Thus he writes: "No matter what monsters have defiled or terrified the surface of the globe, we bear them within us. . . . We nourish all their types; they are only awaiting an opportunity to escape from us, to reappear, to recon- stitute themselves, to develop, and to plunge us once again into terror." (Hearst's Magazine, March, 1920.) 106 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT phere of biology" can make us feel "oppressed with the odor of humanity." We cannot have the desires and needs of a bear or lion; nor can we hope to find in observations of their behavior the basis for our moral code. What are good morals for the lion are not good morals for man.* There is no reason, therefore, that we should prefer the natural in the sense of the more fundamental or essential. It may be necessary that man act in cer- tain ways in order that he may act in other ways. But this is very different from saying that the fundamental is of greater value. Nor can we infer that a character is of more value or furnishes us a guide for ethics be- cause it is found in a large number of species. For, as has been pointed out, our values are necessarily the values of human beings, and our morals the morals of human beings. Our ethics must, therefore, be based on human needs, desires, and ideals rather than on the codes of conduct of the animal world. The fundamental is not only identified with the necessary conditions and with characters that are com- mon to a large number of species. It is at times iden- tified with the wants, impulses, and desires which fol- low most closely the lines laid down by physical * Moore makes an interesting criticism of the advice to look to the animal world for moral guidance. "Curious advice certainly, but of course there may be something to it. I am not here concerned to in- quire under what circumstances some of us might take lessons from the cow. I have really no doubt that such exist." (Moore, Prindpia Ethica, 44.) INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 107 structure and needs. The wants that are born of bodily needs are regarded as more fundamental than those that are born of social contacts. This seems to be the criterion Parker has in mind when he says that the "instincts coupled with an obedient body lay down in scientific and exact description the motives which must and will determine human conduct." Hence, to avoid the evils of repression and to insure the good that comes from the natural expression of instincts, we must study physical needs and structure. This seems marvellously simple. But does the con- templation of the structure and needs of the body give us definite information as to how instincts should function? Do they "lay down in scientific and exact description the motives which should determine hu- man conduct"? The answer must be in the nega- tive. The "body and its needs tell us very little. To be sure, there are physiological processes which must be cared for. We must take food, and we may take it for granted that the organs should be used. But how shall they be used? And how much? These are the important questions, and regarding them the structure of the body and its emotions tell us Uttle. Even less do they tell us regarding the value and func- tion of the impulses not born of physical needs, that is, of the impulses that are bom of social contacts. How impulses of this nature shall be expressed the emotions and structure of the body have nothing to say. Nor can we infer that such emotions as fear. 108 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT anger, and the affections, that follow from bodily needs, are of greater value than the emotions of pa- triotism and loyalty, or the sentiments that cover lofty ideals. There is no reason, therefore, to suppose that the natural in the sense of being those activities and values that result most directly from bodily needs furnishes us with a key to values or a guide to behavior; for in the first place it is not definite, and in the sec- ond place values other than those that are indicated may prove to be of greater value than those that are.* There is yet another conception of the natural that is exerting a profound influence in our social theories and practices. I refer to the laissez-faire attitude re- garding the expression of the instincts and impulses, which seems to assume that any employment of in- telligent control of behavior or of social movements is unnatural. We, especially our intellects, need do noth- ing. To get the best results, we need simply give our instincts fuU opportunity to work out their own sal- vation and that of the race. Given such freedom, social progress, it is held, is sure to result. Bergson's treatment of the intellect and instinct furnishes the philosophic background on which these conceptions are based. One very noticeable characteristic of Bergson's writings is his disparaging attitude toward the intel- lect and his exalting of intuition. The intellect, he * Cf. Sidgwick, Methods of Ethics, chap. VI. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 109 tells us, falsifies through its efforts to spatialize the non-spatial. To the cumbersome attempts of the in- tellect to predict — ^to peep into the future — ^Bergson opposes the marvellous insights of intuition, or disin- terested instinct. He is greatly impressed with the activities of certain insects, which seem to him the un- impeded manifestations of the Elan Vital. He, there- fore, urges that we put no longer our trust in the in- tellect which falsifies, but to look at life intuitively in order to see it as it really is. The .same contrast that Bergson makes between the intellect and instinct has been made by Pope in verse: "Say, where full instinct is th' unerring guide, What Pope or Council can they need beside? Reason, however able, cool at best Cares not for service, or but serves when prest, Stays 'til we call, and then not often near; But honest instinct comes a volunteer, Sure never to o'er-shoot, but just to hit: While still too wide or short is human wit; Sure by quick nature happiness to gain. Which heavier reason labors in vain, This too serves always, reason never long; One must go right, tiie other may go wrong. See then the acting and comparing powers, One is then nature, which are two in ours And reason raised o'er instinct as you can, In this 'tis God directs, in that 'tis man!" What we need, it may be inferred from Bergson's vmtings, as from the above poem, is to give ourselves up to the direction of instinct with the assurance that in so doing we wfll realize ends and obtain knowledge 110 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT that are beyond the reach of the cumbersome and laborious intellectual processes. I do not say that Bergson advocates this, or even that this is a just inference to draw from his writings as a whole. He does not fail to set forth certain ad- vantages of the intellect, which, after aU, he recognizes to be our instrument of knowledge, however unfor- tunate we may be in having such an instrument. It is, however, possible to draw the above conclusions from his writings. They may be regarded as following from his attack on the intellect in Time and Free Will and later in Creative Evolution. They also follow from his exalting as free those acts which spring from the wells of our personality undetermined by conscious ends.* They may be drawn from his genuine admira- tion of the working of instinct and emphasis on intui- tion in Creative Evolution and in ^« Introduction to Metaphysics. That these consequences may be drawn from Berg- son's writings is evinced by the fact that they are drawn by the French Syndicalists, who find in Berg- son's philosophy a justification of their own attitude toward intelligent control and prediction. Scott, who treats at some length the connection between Bergson's philosophy and the S3aidicalist movement,! represents the mission of Sorel, the leader of the Syndicalists, as follows: "The mission of Sorel, as he himself has conceived * Time and Free Will. t Syndicalism and Philosophical Realism. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 111 it, appears to be, not to tell the working classes about the new regime they are to prepare; not to tell them what it is to be and how it is all to come; but to tell them just what it wiU not be, if they plan it, and to warn them not to have to do with the intellectual bourgeoisie who profess to plan it for them. Mr. Ramsey MacDonald did not overstate the case, when he said in 191 2, six years after the appearance of Re- flections on Violence: 'Sorel says quite candidly, "I cannot tell you what is going to happen, I am mainly interested in getting action." The reformist syndical- ist says, 'act wisely'; the syndicalist revolutionary of which Sorel is the teacher and philosopher, and above all the poet, says, 'Do not bother about the adverb, be quite sure of the verb; you need not necessarily act wisely, but in the name of everything you hold good and dear, act.' " The Syndicalist seems to feel that if he can only get activity, if he can get the masses to break through the mass of customs, traditions, and institutions that are preventing the natural and complete expression of instincts, the people equipped with their instincts and intuitions will be able to adjust themselves to the new conditions — ^just as if instincts were mystical guides existing complete in the souls of each of us. It is not surprising, then, that the Syndicalists should see iu Bergson's disparaging attitude toward the in- tellect a justification of their own. They have no need for programmes. Their contempt for the peeping of 112 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT intelligence into the future and for the falsifications of conceptual knowledge is as great as Bergson's. They too wish to let themselves freely move on the onward rush of the Elan Vital. They do not care to found their movement on a study of consequences likely to follow from its success. Indeed, it is just this study they hold which has been responsible for the failure of re- form movements in the past. Action is the need of the hour. If that can be secured the instincts of the masses may be trusted to take care of the future. This supreme confidence in instincts to guide the individual is not limited to those radicals who are willing to trust anything that promises to aid them in destroying the existing order. It finds expression also in the schools. The education of the child is to be founded on his instincts in the belief that what the child needs is an opportunity for self-expression. The teacher is not to direct the child. His task is to provide suitable stimuli to bring out natural expressions from the child, and to aid the child in the realization of the ends which have been thus evoked. There are, of course, many practical difficulties which prevent the full realization of this programme. But these are considered unavoidable difficulties, which must be taken into consideration. They do not af- fect the general attitude that the maximum and most satisfactory development of the child will result from its natural and undirected expression of its impulses and desires. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 113 The advocates of this position do not seem to take into consideration that activities are always responses to exciting stimuli, and that by changing the stimuli the response is changed. Hence, there is always the problem what stimuli shall be presented, for it may be taken for granted that the response will always be the natural response given the conditions which evoke it. The use of the natural in the sense of undirected may be attacked in another way. We should not be too sure that the natural way to rear a child is to leave it alone to act as may be determined by a sort of "mystical" guide within it. The natural thing for a child to do is to give heed to instruction, and the natural procedure of the interested adult is to give advice and instruction. Without this the child would be compelled to go through a long and laborious proc- ess of hit and miss in order to learn the responses and adjustments that are most satisfying. To follow a laissez-faire policy would be to convert the advantage of plasticity into a disadvantage. We may be greatly impressed with the perfection of the responses and adaptations of the lower animals, which are supposed to be determined by the free play of instinct, and the working of intelligence when con- trasted to that of instinct may appear in an unfavor- able light, but after aU intelligence is our instrument of knowledge, and it is therefore natural for us to act in an intelligent manner, that is, attempt to predict, to foresee consequences, and direct the factors under 114 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT our control so that the end we desire may be accom- plished. Hence, nothing would be more unnatural than for us to abandon our instrument of control, to cease our efforts to bring about conditions which we desire. The natural tendencies of an intelligent being are counter to a laissez-faire policy, as well as the in- terest of the child who needs to be taught. We thus see that the writers who condemn society for its repressions and urge that we permit a more natural expression of our instincts do not give us a clear knowledge of the natural; while what they seem to identify with the natural turns out upon examination to be undesirable as norms of conduct. If we take the common tendency to identify the natural with the primitive we find no reason to regard the modes of behavior that have been abandoned as more natural, or of greater value, than the preferred ones. Nor have we been able to find that the more fundamental is more natural, or of greater value, than the less fundamental. If we seek a definition of the natural in physical needs and impulses, we find little that is of ethical or moral significance. If the natural is regarded as the undirected expression, we find that this turns out to be merely an abandonment of the r61e of intelligence, which is highly unnatural to the intelligent being and detrimental to the creature de- prived of the control. If the writers referred to had given