Chapter XXXV:
Social Consciousness.
Intellectually considered, social differentiation has always been far in advance of social integration. As in the solar system, the outlying members — the planets — have vastly exceeded the central mass — the sun — in the progress which they have made toward the dissipation of their inherent motion and the integration of their constituent matter, so, in society, while individual men have, at different times and in varying degrees, arrived at full consciousness both of themselves and of the universe, the social mass, the supreme psychic center of the social organism, still consists of a chaos of undifferentiated elements in the crude, homogeneous state. So great is this lack of integration in the social consciousness that society as a whole is still broken up into a large number of more or less remote and independent sub- societies, joined together more or less feebly by ties which differ in strength, from those of language and national characteristics in politically dependent states, to those of commerce, more or less irregular, between wide- separated peoples speaking in different tongues. — Dynamic Sociology, II, 397.
Society, possessed for the first time of a completely integrated consciousness, could at last proceed to map out a field of independent operation for the systematic realization of its own interests, in the same manner that an intelligent and keen- sighted individual pursues his life- purposes. — Dynamic Sociology, II, 249.
A time arrives in the progress of social development when societies of men become conscious of a corporate existence, and when the improvement of the conditions of this existence becomes for them an object of conscious and deliberate effort. At what particular stage in human history this new social force comes into play, we have no need here to inquire. What I am concerned to point out is that it is a new social force, wholly different in character from any which had hitherto helped to shape human destiny — wholly different also from those influences which have guided the unfolding either of the individual animal or of the species. We cannot, by taking thought, add a cubit to our stature. The species, in undergoing the process of improvement, is wholly unconscious of the influences that are determining its career. It is not so with human evolution. Civilized mankind are aware of the changes taking place in their social condition, and do consciously and deliberately take measures for its improvement. — Prof J.E. Cairnes: Fortnightly Review, Vol. XXIII, January, 1875, p. 71
But I pass these by with bare mention to fix attention on only one, viz., the modern social doctrine of human progress. Observe, however, I mean not mere natural evolution, or unconscious progress according to necessary law, but conscious voluntary progress according to a free law, a conscious striving after a higher goal, for the individual and for the race. — Joseph Le Conte: Relation of Biology to Sociology, p. 7.
If the resemblance between the body physiological and the body politic is any indication, not only of what the latter is, and how it has become what it is, but of what it ought to be, and what it is tending to become, I cannot but think that the real force of the analogy is totally opposed to the negative view of State function. Suppose that, in accordance with this view, each muscle were to maintain that the nervous system had no right to interfere with its contraction, except to prevent it from hindering the contraction of another muscle; or each gland, that it had a right to secrete, so long as its secretion interfered with no other; suppose every separate cell left free to follow its own "interests," and laisssez faire. Lord of all, what would become of the body physiological?
The fact is, that the sovereign power of the body thinks for the physiological organism, acts for it, and rules the individual components with a rod of iron. Even the blood corpuscles can't hold a public meeting without being accused of "congestion"—and the brain, like other despots whom we have known, calls out at once for the use of sharp steel against them. . . . Hence, if the analogy of the body politic with the body physiological counts for anything, it seems to me to be in favor of a much larger amount of governmental interference than exists at present, or than I, for one, at all desire to see. — Prof. T.H. Huxley: Administrative Nihilism.
The term consciousness has been used in three different senses: first as applicable to all feeling whatever; second, as applicable to such feelings only as are referred to the brain and become known to the integrated organism; and third, as applicable only to feelings that are sanctioned by the intellect and under its control. This last sense is that of Schopenhauer and Hartmann, difficult precisely to define, but clearly exemplified by the case of the will as that function is understood by them, which they always regard as unconscious. Hartmann's Philosophy of the Unconscious is little more than a philosophy of the Will, in this sense. But according to the more accurate definition of consciousness accepted by physiologists and most philosophers it is the essential part of feeling or sentiency itself, to the extent that feeling without consciousness would be a contradiction of terms. But as animal motion implies feeling it is necessary to assume the consciousness of the lower ganglionic centers, although the ego is not aware of it, just as we ascribe feeling and consciousness to animals that cannot tell us of their mental states. In like manner we must extend the term consciousness as far down in the scale of being as feeling is conceived to exist. Whether this is coextensive with life is a disputed question, no feeling being commonly ascribed to plants. Still it may coexist with motility in the protoplasm of vegetable cells, and may be a property of all protoplasm. But as the purpose of feeling is the protection of such organisms as are not otherwise protected, it may be that it arose along with the development of such organisms. Schopenhauer projected the will much farther, and made it include chemical affinities and all physical forces. But having denied consciousness even to the human will he was not obliged to search for the point where it finally disappeared.