greater thought to defining the natural, they would have seen that the INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 115 natural, like the fit, has reference to the setting in which the behavior or phenomena occurs. It is no less natural for a man in our culture to use a rifle than it is for a man in primitive culture to use a club. Both act naturally. It would be unnatural if a man in our society went out to hunt tigers with a club when a rifle was at his command. So it is with other cultural contributions. We react to the cultural setting in which we are placed just as it is natural for human nature to react given the conditions. Our behavior is no less natural than that of the most primitive savage. The fear that our culture is becoming too artificial and the fear that we are leaving behind too far our instincts are unwarranted. The instincts of man are responding as naturally in our culture as they have in any culture. The difference in his responses is not due to the fact that man is responding unnaturally, but to differences in the exciting stimuli. Whatever our responses may be they are always the natural responses of an organism under the given condi- tions. Obviously, the natural if so regarded cannot furnish ethical guidance, for every act becomes a natural act. Whereas it is the task of ethics to furnish us the means by which acts can be evaluated more intelligently. Some acts are good, some are indifferent, some bad. If this were not true there would be no point to ethical discussions. We only engage in ethical discussions when we recognize the existence of good and bad acts. 116 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT Hence, if it turns out that all acts are natural, the natural loses all value as a norm. On the other hand, we have found that no matter how the natural is defined, it cannot be identified with the good, since it is only some natural acts that are good. Others are bad. Sufficient proof of this is furnished in the indisputably natural behavior of the moth when it flies into the flame, or in the more com- plex behavior of certain ants that rear the larvse of beetles, only to see the beetles devour their own young. Behavior of this sort cannot on any pretext be re- garded as good. Yet our romanticists continue to, prize the natural and to condemn many niceties of culture as unnatural. They hold up the natural man, and place beside him in scorn the man of culture and polish. In doing this, they must have in mind the natural man of Rousseau. They forget that the natural man partakes as much of the nature of the Nietzschean ideal.. It would be well for those who exalt the natural man to have at times before them the natural man of Nietzsche. Hocking has made an illuminating contrast of the two types: "The natural man of the Nietzschean ideal is a very different person from the natural man of Rousseau: he is far more strenuous, far more acquainted with pain and hardness. But like his predecessor he finds his law within himself, and defines his good as the venting of his energies upon the world. He is a hater of Christianity chiefly because Christianity seems to INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 117 him to curb the salutary surgical processes of nature — his surgery. He has the grim optimism which most rejoices to proclaim the goodness of things when he finds the world red in fang and claw — his fang and claw. . . . We have now ... an immense demonstra- tion of the working of this type of liberation. And we, who look on, and have made use of that same faith in our own public and economic life, cannot quit our- selves of taking part in the process by which the whole Western world in horror and lamentation shall revise its judgment." * The third assumption, namely, that the maximum development should be desired, has a host of adherents who accept it as obvious. To the multitude a defense of it seems unnecessary. But it is defended by the more thoughtful and critical in two ways which are ia themselves very different. For example, it is defended by Hocking on the as- sumption that we are born with a mass of instincts which have a right to the fullest possible develop- ment and expression. One gets the idea from his de- fense of this position that instincts are "little voices" crying to be heard and longing for a particular goal. Whether he regards them in this way or not, it is certain that he regards them as forces or characters which are entitled to the maximum development. Indeed, this is the assumption that underlies his de- fense of the right of the state. The state, he tells us, * Human Nature in Its Remaking, 22. 118 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT is necessary for the full development of the instinct of will to power. Therefore, it is justified. Justification or defense of the programme of maxi- mum development in the above way is emphatically rejected by Ritchie, who is a severe critic of this re- vival of the theory of "Natural Rights." Yet he, too, holds that the maximum development is good, and even endows the individual with a "right" to the full- est possible development. This "right" he bases on the assumption that since every individual is poten- tially a sharer in the consciousness of universal reason, he is entitled to the fullest possible development and realization of his potentialities.* These positions do not seem tenable. Suppose there are, as Hocking seems to think, a mass of innate ten- dencies or characters longing for expression, it is hard to see why this should endow them with a "right" to expression. Many desires and longings are denied such "rights." We have been able to discover no good reason for supposing that a desire should be endowed with "rights" because it is innate. Nor does it fol- low that an individual has a right to share actually be- cause he shares potentially. If this were true, ethics would become hopelessly confused. For here again all distinctions are destroyed. Whatever may be exists potentially, but it is j'ust the task of ethics to deter- mine which of the many and contradictory potential- ities shall be actualized. * Ritchie, Natural Rights, 96-97. INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 119 It is the position of Hocking, however, that is of interest, for it is based on the assumption of specific instincts with "rights" to expression and development, and he seems committed to the view that the maximum development will be realized through the fullest de- velopment possible for each instinct. But can the maximum development be realized in this way? It is true that the possibility of bringing it about in the above way begins to grow impressive if we accept the explanation Wallas gives of the unsatisfactory condition of children reared in charity schools. Chil- dren so reared are denied an expression of their in- stinct for property. Hence, their poor condition. But we begin to entertain doubts regarding the possibility of realizing maximum development through the fullest expression of all instincts, when this same author ac- counts for the popularity of aerial railways in terms of the instinct of fear which is being "balked" in modern society by the scarcity of fear arousing situations. One begins to think that maximum development involves the fullest possible expression of our "instinct for grief"; or even that it may include the fullest possible expression of our "instinct for pain." Yet actualiza- tion of such instincts and capacities is no guaranty of development. Indeed, their actualization and de- velopment can take place only at the expense of other instincts and capacities. For instance, gratification of the "instinct for fear" prevents the gratification of the "instinct for mastery"; to grieve thwarts the "ex- 120 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT pansive instinct"; to suffer pain thwarts, the instinc- tive love for ease and comfort. It therefore becomes apparent that it is the expres- sion of some instincts in some ways that makes for development. If the maximum development is what we wish, we must obtain it through the use of intelH- gence as a regulator and director of our activities, rather than by allowing the free and unimpeded ex- pression of instincts or innate impulses. Hence, in- stincts cannot get a sanction on the assumption that the maximum development is realized through the natural expression of our innate tendencies. The conception just criticised is dangerous for social solidarity. It is true that Hocking used this concep- tion to justify the existence of the state. But this is not the only conclusion to draw. Indeed, it is not the most obvious one. Hocking's conclusion is perhaps an indication of his contentment with present conditions. But I people who are profoimdly discontented will hardly draw the same conclusion. They will hold rather that the state is a burden to free and natural expression of our instincts, and as such is detrimental to our high- est good. Hence, the burden should be made as light as possible; for the hope of progress and better adapta- tions depends on the opportunity given the individual to develop freely as may be determined by the deep characters that underlie his personality. Hence, the state, instead of being regarded as a means for the de- velopment of the instincts, is looked upon as a thwart- INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 121 ing and repressive agency. This position is maintained by Russell in his Principles of Social Reconstruction. It is the free individual on whom progress depends. All the state can do is to deprive the individual of as little freedom as possible. However much Russell might take issue with Hock- ing regarding the state as a necessary agency for the development of all the instincts, he would agree that the maximum development of the individual is good, and should be desired. But, after all, should we de- sire the maximum development? Why should we as- sume that the maximum development is good? Let us consider human life in general. The amount of human life can be greatly increased, but are we to follow Ella Wheeler Wilcox in assuming that this is an indication of millions of unborn infants offering one grand lamentation for the light of day? And are we to assume that these lamentations should influence us to bring about the greatest possible amount of life ? Maeterlinck seems to have a keener insight when in The Betrothal he emphasizes so effectively the right of infants to be well born, rather than to mere birth. The amount of life can no doubt be greatly increased, but are we sure that the increase would make the sum total of life of more value? It is quite possible that a smaller amount of life; lived more intensely and more uniformly pleasant, is of far greater value than a large amount of life that is barely worth the living. So it is with all development. It is quite possible 122 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT that less development in some directions will make the final product of far more worth than it would be if the maximum development of all had been accom- plished. It is also quite possible that the development of some at the expense of others, whether we are dealing with individuals, instincts, or tendencies, will make for a more satisfactory development — and possi- bly even a greater development — than the less though equal development of all. These possibilities do not seem to be entertained by the directors of our educational policies or by social uplifters. They are so convinced that every man should be educated, that all should develop to the utmost, that they do not stop to pay attention to the ultimate effects such a policy if carried through would iiave on society at large. Or if they do show a desire to evalu- ate their programmes in terms of its consequences, they assume at once that an educated man, a man who has developed to the utmost, a man of refined sensibilities and of culture, is of greater value to the community than one not so highly developed. Hence, they strain every resource in order that all may be educated. In this policy they do not seem to consider the ne- cessity of hewers of wood and drawers of water. Or else they think it possible to actualize the sensibilities of this class and yet have contented the peaceful labor. Whether this is true or not, their attitude indicates that they think it better to have all potentialities real- ized even if it means only discontent and unhappiness INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 123 for the individual and social unrest and strife for the group at large. For is not a Socrates — ^unhappy and discontented — better than a satisfied pig? Perhaps. But is not labor, satisfied, contented though stolid and insensitive, better than labor, dissatisfied, discon- tented, wide awake to the appearance of all injustices and for this reason unhappy if not miserable ? There is one "Natural Right" we all possess. We have the right to expect that opportunity for the satisfaction of desires and appreciations shall go hand in hand with the rendering actual our capacities for such enjoyments. It is this right that educators should have in mind when they insist on the realization of all capacities for en- jojonent, even though they are perfectly well aware that opportunity cannot be given for the enjoyment of the capacity. For it is as a result of their programme that there occur repressions and disintegration of char- acter of the worst kind. How ova own cultural group will be affected if aU peoples reach a maximum degree of development should concern us. Yet social uplifters of broad sympathies would no doubt be inclined to extend their programme of maxi- mimn development to include aU living forms if it could be shown that other living forms are capable of such development — even if it should be detrimental to the interest of the human race. For why should maxi- mum development be confined to the human race? Since development is good, why should man wish to limit this good by his own interest? 124 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT For example, let us suppose that we have discov- ered a way to make useful laborers out of monkeys, and that it should be discovered later that by educa- tion they can be made into creatures of refined sen- sibilities and our competitive consumers. The policy of maximum development would demand that they be made into competitors; for why should we deny mon- keys this development? Is not an educated monkey better than an uneducated one? The fact that we lose the benefit of their labor, and must compete with them for the wealth of the world does not matter. It is the maximum development that we desire. What effect this may have on the human race is not to be considered. To do so would be simply an indication of our selfishness and narrowness. Away with such egoism ! We must look at development in a large way. People who have become so imbued with the brac- ing atmosphere of the biological sciences that the odor of humanity is oppressive may perhaps feel this way. But to those of us who frankly assume the human point of view, such a programme seems little less than madness. To place the same value on the develop- ment of all species ignores the fact that we are human beings with human interests and needs to provide for, which in many cases conflict with the interests of other species. The assumption that all tendencies, impulses, and capacities in the human being should be developed is equally untenable, as well as the assumption that we INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 125 can wish for the development of all. The development of certain capacities and tendencies is incompatible with that of others. It becomes necessary that we choose those tendencies that are to find expression. Nor do we make this choice by an arbitrary act of will. Our choice depends largely on the training and environmental conditions to which we have been sub- jected. We are no more able to ignore our past train- ing in our evaluations than we are to ignore the fact that we are human beings. As human beings we have the values of human beings. As products of a certain history we have the values that human beings have when subjected to certain conditions. There is no need to assume, then, an air of broadness in reference to the development of all capacities. Such an assump- tion would seem to indicate that we regard ourselves as speaking for the human race when as a matter of fact each one of us can speak for only that bit of human nature which he represents, as it has been moulded by the various factors that have made each one of us what we are. Our desires are fixed in this process. We cannot desire that all capacities be developed. We can desire only those capacities to be developed that we value. What capacities we value depend on our original nature and the conditions which have affected it. In this process through which specific desires and values are realized, original nature plays the part of a limiting rather than determining factor. By this I 126 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT mean that the same original nature may if treated in one way come to possess one set of values, and if treated in another way another set. This may seem obvious. Yet its obviousness seems to have been missed by a great number of writers, who seem to feel that within one there is a store of innate impulses and desires long- ing for expression. If the above truth had been grasped this group of writers would have discovered that social evils cannot be regarded as due to the repression of these forces, or social goods, to their natural expression or maximum development. In brief, they would have recognized that social programmes cannot be discov- ered in the supposed will of these hidden entities. The conception of instincts as creators of psychic tension, of entities longing for expression, is not lim- ited to writers who wish to found their programmes for social reform on the sanction of instinct. It is the con- ception of many writers who feel that they can inter- pret culture and social behavior in terms of the vari- ous manifestations and thwartings of these forces. This is the assumption that students who wish to give a psychological interpretation of culture too often adopt. An examination of these attempts should make all the more obvious the r61e that has been as- signed to original nature and the fact that our desires and values are the products of the give-and-take rela- tions we sustain to our environment rather than the expression or unfolding of certain innate characters, which are supposed to possess certain longings and de- INSTINCT AS A SANCTION 127 sires irrespective of the situation in which they are placed. An examination of this order is the task of the next chapter. BIBLIOGRAPHY Bergson, Henri: Time and Free Will, 1888; Creative Evolution, 1910. FoDett, Mary P.: "Community as a Process," Philosophical Review, 1919. Freud, Sigmund: Reflections on War and Death, 1918. Hobhouse, L. T.: Morals in Evolution, Part II, 1907. Hocking, W. E.: Human Nature in Its Remaking, 1918. Laski, Harold J.: "Pluralistic State," Philosophical Review, 1919. Moore, G. E.: Principia Ethica, 1903. Marshall, R.: Instinct and Reason, 1890. Ritchie, D. G.: Natural Rights, 1895. RusseU, Bertrand: Principles of Social Reconstruction, 1916. Scott, John W.: Syndicalism and Philosophical Realism, 1919. Sidgwick, Henry: Methods of Ethics, 1901. Sumner, W. G.: Folkways, 1907. Trotter, WUliam: Instincts of the Herd in War and Peace, 1919. Veblen, T.: Instinct of Workmanship, 1913; Theory of the Leisure Class, 1912. Watson, J. B.: Behavior, 1914- Wimdt, W.: Elements of Folk Psychology, 1912; translated, 1916. CHAPTER IV mSTINCT AM) CULTURE In Chapter III, I referred to the claims of many writ- ers that our culture and institutions are rooted in and shaped by our store of innate tendencies and capac- ities, and to the claims of another group of writers that institutions and culture should be but are not. It was the latter position that I examined in the foregoing chapter. I now wish to examine the claim that our culture, institutions, and customs are rooted in and determined by our innate tendencies. If this claim is true, then it should follow that the culture of the same race should show striking similar- ities, and cultural changes should be very slow — since original nature is supposed to vary little, if any, over long periods of time. On the other hand, if, as I have suggested, the behavior and desires of an individual are determined by the relation he sustains to his en- vironment, it should follow that the many variable factors that go to make one's desires and activities should bring about such a variety of customs and in- stitutions that they cannot be regarded as rooted in or determined by any factor supposed to be common to all of them. Under this last view there is no difficulty in accounting for sudden variations in customs or 128 INSTINCT AND CULTURE 129 moral ideas, nor in accounting for wide variations of culture found in the same race. The most casual observation of human behavior and of customs and institutions reveals wide discrepancies. Any explanation of adult behavior must, therefore, give some account of the great discrepancies in the Ukes and dislikes of man for the same object, for the great diversity of moral ideas and sentiments, and the variety of customs, taboos, institutions, and social or- ganizations. These facts must be accounted for. The question is: To what extent can they be regarded as determined by our supply of instincts, or profitably rooted in original nature? I am careful to say profitably rooted, for no matter what man does, it may in a sense be regarded as rooted in his original nature, since man cannot act or be af- fected in a way that is without the range of his capac- ities. Before undertaking to answer this question certain principles should be laid down. In the first place, when there is a question regarding the advisability of rooting certain behavior or structures in the original nature of an organism, we should know if the discussion is limited to the species to which the organism belongs or if we are making a comparison of organisms belong- ing to different species. The value of this can be shown by reference to a concrete case showing variation in the structure of organisms of the same species. For instance, it has 130 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT been found that when certain aphids are raised on the heavy salts of magnesia and sugar they become winged. When raised on other substances they remain wing- less.* The question arises: Shall the wings be regarded as rooted in the original germ-plasm of the aphids? In answering this question we should know if we are discussing aphids only, or if we are comparing aphids with other insects which under no condition can be made to develop wings. In the former case there would be little value in regarding the wings as rooted in original nature, for it is seen that the wings bear a constant relationship to environmental conditions, and are therefore more profitably regarded as due to the particular treatment rather than as an outgrowth of a "capacity to be affected" in the germ-plasm. On the other hand, if we are comparing aphids with other species, which cannot be affected so as to produce wings, then to root the "capacity to be affected" so as to produce wings in the original nature of the aphids would be of value. The second principle that should guide us in deter- mining the advisability of rooting behavior or struc- ture in original nature is: The greater the degree of uniformity in development, in spite of variations in the environmental conditions, the more profitably can the development be regarded as rooted in original na- ture. Thus if it should be found that aphids continue * T. H- Morgan, Physical Basis of Heredity, 2iq» INSTINCT AND CULTURE 131 to have six feet under all environmental conditions, then we can with a good deal of assurance regard the six feet as rooted in the original nature of aphids. Applying these principles to man, let us consider the advisability of rooting culture in man's original nature. On observation we find that all men possess a culture. Whatever the environment may be, man possesses a culture and is profoundly influenced by it. We may, therefore, without hesitation, regard this capacity to select certain preferred ways of living and to pass them down as rooted in man's original nature. If we consider, however, the various products of culture the case may not be so clear. These present such a wide diversity in spite of the common factor of race, and the variations bear such a constant relation to variables in the environment, that it may appear of little profit to regard particular cultures, or particular cultural products, as rooted in man's original nature as long as we wish to confine our discussion to man. If, however, we wish to compare man with other ani- mals, which under no conditions possess a culture, then of course the "capacity to be affected" may with profit be regarded as a distinguishing mark of man's original nature. In a sense, therefore, aU cultural products may be regarded with profit as rooted in man's original nature, since man of all animals is the only one to possess a culture. But in another sense, that is, in the discus- sions regarding the gelation, of original nature, to cul- 132 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT ture, we may find it of slight advantage to regard cul- ture as so rooted; for particular cultures vary so much that as long as our discussions are limited to man and his behavior it appears of slight profit to regard so many variables as rooted in or determined by any constant factor. With these principles in mind, let us consider whether we can profitably root customs, institutions, and cul- tural products in general in man's original nature. Let us consider first the behavior of man in the state, religion, business, and family. Thorndike states that his behavior in these relations is so rooted. But does the behavior in these relations present a uniformity that invites us to regard it as determined by a single factor? For instance, what do we find regarding behavior in the state? We find that some men are rulers, some subjects; that some prefer one form of government, some another; that some are pacifists, others mili- tarists; that some are nationalists, others internation- alists, and so on. If we consider man's religious activities and atti- tudes we find the same. Some men are pantheists, others atheists. Some are believers in Christ, some in Buddha, and still others in Mohammed. Some are pious, others are impious. Some are reverent, others are irreverent. Some are superstitious, others are "scientific," and so on. An examination of cult prac- tices would reveal the same diversity. For instance. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 133 in many groups it has been the custom, and still is in some, to stimulate fertility in nature by wild abandon and orgistic ceremonies of various sorts. While in other groups the planting time is one of complete abstinence from sex life. If we consider man in his business relations we find the same. Some are capable, others are incapable. Some are successful, others are unsuccessful. Some have a high sense of honor, others are dishonest, and so on. Such a variety as this indicates that it is of slight value to regard this behavior as rooted in original na- ture. This becomes all the more apparent when we remember that the behavior and preferences in every case would most likely have been different if the con- ditions surrounding the individual had been different. Thus no one would claim that the religious beliefs of a man are rooted in his original nature.* But neither are his political ideals. Nor his position in the state. The same is true in business. Original nature is only one factor that makes for success or failure. The same person may be a success or failure depending on external conditions, such as competition, accidents of investments, favorable breaks of the market, etc. And * McDougall, it is true, attempts to account for the distribution of the various religions as a result of the innate characters of the various races in Tke Group Mind, 158-161. But he would not hold that the be- liefs are rooted in original nature, but simply that the original nature favors one t3T)e of religion rather than another. He recognizes that one's beliefs are determined by the beliefs of the commtmity in which he hap- pens to be reared. 