The principal objection that has been offered to the doctrine that society is an organism is that it possesses no organ of consciousness. But as the whole theory is merely an analogy it would not perhaps be more difficult to find the analogue of the brain than any of the other analogues that have been so carefully searched for. If we look into the constitution of society we find that besides the discrete units called individuals there are a great many other units of somewhat higher orders, each consisting of groups of individuals. These are of very different kinds, formed for widely unlike purposes, varying indefinitely in size, constitution, and composition. These groups of individuals may be divided into two general classes, which differ fundamentally from each other. Those belonging to one of these classes are variously denominated organizations, societies, corporations, companies, associations, sects, churches, etc., etc. All such groups are further seen to agree in one particular, however much they may differ in all others. None of them embraces all the individuals within any given territorial area. Many of them are not restricted to any one area or country. They may have members in various parts of the country in which they usually meet, and some in other countries, or they may be "international." Again, even when they are "local," e. g., have no members outside of some particular city, they never, any more than the more general ones, include all the inhabitants of that city. Many of the members of one such society or association are at the same time members of one or more of the others, and membership and allegiance thus crosses, and may even conflict and interfere. The various groups of this general class may be collectively called partial or incomplete social aggregates.
The other of these two general classes of social aggregates or units, may, for the sake of distinction be called, universal or complete. The difference consists in the fact that these latter always include all the inhabitants of some definite territorial area. Moreover, if two such organizations are coordinate they cannot both occupy any part of that area, and no one individual can be a member of any two such associations. But a number of subordinate organizations of this class may be under one superior one, the territory of which is then coextensive with that of all the subordinate ones that fall within it, and all the members of the subordinate organizations are also members of the superior one. All the members of all partial or incomplete organizations are also members of one, and only one, universal or complete organization, and in addition to these also all individuals who are not members of any partial organization.
All organizations, whether partial or universal, have some rules governing their members, those of the former class being formed for a great variety of more or less limited and definite objects. All organizations of the latter class, however, are formed for a single purpose or group of purposes, so that while partial associations are extremely heterogeneous in their aims, universal associations are absolutely homogeneous in this respect throughout the world. This single purpose or group of purposes which constitutes the sole function of all universal organizations is the general good of its members. Partial associations are also often formed for the good of their members, but it is always some special good, usually some one restricted object; they may, however, be formed for purposes quite apart from the interests of the members, as in the case of benevolent associations which seek only the good of others who are not members.
Another peculiarity of universal organizations is that the rules governing their members are not only much more severe and rigid but are capable of being enforced. This is only to a limited extent the case with partial organizations. The church formerly, and the catholic church still, inflicts penalties, but the penalties of other churches at the present day are feeble, and, to outsiders, ludicrous. But the complete organization of any territorial area has full power over its members, even to the taking of their lives where their crimes justify this according to their rules of government.
The reader has not failed to perceive that by universal or complete organizations in the above paragraphs the existing governments of the world have been described, and I have often thought that if we could only get rid altogether of the word government, except in the sense of a body of rules, better results might be reached in attempting to discuss social questions. It is useless to inquire how government originated, or by what right it operates. Unless we propose to play the part of avowed anarchists and wage a general crusade against it, it is as well to accept what actually exists and make the best of it. As a matter of fact, in nearly every part of the world society is under some form of organization which embraces all its members and exercises plenary powers over them, ostensibly at least for their own good.