134 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT his success or failure in business has a profound influ- ence on his other activities and even attitudes. Thus, whether he is reverent or irreverent may depend on his success in business, for not only are the objects of reverence determined by one's environment, but the attitude itself is in a great measure a reflection of one's own experiences. The same is true of honesty. It is a common saying that a man is as honest as conditions will allow. This statement may seem rather cynical when examined in the light of American ideals and high regard for honesty. But making aU due allowance for this, it is certain that one's regard for the truth is de- termined by his trainiag rather than by his original ^ature. ' It thus becomes evident that what the man is is de- termined — not by his original nature, for the same original nature may give rise to hundreds of men quite different in their ideals, values, sentiments, and im- pulses — but by the variable conditions which have affected his original nature so as to give rise to the [particular man that he is. The family, however, should offer the best field to establish the claim that the behavior of man is rooted in his original nature. This is due to the fact that the family is a more fundamental institution and is in answer to more direct needs than the other institutions considered. It also affords less room for variation. Hence, its organization should show the uniformity, and should be the object of a common regard that is INSTINCT AND CULTURE 135 expected of an institution largely determined by one factor. If we fail to find value in rooting this institu- tion in original nature, then we may well infer that no institution can be profitably regarded in that way. The dawn of the human family is heralded in the family organization of the higher apes and gorillas. The dependence of the female and young ape or gorilla for protection on the male made necessary an organi- zation of some kind. It is only natural to suppose that along with this necessity went dispositions that made companionship between the sexes pleasant, and that as a consequence the family organization as it exists among apes and gorillas resulted. By the same reason- ing we should infer that since the above needs are even greater in the human species, the dispositions just referred to are even stronger in man than they are in the apes and gorillas, and that as a result we iave the more permanent family organization as found in the human race. We should not, however, be too hasty in making a generalization here. We may not have taken into con- sideration all the factors, or even the determining factors, that make the human family what it is. As far as we know man is the only animal that pos- sesses a culture. The activities of other animals are so largely the result of unreflection, and so true to the type of their species, that it is hardly profitable to re- gard their actions as influenced by culture. With man it is quite different. He has a capacity for culture and 136 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT of being profoundly influenced by it that sets him off in striking contrast to the other animals. Indeed, one might say that the behavior of man bears the same relation to his culture that the behavior of other animals bears to their original nature. This state- ment may be extreme, but certainly man's capacity for being profoundly influenced by culture reveals a plasticity in man's original nature that makes a strik- ing contrast to the rigid determinateness found in other animals; for the amount of determinateness is in inverse ratio to the capacity to be influenced. On account of this capacity and of the modifications that man undergoes as the result of cultural influences, we may be led to hold, in spite of the fact that the family organization is in answer to needs that are common to all men and to many other animals, that the famUy cannot be regarded with profit as rooted in original nature. The influence of culture may be so profound, and bring about so many variations, that the institution may be regarded with greater profit as largely determined by cultural influences. For if the family is rooted in original nature it should reveal a striking degree of similarity in the relations between the various members of the family, and should be the object of very similar regard by all men. On the other hand, if it is determined largely by cultural in- fluences, we should expect great variety in the forms of the family organization, and variations in the relations between the various members of the family which INSTINCT AND CULTURE 137 should bear a high correlation with certain cultural variables. It remains then for us to make an examination of the family in various cultures in order to see if its or- ganization presents the uniformity that should char- acterize an institution determined by a common factor, or whether its organization presents a diversity that we should expect of an organization determined by the many chance factors that go to make up any given culture. The relation of husband to wife will provide suitable material to begin the examination. Among us it is ordinarily supposed that marriages are founded on mutual respect and consideration, and that husbands shall be kind and even deferential to their wives. This is quite different from what it is among the lower class of Europe. The wives of the lower class Slavs feel hurt if they are not beaten by thfir husbands. The same is true among the peasant women of Hungary, who do not think that they are loved by their husbands until they have been boxed on the ear. And it is said that among certain strata of Italians the women think their husbands fools if they neglect beating them.* In America, marriages founded on love are regarded as being of the highest type. Love marriages are not so regarded in the aristocratic circles of Europe. The Crow Indians even prefer to buy their wives. Love * Westennarck, The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas, vol. 1, 6s8. 138 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT marriages to these Indians seem too much like the mating of animals. They do not wish to mate like dogs.* We expect girls to be virgins when they marry. This is regarded by the Wadigo as ridiculous if not disgraceful. Chastity among girls is valued as lightlyi among the Bororo of Brazil. Among these people girls are betrothed while very young, and are later sent to live in bachelor apartments with some young man until her fiance is ready to marry.f Similarly, we expect wives to be chaste, yet among many people it is the part of hospitality to allow the visitor to sleep with the wife. J Among us, wives resent unfaithfulness in their husbands, but the Japanese women without the least show of Jealousy keep com- pany with their husbands and courtesans, and later without the least show of jealousy leave their hus- bands to spend the night with the courtesans. § Among some peoples the wife is punished for adul- tery. Among others it is the seducer who is punished. While among yet others both are punished.il We think a man should have only one wife, and are all the more convinced that a woman should have only one husband. Yet both polygamy and polyandry flourish in various parts of the world. We look with disapproval on the marriages of cou- * Lowie, Primitive Society, 24. t Westermarck, vol. II, 422; Lowie, 50. t Lowie, 49. § Sutherland, Thi? Origin and Growth of the Moral Instinct, vol. I, 264. II Westennarck, vol. II, 447-450. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 139 sins. The Blackfoot do not tolerate marriage within the group at all. On the other hand, among the natives of West Australia the marriage . of cousins is prescribed.* It is the usual custom to marry within one's class, yet in the rigidly caste society of the Natchez Indians a member of the Sun, or highest caste, is compelled to marry a Stinkard, or member of the lowest caste. But so hard and fast are the caste regulations in other respects that the caste distinctions are maintained be- tween husband and wife, violation of which means death to the offending party. For bachelors to live with paramours is considered highly immoral by us, and provision is made in many savage tribes to keep the unmarried men and women apart. But among the Masi suitable quarters are pro- vided for the unmarried men and women, who live together until ready to marry. Shakespeare held that marriage turned the night into the best part of day. The Bank Islanders feel so differently about it that men neither eat nor sleep with their wives. Among other tribes men sleep with their wives during the winter months only.f The relations of parent to child reveal the same great diversity. We take it for granted that parents will take care of their children and provide for them as many advan- tages as possible. Yet even in this country we find it * Lowie, IS. t Lowie, 271, 275, and 306. 140 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT necessary to have laws compelling parents to send their children to school and laws against child labor and infanticide. We also take it for granted that children will re- spect their parents. This is demanded to a much greater extent by the Chinese and Japanese parents. But, on the other hand, among various Mexican tribes children are permitted to strike their parents, to in* suit them with abusive language, and to disobey at their pleasure.* When parents are old we expect the children to take care of them. But among the North American In- dians and the Hottentots about one-half of them were left to die of exposure. It is quite possible that aged parents a few centuries ago were not treated with the same consideration among us which they now receive. This may be inferred from the old legend regarding the "holy Mawle," or of a club placed behind the church doors in various parts of England and Scot- land with which a son might kill his father when he became of no more use.f We can think of no way more horrible to show love and respect for parents than to eat them or to bury them alive. Yet strange as it may seem, the old among the Botocudos at their urgent requests are killed and eaten by their tribe; and the old among the Fijians insist as earnestly that they be buried alive.J * Westennatck, vol. I, 600. t Westermarck, vol. I, 386-388, t Westermarck, vol. II, 568; Sutherland, vol. I, 389. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 141 What a contrast these prayers of the old among the Botocudos and Fijians are to the tenacity with which the old among us cling to life, even though it means hut a few more days of suffering to themselves and care to their friends ! To eat dead children or friends out of love seems to us a horrible practice. Yet this is the motive which underlies cannibalism in a number of tribes.* We think it highly important that a father should know his children, and that the relationship of father to child should be one founded on biological relation- ship. Yet among the Toda fatherhood is determined by a purely conventional rite. And in some societies in which there is no knowledge of the connection between sexual intercourse and re- production, kinship is none the less reckoned through the males — fatherhood being determined by conven- tional rites or by adoption. Children with us do not seem so valuable; for it is commonly regarded as a burden for a man to take care of a child that is not his own. A variety of relationships and attitudes as great as this within an organization or institution that presents as few possibilities for variation as the family suggests that the behavior of man within the family is the prod- uct of a number of chance factors, which have brought out all the responses of which his origuxal nature is capable, rather than that his behavior has been de- * Westermarck, vol. U, 566-568. 142 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT tennined by a factor common to the wide range of variation. Certainly this variety cannot be taken as indicating that there is any great value in regarding the behavior of man within the family as rooted in his original nature; for to do so would make necessary the positing of "roots" of such contradictory natures as would make possible: The care of parents; the de- sertion of parents. High valuation placed on virginity and chastity; no valuation placed on it. Tenacious struggle to prolong life; desire to leave it before decay sets in, and so on. In other words, the variety seems to indicate that the possibilities for varied response in- herent in the situation are exhausted, and that original nature acts in all the ways that are possible for it to act, rather than as showing any decided preference for a definite expression. To root this great diversity in original nature is to load it with a mass of contradictory tendencies and impulses, without greatly aiding us in getting an un- derstanding of the behavior. For after we have so "rooted" them, we are left in complete darkness re- garding the conditions which brought about the ex- pression of one tendency or impulse rather than its opposite. This knowledge can be obtained only through a knowledge of the cultural situation in which the be- havior occurs, that is, through a knowledge of the factors that afifect the "capacities" rather than through a knowledge of the "capacities" themselves. What- ever a man does we may be sure that he has the ca- INSTINCT AND CULTURE 143 padty to do. This, however, is seen to be quite un- illuminating in the effort to understand man's domes- tic relations. It should be pointed out that in all this variety and diversity there can be discerned at least three common characteristics: (i) The need of companionship, (2) sex life, and (3) care of children. These characteristics may very well be regarded as rooted in original nature, for, as I have pointed out, the survival of the race is dependent on some care shown children, and it is reasonable to suppose that with the necessity there should go the tendency and disposition to take care of them. The same may be said regarding the neces- sity of sex life. When two necessary conditions of survival draw the sexes together, we may with a good deal of assurance expect that with this necessity there should go a disposition to crave the companionship of each other. Otherwise the race would inevitably dis- appear. Hence, the pleasure the sexes find in each other's company. While we may, therefore, root with assurance these characters in human nature, yet the inadequacy of these characters to account for the family as we have it is seen in the wide diversity in the family organization, and in the fact that while these characters are pos- sessed by other gregarious animals, the family life of these animals is in many respects quite different from our own. But confining our attention to the human race. It is only by abstracting all differences found 144 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT in the behavior of man that we reach certain common characteristics, which may be rooted in original na- ture. It is not, however, common characteristics robbed of all that makes them real and concrete that we deal with in behavior. It is always behavior of a certain kind, a certain kind of companionship, a defi- nite regard for children, and so on, that we observe. When behavior is viewed in its concreteness, or as it occurs, the diversity assumes such proportions that we begin to entertain doubts regarding the existence of common characteristics that are supposed to largely determine and shape the behavior. We then recognize that the determinants of the behavior which interest us are many and variable. Thus the family, while answering the need of com- panionship, cannot be regarded as determined by this need, as is seen in the fact that it is only in recent times, and in certain countries, that there has existed the degree of intimate companionship between hus- band and wife we observe to-day. So true is this that even to-day in some societies it is a disgrace for a man to eat with his wife. Nor do husband and wife among these people occupy the same quarters. The need of companionship is satisfied by other means. The same may be said regarding the sex impulse or need. The family, though administering to this need, cannot be regarded as the result of sex need. It may as well be regarded as due to restrictions placed on sex life; for the satisfaction of sex needs does not neces- INSTINCT AND CULTURE 145 sitate a family organization. Nor can this need when combined with jealousy account for the family, for among many people there seems to be a complete lack of jealousy in both husbands and wives. This latter fact would seem to throw doubt on the existence of jealousy as an innate character in human nature. In another connection it may be found that the satis- faction of the sex impulse takes so many forms, which bear such a striking correlation to the variable factors in the career of the individual, that we may be led to regard this impulse itself as due to the psychological development of the individual rather than as an innate character that unfolds itself regardless of the in- dividual's experience. The foregoing criticism applies to the variations in the care of children. It is true that the mother's care of her child may be regarded as determined by orig- inal nature. No doubt nature provides a mother with a love for her child as surely as it provides her with the organic changes that make the care of the infant possible. That these provisions of nature are inade- quate to account for the care taken of children, how- ever, is seen in the fact that infanticide is no rare oc- currence; while within the family the treatment ac- corded children varies so greatly that it is unprofitable to regard the behavior as determined by any one factor. In this there is a striking contrast with the uniform- ity of the treatment accorded by other animals to 146 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT their young. This is what we should expect, for man is not only influenced by his own experience, as are other animals, but perhaps even more profoundly by the experience of others. In other words, his behavior is largely determined by impressions from the group and varies with the ideals and knowledge of the group. The variation that is thus brought about in the care shown by the human mother to her young is clearly seen in the foregoing account of the various attitudes of parents toward their children. For example, one mother out of love for her dead child eats it. Yet there can be no doubt but that she with the same cul- tural setting that we have would look with horror upon such a practice. Both attitudes, then, may equally well be regarded as rooted in original nature. But with the rooting of such contradictory feelings in original nature, we be- gin to lose interest in what is rooted. What we wish to know is what is actualized. No one can deny that in a sense all the variations in social practices and behavior are rooted in original nature, for if original nature did not have the capacity to be afifected so as to give rise to the observed behavior, the behavior could not exist. But to root in original nature the tendency to care for aged parents, to aban- don them, to bury them alive, to eat them is certainly not illuminating. The same may be said regardiiig the solicitude of the male in some societies to know that he is the father of the child he protects and the indif- INSTINCT AND CULTURE 147 ierence regarding this in others; and the tenacity with which the old in some societies cling to life, and the desire to abandon it in others. Variations or diver- sity of this sort exhaust the possibility for varied re- sponse. Certainly they cannot be regarded as deter- mined to any marked degree a factor common to all. As far as the common factor of original nature is con- cerned, it throws as much light on one mode of be- havior as on another, since all must be rooted in it. This diversity, however, may be regarded as due to innate differences in original nature. If this were as- sumed, it would be no longer necessary to root all this diversity in the same original nature. Thus the orig- inal nature of each tribe or race would become much more definite, and consequently should throw greater light on the forces or factors underlying each social practice or custom. This is a popular method of explaining differences in culture. This is the method that accounts for culture in terms of race. Westermarck, who cites many of the facts which I have mentioned to show the diversity in the family, bases his interpretation of the differences between the moral ideas of the various peoples on this assumption. According to Westermarck, the moral ideas and judgments are ba^ed on the emotions. He takes this view because our feelings determine whether we judge an act moral or immoral. He is keenly aware that the moral judgments show great variation. To account 148 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT for this he postulates innate differences in the emotions, which are the bases of the feelings. Thus he write/: "While certain phenomena will almost of necessicy arouse similar moral emotions in every mind which perceives them clearly, there are others with which the case is different. The emotional constitution does not present the same imiformity as the human intel- lect." In support of this thesis he points to differences in bravery and sympathy that seem to be innate.* The emphasis that he puts on custom as the deter- miner of the moral and the immoral he realizes is liable to cause the reader to regard custom as the basis of the moral and immoral rather than the emotions. In order that there be no mistake regarding his posi- tion he writes as follows: "It will be argued that by deriving the characteristics of moral indignation from its connection with custom we implicitly contradict our initial assumption that moral emotions lie at the bottom of aU moral judgments. But it is not so. Cus- tom is a moral rule only on account of the indignation called forth by its transgression. In the ethical aspect it is nothing but a generalization of the emotional ten- dencies, applied to certain modes of conduct and transmitted from generation to generation. Public indignation lies at the bottom of it. In its capacity of a rule of duty, custom, mos, is derived from the emo- tion to which it gave its name." f * Westermarck, The Origin and Development of the Moral Ideas, vol. I, II. t IMd., vol. I, isi. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 149 Here it is pointed out that the violation arouses moral indignation. This, however, is explained as due to the fact that custom is the result of the emotions aroused by certain activities. In other words, it is held that customs are moral guides and arouse the moral emotions because the activities connected with them arouse the emotions. It could thus be held that the variety of customs reflect innate differences between the various races. If, however, the various customs and moral ideas are the reflections of innate differences, then the moral ideas of each race should show great uniformity, and changes in the moral ideas of a race should be accom- panied by changes in the innate characters of the race. It should, therefore, follow that the moral evolution of the last one thousand years in Europe should be ac- companied by corresponding changes in the innate characters of the peoples concerned. There are not lacking defenders of this position. It finds an elabo- rate defense in the writings of Sutherland. According to Sutherland, the increase in conjuigal sympathy, the increase in kindness, the growing re- spect for law and order are the results of biological modifications. "I had also written a chapter describing the mitiga- tion of criminal treatment, showing how radically dif- ferent must have been the nervous organization of the crowds of former days, who gathered in eager zeal to watch the torture of men and women, from that of the 150 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT cultured lady or gentleman of our own time, who would shrink with horror from the thought of witness- ing a scene so agonizing, and would give a fortune rather than be compelled to take any part in what our ancestors undoubtedly enjoyed." * "It is, I am convinced, an actual systemic change which has been the cause of the great development of sympathy in the past. A man fairly typical of the modern standard of sympathy would rather have a hand cut off than that any person should be killed by his fault. One of our ancestors a thousand years ago would without compunction have slaughtered thirty persons to save his hand. . . . The Roman emperor, Valentinian, had two bears whose cage was always kept near his bedroom, so that without trouble he could daily see them devour the limbs of men who had just been executed, thus losing before his meals noth- ing of an appetizing spectacle. Can we conceive that a modern emperor of Germany would feel anything but deep loathing and disgust in such a scene? Yet fully half the Roman emperors found more or less pleasure in the sight of mutilation and death. So greatly has the nerve susceptibility of the race been altered in the interval." f Sutherland is convinced that this evolution will continue and that five hundred years more of progress at the present rate will see all marital problems solved. "The time will doubtless come," he says, "when it will •Voi.n,i. t^wa.,4. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 151 be held a monstrous thing to keep in chaias of bondage those who have ceased to love or respect each other, to compel to the daily contact of common housekeeping those who have come to despise each other. Then it will be open to such couples to separate as freely as they united; but when that time comes, scarce a couple wiU wish to separate; for if the world can only con- tinue for five centuries more that progress in conjugal sympathy which has characterized the last two cen- turies, marriage will naturally be indissoluble." * A similar interpretation of variations in social be- havior is offered by Veblen in his Theory of the Leisure Class. Veblen's concern is to give a biological inter- pretation of the fact that some men work and some do not. According to Veblen, at the dawn of human society all men worked on account of the scarcity of wealth. With improved methods of production a surplus of wealth was acquired. This made it possible for some men to survive who did not work. Since life possesses a tendency to realize all possibilities, there came into existence a type of man in whom the predatory in- stinct usurped the place of the instinct of workmanship. Men of the predatory or emulative type, in whom the instinct of pugnacity is strong, compose the leisure class. Men in whom the instinct of workmanship re- tains its strength belong to the laboring classes. It is because of this biological difference between * Ibid., vol. I, 289. 152 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT men of the leisure class and men of the laboring class that the former take so much delight in games of chance and sports of all kinds, while the latter seem to care little for such diversions. Veblen does not fail to take into account the fact that occasionally men of the leisure class show a desire to work and to bear their part of the social burden. Such behavior as this he interprets as a case of sporadic reversion to the more primitive type. As the position of the lei- sure class becomes more and more secure, the pugna- cious instinct will become less and less valuable, and we may, therefore, expect the frequency of the above reversions to increase. It is for this reason that such reversions occur more frequently in women than in men of the leisure class.