Some might object that the only real members of a governmental organization are the officers of the government. Such is the position taken by the school of misarchists who are habitually denouncing government as a mere band of politicians who at any time happen to hold office. They would probably deny that they were themselves members of the government of the country in which they live. But they are certainly members of the society which constitutes the nation which is under that government. Moreover, certainly in representative countries, those who vote or may vote must be regarded as forming part of the government which their votes create. But it would seem a strange place to draw the line, viz., so as to make the officers and voters constitute the government and to exclude all others. Many who are not voters contribute to the support of the government. Why should not these be included? But if the government consist of officers, voters, and tax- payers, this will include a very large proportion of the people. Moreover, it is sometimes very difficult to tell just what constitutes a tax- payer. The mere names under which property is assessed come very far from revealing this. But if an attempt is made to find the real tax- payers, not only is it impossible to stop short of including all property owners, but it is equally impossible not to include all consumers. For are not half the national revenues raised on imports which those who possess no property must consume and thus pay taxes? And the same holds for internal revenues, so called. Besides these there are various other ways in which every member of society contributes to the support of the government under which he lives. Then, there are other ways besides voting and holding office in which individuals take part in government. Indeed, everyone who exerts any influence in political affairs may be said to take part in government, and it is well known that many women who cannot themselves vote determine the votes of others. This fact has even been urged as a reason for not extending suffrage to women, as it is said that their influence is stronger without it than it would be with it. I do not mean to endorse this statement. I only mention it to show how clearly the influence in governmental affairs of those who neither vote nor hold office is popularly recognized.
It would seem, therefore, that there is no line that can be drawn which will satisfactorily exclude any person from membership in a government organization, and a government may, therefore, be regarded as consisting of all the individuals within its jurisdiction. If any one, however, objects to this use of the word government, there is no reason why the word nation or state may not be substituted. The name is not essential, only the fact that there exist such universally inclusive organizations as have been described.
The question to which all this is preliminary is: Why may not this universal or complete organization of any given country be taken as the analogue of the organ of consciousness in the animal, and thus complete the analogy of the social to the animal organism? By consciousness, as here used, is meant both the feeling and knowing faculties as attributes of the nervous system including the brain. The analogy is then made complete by looking upon the brain of developed animals as represented in society by the complete independent national autonomy, as, e. g., in this country, the federal government; and the hierarchy of subordinate ganglionic centers by the corresponding subordinate governments, such as state, county, municipal, etc., each of which latter has functions to perform which are not sufficiently important to be referred to the supreme central authority, the same as in any animal organism. From this point of view the independent political autonomies or nations of the world constitute each a social ego, while the subordinate governments are the several ganglionic centres of society that regulate its minor activities.
Symmetrical as this scheme appears to be, it would not be worth proposing if it did not help in understanding the real character of society. Does it do this ? Perhaps as good a definition as can be given of consciousness would be: a knowl edge of a feeling. If the individuals composing the social organism be compared to the parts of an animal organism (which may be restricted to those parts that are supplied with sensory nerves) both are alike composed of a great number of sensitive points or loci of feeling. In the animal it is the reports from these various loci of feeling, both external and internal, that determine and regulate its action, insure its nourishment, and preserve it from danger. This only applies to individuals. It does not extend to the species or any higher groups. It is, therefore, only possible to compare any one fully integrated and independent political autonomy with an individual organism. The feelings of individual men are cognized by the national consciousness in much the same way that the feelings of the parts of the animal organism are cognized by the animal consciousness. The chief point of resemblance is the purpose for which it takes place. In the animal it is always for its good that consciousness works, and we have seen that the sole purpose for which government exists is the good of individuals. There are other agencies, such as newspapers, popular rumor, etc., that acquaint individuals of the feelings of other individuals, but these are purposeless sources of knowledge. The reports that are registered in the seat of political consciousness are so referred only in order that some action may be taken for the good of those experiencing the feelings reported. This is closely analogous to the sensory and consequent motor action of the nervous system under like circumstances. In the animal the feelings are all of the conative class and result in desires to satisfy, and the motor discharges tend to contract those muscles which are intended to satisfy those desires. In society the feelings belong to the same class and the responsive action of government is always in the same direction. Some want is to be supplied, some right enforced, some evil remedied. Government, therefore, whether in its legislative, executive, or judicial function, in so far as it acts at all, is the servant of the will of its members in the same way that the brain is the servant of the animal will. In the next two chapters the analogy will be pushed a step further, but it will suffice here to remark that it is only in its psychological aspects that it is properly applicable. Just as the biological theory of society was seen to be everywhere unsound from ignoring the interjacent science of psychology, so the organism theory of society holds good even analogically only in so far as the comparison is confined to its psychic aspects.