* The extravagancies of Veblen are equalled, if not excelled, by Trotter's interpretation of the differences between the English and Germans. In spite of the close kinship of the English to the Germans, and of the excellent account of the observed differences between the English and Germans in terms of social causes. Trotter feels that the differences must be really a result of biological differences. In fact, he tells us that it is only by regarding the differences in this way that he is able to understand the inability of the English to understand the Germans. He accord- ingly reaches the conclusion that there are mnate dif- ferences between these peoples, in terms of which he * Introduction, p. 215-217, 338/. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 153 can account for the difference between their songs, their methods of attack, and their discipline. He is evidently afraid that no one will take him seriously. He, therefore, warns us that he is: "When I compare German society with the wolf pack, and the feelings, desires, and impulses of the individual Ger- man with those of the wolf or dog, I am not intending to use a vague analogy, but to call attention to a real and gross identity. . . , The psychical necessity that makes the wolf brave in mass attack is the same that makes the German brave in mass attack; the psychical necessity that makes the dog submit to the whip of his master and profit by it makes the German soldier sub- mit to the whip of his officer and profit by it The in- stinctive process which makes the dog among his fel- lows irritable, suspicious, ceremonious, sensitive about his honor, and immediately ready to fight for it is identical with the German and produces identical. ef- fects." * Trotter seems to have returned from "the bracing atmosphere of the biological sciences" with the dis- covery of a new species, embracing wolves, dogs, and Germans. Such extravagancies may well be dismissed as due to the intoxicating effects of an overdose of patriotism. The adherents of race interpretation of culture are unfortunate in having champions who re- duce their position to an absurdity. We shall have no more to say regarding them. * Instincts of the Herd in Peace and War, 191. 154 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT The more modest claims of champions of the view that differences in moral ideas, sentiments, customs, and institutions are due to innate differences are also difficult to maintain. If differences in moral ideas are founded on differences in the emotions, regarded as innate characters, to what are we to attribute the change in moral ideas following changes in environ- ment ? The high correlation between the customs of a community and the moral judgments of the individual invites us to regard the moral ideas as contributions of society. We are strongly inclined to accept this in- vitation when we observe the radical changes ia one's character following new contacts and changes in social position; for so great are the changes iaduced in this way that we hardly exaggerate this influence in saying that the constancy of character itseK is dependent upon a constancy in the environmental conditions af- fecting the individual. There is no need to suppose, then, that the moral evolution of the past two thousand years has been ac- companied by or caused by corresponding changes in the innate characters of the race. Indeed, we should have no hesitancy in saying that if the conditions under which we Uve were reversed with the conditions under which people lived two thousand years ago, our moral ideas would be identical with those of people who lived two thousand years ago. If this be denied, the person making the denial is confronted with the difficulty of explaining the sudden change in attitude INSTINCT AND CULTURE 155 of the Fijian of to-day and the Fijian of seventy years ago regarding cannibalism. Sutherland himself might well hesitate to hold that this change has been brought about by a change in the iimate characters of the race. v.™^ In the absence of proof of such changes in original \ nature during the past few thousand years, to say the least, and with the weight of opinion of biologists and anthropologists against such an assumption, we should look for the causes of the evolution of the moral ideas and of culture in other factors. These factors are not hard to find. The growth of culture, hke the growth of invention, is cumulative. One bit of culture acts as a new stimulus to man, and thus brings about new growth. In an isolated group we should expect some slight changes in its culture. But in a group that has wide and intensive contacts with many other peoples the process is greatly accelerated. It also gathers mo- mentum from improved methods of intercommunica- tion within the group and by rendering available new sources of wealth. It is in terms of this sort that we are to account for the spectacular advance in Western Civilization, and the even more spectacular advance in the civilization of Japan. These changes were not due to innate modifications of the peoples concerned. They took place as the result of new conditions introducted into the environment, by increased knowledge, by contacts with other cultures, by making available new resources, 156 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT and by greater degree of intercommunication within the group. It is for this reason that we find backward com- munities within all racial groups. Communities of this sort are not necessarily composed of a degenerate stock. Their lack of progress and artistic and crea- tive fruitfulness may be due to lack of contacts; for as contact of mind with mind makes for mental develop- ment, so contact of culture with culture makes for cultural development. It is in light of this principle that we understand what brought about the Renais- sance. It is the same principle that enables us to ac- count for the backwardness of isolated groups.* Thus we see that even when we restrict original nature to the original nature of a single race or tribe, KtUe light is thrown by it on the culture of the people. Customs and institutions change, but original nature remains the same. A knowledge, therefore, of original nature can tell us very little regarding the culture of a peo- ple. If this is true, then we cannot hope to explain cultural phenomena in terms of the innate characters of a group no matter how restricted we make the group or the cultural phenomena. The above truth, can be made all the more apparent * There is, of coxirse, a certain draining off of young men and women from isolated groups. They seek a larger world. The bad efiect of this on the group has by many been overrated. It is generally assumed that the superior leave. It is as often true that the superior establish themselves as leaders, and thus have no desire to leave. Those who are unable to make satisfactory adjustments leave. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 157 through a consideration of the fact that when we know the institution, we cannot tell the psychological prin- ciples, or innate characters, that are supposed to un- derlie it. This may be clearly illustrated through a consideration of the various interpretations of the origin of religion. According to Spencer and Tylor, primitive man in his efforts to understand his dreams, faintings, and apoplexies regarded himself as having a "double." If a person dreamed that he was in a far country, he ac- counted for the phenomenon as due to the fact that his "double" had taken a journey while he was asleep. The same sort of explanation was given for fainting spells, coma, and even death. In each case his "dou- ble" had left him. In death the "double" took per- manent leave of him, and became a spirit who helped or injured the living. The power attributed to these spirits constantly increased until they were finally re- garded as the rulers not only of men but of the powers of nature also. * Opposed to this animistic interpretation of the origin of religious concepts, or belief in spirits, is the na- turistic interpretation. This view is championed by Max MuUer. According to this view, it is nature that arouses in man the feelings of wonder and sublimity through its changes and the greatness of its power and forces. Nature is full of surprises for primitive man, and its changes must arouse within him feelings of * Spencer, Principles of Sociology, vol. 1, 134/. 158 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT fear, wonder, and even admiration, for it is only through reducing natural phenomena to general laws that na- ture has come to assume the air of unifomiity com- monly ascribed to it. For instance, the spontaneous generation of fire as the result of the friction of branches, or as the result of lightning, has an air of mystery. So has the ease of its extinction. Coming in such a mys- terious way, disappearing so easily, and yet withal so useful to man, it is well calculated to arouse in In'ni feelings of wonder and awe. The same is true of the other works of nature. Its vastness arouses the feel- ings of infinitude. The grandeur of the mountains overwhelms him, and the beauty of the heavens im- presses upon him the emotion of the sublime. But na- ture has for him another side. Its mighty rivers and destructive tornadoes are terrors which cause him to feel insignificant and helpless — the puppet of a mighty power. The forces of nature, however, must become person- alized before they can become the object of cult. This is brought about as the inevitable consequence of the crudities of language. When it thunders, it is some- thing that thunders. This is soon converted in the absence of nicety of expression and scientific knowledge into some one that thunders. When the transition from the impersonal to the personal has taken place, there is provided all that is necessary as the basis of re- ligion. Concepts thus acquired are later extended to the spirits of ancestors who are deified. But it must be INSTINCT AND CULTURE 159 remembered that before the deification of ancestors can take place, the concept of deity is necessary. This concept arose, according to Miiller, in the above manner. * Durkheim, in his Elementary Forms of the Religious Life,\ gives an excellent statement of the above the- ories, only to reject them. After directing against them a destructive criticism, he advances his own the- ory of the origin of belief in spirits. His theory may well be regarded as a social interpretation of the re- ligious concepts. According to Spencer and Miiller, the sacred results from a belief in spirits. According to Durkheim, the reverse is true. Spirits result from the sacred. The sacred itself results from the difference between the individual alone and the individual inspired and en- nobled by contact with his fellows. The concept of the sacred is born of the intensification of life that re- sults from contacts with one's fellows. Society, the collective force of the group, exists in each individual, and as a result the individual feels a power or force greater and more noble than those that he holds to be purely his own, helping him to do noble and praise- worthy acts. To this power he attaches a veneration and reverence that distinguish it from the profane. How else is he to regard it save as of spiritual nature. Concepts having thus been brought to light, it is a mere matter of chance association what objects wiU be * Miiller, Physical Religion. 1 44-S4- 160 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT regarded as sacred, or as the source of the superior power. Religion in this way is thus founded on a real- ity, and its permanence and influence are thus ac- counted for.* We have here three theories of the origin of religion-f Which one is correct, or whether all are correct, we cannot tell from a knowledge of original nature. As far as original nature is concerned, religion may have originated through either one of these processes. It is true that in speculations of this nature, psychological principles are valuable in ruling out improbable hy- potheses. But in this case the interpretations cannot be rejected through psychological considerations. To understand the origin of religion, therefore, it is neces- sary to know the facts, or the factors, that brought to light the religious emotions in man. This is a matter of history, and not of psychology; for whatever the find- ings may be, psychology will be under equal obligation to reconcile with them its principles. The practice of cannibalism affords another illustra- tion of cultural phenomena which cannot be accounted for in terms of psychological principles. In virtue of what psychological principle did the practice of can- nibalism originate? Or how shall we root it in orig- inal nature? Shall we regard it as a result of hunger? Or is it the result of belief in magic? Or is it the re- sult of hatred? Or of love? Here again knowledge of * Elementary Forms of the Religious Life. fMaishall, Instinct and Reason, 206, 217, regards religion as the re- sult of an instinct of recent development. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 161 original nature fails to indicate from what root it sprang. It may be practised for any of the above rea- sons, and has been. The facts alone can tell what are the determining causes in each case. Obviously, there can be little value in rooting it in original nature. Here again the determining causes must be discovered In the factors that affect human nature rather than in original nature itself. _i The same is true regarding practically all customs and taboos. The custom may be the same in separate instances, and yet the reasons for it may be quite differ- ent. Thus it may be observed that two tribes have a taboo against basket-making. But one cannot infer from this that the taboo is the result of the same psy- chological principles. In one case it may be due to the fact that lightning killed a man who undertook to make baskets. This event was taken as evidence of the disapproval of the spirits. Hence the taboo. In an- other tribe the taboo may have arisen because the art of basket-making was practised by a neighboring tribe that was regarded as inferior. To make baskets would therefore be a blow to the tribe's self-esteem. Hence the taboo. If original nature is able to throw light on cultural phenomena, it should be able to throw considerable light on the division of labor between the sexes, for the marked physiological differences between the sexes should provide a clear-cut principle for such division of labor. Yet, according to Lowie, "this division is 162 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT largely conventional, i. e., in no way connected with the physiological characteristics of the sexes, as may often be proved by contrasting the regulations of dif- ferent and even neighboring tribes. Thus the Southern Bantu rigorously exclude women from their herds, while the Hottentot women regularly milk the cows." "Each people has its traditional conceptions of masculine and feminine employment. ... A polyga- mous Thonga becomes a parasite supported by his gardener wives; a Kirgiz wife performs the household tasks, while her husband not only tends the herds but also supplies the fire-wood, tills the soil, and manufac- tures all household vessels — the Toda woman has hardly any duties besides pounding and sifting grain, cleaning the hut, and decorating clothing." * Illustrations of this point need not be limited to re- mote and isolated peoples: the peasant women of Eu- rope are accustomed to work for which we employ only men. Even when we confine our observation to a single community we find that the work the women do depends largely on the economic well-being of their husbands. Some women whose husbands are poor work long hours at almost anything; while others whose husbands are well off spend a large part of their time in idleness. Yet we know, Veblen to the con- trary, that the activities of practically all these women could have been reversed if they had married different men. * Primitive Society, 74-76, INSTINCT AND CULTURE 163 la spite of the many diflficulties and inadequacies of psychological, or rather biological, interpretations of social behavior and cultural phenomena,^ the attempt to applythem is often made. In fact, some writers seem to feel that, however satisfactory their account may be in terms of social factors, they must give a biological account of social behavior. Thus, for example, if one is discussing the rise and fall in constructive and commercial enterprises, the explanation must be set in biological terms. A good illustration of this is found in an article by G. R. Davis in The American Journal of Sociology of 1920. According to Davis, every conspicuous advance in civilization is a consequence of "instinctive energies thrown into new channels by increasing mentality. Just what, in the primary sense, is responsible for the awakening powers is a baffling problem."* In the same way he accoimts for the cessation of the con- structive activities. It does not serve his purpose to regard as sufficient an explanation in terms of natural obstacles, scarcity of resources, and barriers to further trade contacts. The real cause is the depression of the constructive instinct. The factors just referred to only served to bring about the depression of the in- stinct; as a consequence of this depression constructive activities decrease. Certainly an heroic attempt is here made to employ psychology in the interpretation of social behavior. Yet it is extremely doubtful if 164 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT additional light is thrown on the situation by saying that certain factors depressed the instinct for con- struction, and that this in turn depressed constructive activities; for the factors that brought about the change are what interest us. We are willing to neglect the nexus between the two variables which seem to stand in relation of cause to eflfect. Perhaps, however, the instinct of construction means more to Davis than a nexus to connect stimulus and response. Perhaps he feels a necessity similar to that felt by Veblen, viz. : If men work, it must be in virtue of an instinct to work. If men engage in constructive enterprises, it must be due to a corresponding instinct. Yet why should these writers feel that activities re- quire corresponding instincts? Is work the result of an instinct? That work is the result of conditions under which one lives seems to be recognized by Veblen himself in accounting for the universality of work at the dawn of human society. Change the conditions and one's attitude toward work undergoes a profound change. And instinct that is thus dependent for its expression on environmental conditions might well surrender its r61e as a motivator of activity; for the real motivator seems to be the total situation. That there is no need for an instinct of this sort becomes apparent through the consideration that work is always for the purpose of realizing some desire. ~ We work, not because we have an instinct to work. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 165 but because we live in a world that makes it necessary that we have purposes and make provision for the future. Place man in a world in which all his future wants are provided for, there would be little work. We work because we live in a world in which work is neces- sary. The attractiveness of the Garden of Eden lies to a great extent in the fact that there men lived in a world in which work was unnecessary. Men in such a world would not work if the habits of those living in the tropics may be taken as sufficient evidence of what men in general would do in a world freed of the neces- sity of work. In the tropics little work is necessary and little work is done. There is no necessity of confining our illustrations to remote tribes. Great numbers of men in our own communities, provided with ample means, do no work. This class of men is not confined to the wealthy. Men of moderate means prefer to live on a small income rather than work for a larger one. Even laborers show this disposition. It is a common complaint in the South that high wages for cotton-picking makes it difficult to get the cotton picked, as this only affords the pickers a living for less work, and consequently they do less work. On the other hand, we have all observed many men of wealth hard at work. Are we to follow Veblen in regarding these men as cases of sporadic reversion to the primitive instinct? They can be much better accoimted for in terms of the ideals and purposes that have been impressed on these indi. 166 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT viduals than in terms of a biological difference be- tween them and other men of wealth. f We may safely assume then that men work, not be- cause of an innate urge to work, but because of neces- L sity and of the ideals impressed on them. The neces- sities of men differ. What is a necessity to one man is gladly dispensed with by another, if he can save him- self from working. On the other hand, men who have no need to work and yet do work are animated by high and big purposes. They are ambitious to become great. It is for this reason that we find men in all classes hard at work. But work in no case should be regarded as due to an innate urge to work. When it is not due to necessity it is due rather to the dynamic character of purposes, ideals, and ambitions which have arisen in \ the individual as a result of his contacts and training. In den3dng that work is due to an innate urge to work and insisting that we work because we live in a world which makes work necessary, I do not wish to convey the impression that work is unpleasant. Much work is decidedly pleasant. It may be rendered so by the fact that the activity itself is pleasant, but more often, by the fact that we enjoy realizing our ideals and giving an expression to purposes we have long enter- tained. It is thus with the boy, full of energy as he is. When he runs eagerly on some errand, it is not because he is thus afforded a release to his instinct of work. It is more often due to his anticipation of some gift, or INSTINCT AND CULTURE 167 the desire to win the approval and praise of his par- ent, or perhaps, in some instances, to please his parent. In the same way, when the adult works, it is not because of the instinct to work. It is in order to achieve certain ends and to be true to his ideals and values. To work under such conditions is pleasurable. To be prevented from working, and thus prevented from the realization of one's ends and ideals, is de- cidedly unpleasant. For these reasons pleasure is ex- perienced in working, and pain in being prevented from working. In order to account for social behavior, or cultural phenomena, in terms of biological or innate characters, it is necessary that the innate character be found wher- ever the cultural phenomena are. It is also necessary, if this explanation is to be of any value, that wherever there are found cultural differences a corresponding difference in the innate characters of the people be discovered. Veblen recognizes the obviousness of this logic. Wherever men work there is the instinct of workmanship. Wherever men fail to work the in- stinct of workmanship is weak, and in its place there are predatory instincts. But in spite of the obviousness of this logic it is not always followed. For example, McDougall attempts to explain the warlike preparations of Europe as due to the instinct of pugnacity, thus accounting for a cul- tural development, confined, certainly in its most ag- gravated form, to one group, in terms of an instinct 168 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT that is supposed to be common to all groups of men. "In our own age," says McDougall, "the same in- stinct (*. c, pugnacity) makes Europe an armed camp of twelve million soldiers." * Evidently in giving this explanation he forgot the negative cases of America, China, and other unpre- pared peoples, or else he abandoned his conception of instinct as an innate urge or tendency common to all members of a species. The negative cases referred to, and the fact that instincts are supposed to be com- mon to the species, should have shown him the worth- lessness of such an explanation, while the degree of America's pugnacity when she was once aroused, after her long calm, suggests that this phenomenon should be regarded as due to a force generated by changed con- ditions instead of to the release of an innate force or instinct. It must be admitted, of course, that unless America and Europe were capable of warlike activities they would never indulge in these activities. But, on the other hand, we know that the capacity is actualized only under certain conditions. It remains dormant under others. Consequently, war cannot be interpreted in terms of a capacity which exists at all times whether there be war or peace. The capacity is merely a neces- sary condition. An adequate interpretation of war must be in terms of the variables, which determine whether the capacity shall be actualized or remain * Social Psychology, 281. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 169 donnant. The capacity or the instinct of pugnacity cannot serve as an explanation, since it as a constant cannot be used to explain variables. In fairness to McDougall, however, it must be pointed out that he would hardly maintain, as I have heard a professor at Teachers College do, that the instinct of pugnacity is aroused and that we then go out to look for some one to fight. He could quite readily admit that the causes which lead to war are social. That is to say, owing to certain social developments we find ourselves in an unbearable situation. A readjustment becomes necessary. But then the question arises: Why under these conditions do we go to war? Why not resort to arbitration? Or to debates as the Scholastics did? Or to a game of chance? These are possible methods of affecting a readjustment. The reason for pushing them aside is because we are pugnacious. This argument, however, falls beneath its own weight. As is pointed out, there are other methods of settling difficulties than by war. But war is only one of the forms the instinct of pugnacity may take, as is seen in the number of civil cases, the keenness of business competition, rivalry in sports, and in the debates of the Scholastics referred to. Also there is in man, ac- cording to Veblen, a strong instinct of workmanship, and according to Trotter a strong instinct of gregari- ousness. Also it is apparent that man takes great de- light in games ol chance. Why are the instincts of workmanship and gregariousness and the delight in 170 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT games of chance pushed aside in order that the in- stinct of pugnacity may be indulged? And why does pugnacity take the form of war rather than some other? Man is capable of all these responses and he indulges in first one and then the other. But we can never hope to explain why a particular one is indulged in terms of the capacities themselves. For the deter- miners we must look outside of original nature itself to the variable factors, which determine whether the ca- pacities shall remain dormant or be actualized. McDougall oJQFers an explanation of the recent growth of cities quite similar to his explanation of the warlike preparations in Europe. The cities have grown be- cause people on account of their strong gregarious in- stinct have been drawn into crowded centres. If the question should be asked why did not this instinct affect the growth of cities in the past in the same de- gree, McDougall would reply: On account of custom, people had grown accustomed to living in rural com- munities, but now with certain changed conditions the old instinct has been able to assert itself, and as a con- sequence people are flocking to the cities. This assertion of instinct is not regarded as due to a new force created in man on account of economic changes and new contacts. These latter factors have served only to break down custom, which had held in bondage the gregarious instinct: "Custom, the great controller of individual impulses, being weakened, the deep-seated instincts, especially the gregarious instinct, INSTINCT AND CULTURE 171 have found the opportunity to determine the choice of men." It is this conception of desires and impulses as in- nate forces in the organism that social writers have in mind when they warn us against the inversion and thwarting of our instincts. It is this that is in mind when social evils are regarded as due to the repression of instruct, and when the natural expression of instinct is regarded as the panacea of all evils. Yet why should desires and impulses be regarded as pent-up forces in man under all conditions? This conception Jimg quite aptly compares to the concep- tion of luminosity existing in the iron because when it is heated sufficiently it will glow. Such a view of our motives and impulses would seem to imply that we are unaffected by the environment in which we live, other than as an opportunity is given, now for the satisfaction of one desire and now for another. In- stead of regarding our desires and impulses in this static way, we should hold that our desires are born of definite situations, and that with changes in our en- vironment there come into existence a world of new desires and impulses, which begin to show their influ- ence in social and cultural phenomena. That the conception of desires and impulses exist- ing as innate forces longing for a particular mode of expression is without value in explanations of institu- tions and customs should be apparent from a consider- ation of the great diversity in institutions and customs, 172 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT and the variety of likes and dislikes relative to the same object. It is for this reason that institutions and customs cannot be regarded as expressions of innate or pent-up forces inherited from generation to genera- tion. Indeed, the forces that we experience in behavior are more largely due to our institutions and customs than the reverse. As for the origin of our customs and institutions, we are in the dark. We can no more explain their origin than the biologist can explain the origin of life. What we know is that we have institutions and customs which exert a profound influence on us, and that their changes follow upon new conditions introduced into their setting. It is useless to attempt to account for these changes in terms of an unknown entity that re- mains a constant in all culture. To do so is a strange reversal of method; for it consists largely in abandon- ing the known and variable factors as explanations for a factor that is not only a constant but which is only known as a sort of nexus between one known and an- other known. A nexus of this sort is quite unneces- sary, and throws no great light on cultural phenomena. Indeed, such a force is detrimental to the study of so- cial phenomena, for either it is rendered unnecessary by the adequacy of the explanation in terms of social causes, or if these causes are not adequate to account for the phenomenon the use of this force invites us to abandon further investigation by regarding the phe- nomenon as due to the operation of a hidden entity. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 173 In the study of culture and social behavior the most that can be assigned to instincts or to original nature is to regard original nature as endowing man with various capacities to be affected, and, above all, the capacity to be profoundly influenced by the environ- ment in which he is placed. If original nature is as- signed this role, the variety of social practices can be understood without difficulty. This variety, however, presents numerous difficulties if we regard the social behavior of man as rooted in or determined by his sup- ply of innate instincts or impulses. This conception of instincts is a relic of the discarded Faculty Psychology, which split the mind into various faculties in terms of which the activities of the indi- vidual were explained. The will, for instance, was sup- posed to exist independently of the intellect. Now we know that the mind is a unit in this respect. Our knowledge and our will are both largely products of our experience. Given a certain mass of experience and a certain setting, the individual will make certain cog- nitions, and at the time of making these cognitions will have certain impulses, or a Tidll of a certain sort. Neither his cognition nor his impulse can be explained by reference to his original nature, for if his past ex- perience had been different, or if the needs and inter- est of the moment had been different, both his cog- nition and impulse would have been different. Thus the peasant women of Europe wish to be scolded, slapped, and beaten. How different are the 174 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT women in America or in higher European circles! Thus our old cling to life with terrible desperation, while the Fijian desires to be buried alive before his manhood is impaired! The roots of original nature throw little light on such diversity. Biology, or the psychology built of biology, can tell us little regarding cultural developments of this sort. The inadequacy of explanations in these terms has been clearly pointed out by Lowie: "AU that psychologists tell us of ethical feelings and the will leaves the problem before us untouched. Why this particular curious feeUng developed, what place it occupies in mental life, the psychologist fails to ex- plain. We get simply general formulae about feeling and will that are equally applicable to the case of the man's beating his wife, or to a boy's resisting the temp- tations of a lollypop. . . . Psychology, then, fails throughout to supply us with the interpretation we want. It is as impotent to reduce to really interpre- tative psychological prindples the subjective aspect of cultural phenomena as it is to explain the historical sequence of events." * The justness of this criticism becomes apparent when we recall that the same objective behavior, such as, for example, cannibalism, religion, or the various taboos, may be due to diverse psychological principles. On the other hand, when we know the psychological atti- tude and the feelings underlying the treatment ac- * Culture and Ethnology, 15. INSTINCT AND CULTURE 175 corded a person, we have no way of knowing that the treatment will be the same. Thus, for example, the love for parents may be expressed by the tender care shown them, or by eating them, or by bur3dng them alive.* Or the love of one parent may cause him to demand from his child exact obedience, or to imprison him in a temple; while love of another may cause him to grant every whim of the child. In the face of the profound influence of environ- mental conditions on the behavior of the individual, it would not have occurred to students to attempt to ex- plain the diversity of social behavior and of culture in terms of innate characters had it not been for the con- ception of instincts as creators of psychic tension, and as entities that are either being expressed in our insti- tutions or being thwarted by them, as can be seen in the fact that this is the assumption that is common to all the writers whom I have criticised. Indeed, it is around this assumption that the social philosophy of instinct has been built. Enough has been said to make it apparent that this philosophy has its roots deep in the psychology founded on the theory of evolution. This philosophy rests on the assumption that the individual, as a result of * For a touching description of this last-named ceremony, see Wester- marck, vol. I, 389. More significant, perhaps, than the treatment ac- corded the old are the expectations and desires of the old. Thus the old in certain cultures wish to live as long as possible and cling to life; in another culture they wish to die before they become senile. 176 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT phylogeny, brings with him into this world a mass of tendencies and ancestral memories which must leave their mark on the individual and influence in some way his behavior. It finds its basis in the treatment of instincts as creators of tension, or as innate forces, which crave for natural expression. It finds its basis in certain vitalistic conceptions which regard the de- velopment and behavior of the individual as watched over by a Vital Principle, which has in mind a definite end, that must be realized if the individual is to be spared the feeling of being thwarted from the realiza- tion of his own preordained end or maximiun develop- ment. It rests on the assumption that the individual is a self-sufficient being, who needs only to be freed from all restrictions and repressions in order to real- ize his greatest and highest development. In the foregoing I have been interested in criticising the use of this conception in ethics and in sociology. I have shown that this conception in ethics fails to point out the course to the moral life, and that its use in this science makes for certain undesirable and anti- social tendencies; and in sociology that it fails to give an interpretation of culture and social behavior. In the following chapter I wish to raise a more fundamental objection to this use of instinct, namely, that it is not only the use that is unwarranted but that the con- ception itself is unnecessary and raises a great many problems that we escape entirely if the behavior of an individual is regarded as determined by the relation he INSTINCT IN CULTURE 177 sustains to his environment, rather than as due to forces, endowed with a sort of existence that makes them independent of the situation in which they are supposed to function. BIBLIOGRAPHY Bristol, L. M.: Social Adaptation, 191 5. Davis, G. R.: In American Journal of Sociology, 1920. Dickinson, Z. C: "The Relation of Recent Psychological De- velopment to Economic Theory," Quarterly Journal of Eco- nomics, 1919. Ellwood, Charles A.: Sociology in Its Psychological Aspects, 1912. Gault, R. H.: "Psychology in Social Relations," American Jour- nal of Sociology, vol. XXII. Kdsey, Carl: In American Journal of Sociology, vol. XV, p. 616. Lowie, Robert H.: Culture and Ethnology, 191 7; Primitive So- ciety, 1920. Miiller, Max: Physical Religion. Ripley, Wm. Z.: Races of Europe, 1899. Sidis, Boris: The Psychology of Suggestion, 1898. Spencer, Herbert: Principles of Sociology, vol. I. Tarde, G.: Laws of Imitation, 1895. Tead, O.: Instincts in Industry, 1918. Westermarck, E. A. : The Origin and Development of Moral Ideas, 1901. CHAPTER V INSTINCT IN PSYCHOLOGY As can be seen from reference to Chapter II, there is a general recognition that behavior must be inter- preted in terms of experience. The mistake, however, is often made of extending the field of experience be- yond the experience of the individual to include the experience of the species, or experience acquired in other incarnations, or perhaps it is made to embrace the wisdom of wonderful ancestors, or of God. Closely akin to this mistake is the tendency to regard the be- havior of an organism as due to a force or power sup- posed to exist outside of the situation in which it ap- pears or manifests itself. There is in Modern Psychology a strong desire to get beyond these primitive interpretations. This de- sire is the underlying cause of the present strong ten- dency toward behaviorism, which seeks to interpret the behavior of an organism frankly in terms of the con- ditions which give rise to the act, and on the basis of observed behavior to predict future behavior under different conditions. This interpretation of behavior does not concern itself with underlying causes of be- havior or with the agencies which connect certain stimuli with certain responses. Indeed, it is the claim 178 INSTINCT IN PSYCHOLOGY 179 of many modem psychologists that speculations re- garding the nexus between certain conditions and cer- tain responses may well be abandoned and that a purely factual study of behavior may be attempted without reference to the usually assumed underlying forces. The task that these men have set for them- selves is so to correlate behavior with the variable determinants of behavior, and the behavior of one individual with the behavior of others, that the pre- diction and control of behavior shall become possible. Naturally, men who have set for themselves this task can have but little patience with the barren specula- tions regarding the motive forces back of behavior. These men rightly hold that just as we are content to explain the precipitation of a chemical from the solu- tion in terms of the antecedent conditions that brought about the precipitation, so we should be content to ex- plain the behavior of an organism in terms of the an- tecedent conditions that brought about the response. C. Lloyd Morgan may be regarded as a champion of this position. He has stated the argument so clearly that it seems well to quote him: "Now when one is dealing not with a crystal which is diBferentiated within a solution, but with a percept which is differentiated within experience, I conceive that the same limitations should be imposed on scien- tific treatment. The metaphysician, no doubt, may explain it by reference to an underlying cause, the conscious ego, the agency of self-activity by which it 180 THE SOCIAL PHILOSOPHY OF INSTINCT is produced; but the man of science can only explain it by reference to the antecedent and accompanjdng conditions in relation to the generalizations which have been found to hold good in such cases." * It is this behavioristic interpretation of behavior that furnishes a sure basis for all measurements of in- telligence which no speculation regarding the nature of intelligence or of the intelligent principle can shake. It is true that doubt regarding the nature of intelli- gence, or what it is that makes intelligent behavior possible, may be entertained. There can be no doubt, however, that on the basis of the observed behavior of an individual under certain conditions his behavior under different conditions can with a good deal of assurance be predicted. This prediction is made possi- ble by correlating one act under one set of conditions with other acts under other conditions. On the basis of this correlation an intelligence rating is passed, which no speculation regarding the nature of intelli- gence can shake; for there is no question regarding the nature of intelligence. It is simply a matter of cor- relations between activities, and the person passing on the capacity of the subject is not puzzled with ques- tions regarding the nature of the agency in virtue of which the activity takes place. It is true that examinations of this nature reveal innate differences between different people. One in- * The Natural History of Experience in vol. Ill, The British Journal