XIV

WORLD-REVOLUTION?

A. THE ECONOMIC REVOLUTION

B. PACIFISM

C. DEMOCRACY, FREE SPEECH, THE WORLD-STATE

D. THE EDUCATIONAL REVOLUTION

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A. THE ECONOMIC REVOLUTION

THE key-note of the preceding chapter was a kind of fatalism, though an ecstatic fatalism. But even though the ecstatic acceptance of fate is one aspect of the truly awakened attitude to life, the other and no less important aspect was said to be the resolute will to act for the awakening of individuals and the human world as a whole, the will to fight for the awakened mentality against the brutish, for life against death, for right against wrong.

I shall now try to outline the kind of world-policy which seems to be demanded if the foregoing account of human nature and the distinctively human activities is true. There is already a widespread conviction that, if we are to save our civilization, or rather if we are to transform our present barbarism into true civilization, certain revolutionary changes must be made in our world. To complete this book it seems necessary to state the main direction of these changes. I t is not for me to describe them in detail. Only the expert sociologist or the inspired revolutionary leader could do so. But their main principles cannot be too often stated, and a brief account of them will give point to the earlier chapters.

The influences which make it impossible to-day for men to be as human as they might be, and to recognize and accept the true world-aim, are the influences which turn nearly all of us in some degree or other into mental cripples instead of well-grown minds.

The chief of these influences are bad economic organization and bad education. By education I mean the whole process of moulding minds by instruction, example, exhortation, and veiled suggestion, which begins in the cradle and ends at death.

To these two underlying problems of economic organization and education we may add two other extremely important problems, namely the problem of democracy and the problem of peace. But both democracy and peace depend in the last resort on the interaction of economic factors and education. Thus the economic problem and the educational problem are the real roots of all our trouble.

The economic organization of the world is bad for the obvious reason that the wealth of the world is controlled in the main by individuals or minor groups of individuals for their own profit. The result has been that economic power has fallen to a minority, who, though many of them in private life are generous and conscientious persons, are none the less, as a class, hide-bound and unimaginative, and quite unable to see that their social principles are disastrous to the world. They use their power in the main for individual success rather than for the good of the world. The great majority of human beings are economically in bondage. They have very many capacities, animal and human, which, because of their economic bondage and penury, they cannot exercise. And because of the same disability, their power of consuming the products of industry is one-tenth, one-hundredth of what it might be, and the system of production is unable to find full outlet.

During the period of industrial expansion the system of economic individualism worked without flagrant disaster; but in the present period of industrial stagnation when the great capitalist states are hungrily craving each other's markets, it is ceasing to work even tolerably well, and it threatens to break down completely.

To-day the immediate need of the world may be said to be the need for economic reorganization under a world-authority which has at heart the interests of all men and not merely the interest of the present economic masters, or of particular national states. But since the world as a whole has not yet come to desire this change, one is tempted to say that the most urgent need of all is for a change in education. Unfortunately the desire for educational revolution is even less widespread than the desire for economic revolution. The only way to deal with this vicious circle is to attack it from both sides at once.

The problem of economic reorganization is an extremely complicated technical problem which calls for expert knowledge and great intelligence. I shall not attempt to discuss it. It can no more be solved by amateurs or by the populace as a whole than problems of medicine or engineering or astrophysics. On the other hand, though the details of the solution must be found by experts, it is for the community as a whole, or for those members of it who grasp the world-aim, to see that the experts do not become blinded by technicalities, do not lose sight of the goal which is to be attained by means of their technique. Briefly the goal may be summarized thus. The productive power of the world is to be controlled in such a manner that all extant human beings may be able to exercise their capacities to the full, and that the quality of civilization may continually improve.

Though the details of economic reorganization are technical and extremely complex, it should be clear by now that reorganization, a very thorough reorganization, is necessary; and that the will, the passion, to carry it out must come not from the experts nor from the present class of economic masters but from the community as a whole, led by an intelligent and inspired minority. Further, if revolution is to succeed, the massed drive and resolution for the initial break with the old order, must gain its force from the indignation of that class which at present suffers most, the proletariat.

But what of the 'middle class', that immense host of highly skilled workers and small employers who are used to fairly comfortable conditions, and are extremely dependent on social confidence and stability? They have much to lose. Unless their conditions gravely deteriorate, they will be chary of desperate remedies. On the other hand, their better fortune enables them to attain on the average a higher degree of general competence than the less fortunate. Without their active support no great change is possible. The West is not Russia. We have seen in Italy and Germany what the misguided enthusiasm of the middle class can effect. But though they can be gulled by those who play upon their fear and hate and sentimentality, they have also great capacities of common sense, balance, generosity, even, I believe, of vision. Unless they join the Revolution, Revolution in the West is assuredly doomed to failure.

All those who demand a new world have to face the question: How is the present economic oligarchy to be divested of power?

Is this great change to be brought about by mildness, by appeals to the moral sense of those who at present hold power, and by co-operation with them? Or must there be a struggle? And if so, can actual violence be avoided?

Members of the dominant class, the economic masters, are human beings, like the rest. They are not devils or brutes. But neither are they angels. If you want to get something out of a man, it nearly always pays to appeal to the best in him. If your case is a sound one, and if you can state it in a way that he can understand and feel, he will want to do the right thing by you. If the cost is not too great, he will actually do it. But unfortunately the problem of dealing with the dominant oligarchy is complicated by the fact that even its best members sincerely believe that the system which they uphold is essential to the health of society. You may persuade them that particular evils in the system must be corrected, but you will never persuade them that the system itself should be abolished. The idea will always fall on a blind spot in their mental vision. It is too foreign to their whole style of thought, and its consequences are too unpleasant. Only exceptional members of the class will tolerate it.

Struggle, then, seems inevitable, hateful as it is. We may, and indeed even for merely tactical reasons we must, work by persuasion and co-operation whenever possible. But time has already shown conclusively that patience and mildness alone will not produce the far-reaching change which is needed if mankind is to turn the present critical corner and advance into true civilization. We must face the fact that the root of the trouble cannot be extracted without a struggle.

One way or another, it is likely to be a grim struggle. But must it be one of actual violence? In Russia the downfall of the dominant class came through a violent upheaval, in which a small party of resolute revolutionaries inspired the workers and guided them to victory. In the West the organization and resources and weapons of the economic masters are far more formidable than they were in Russia; and since the plight of the workers is not nearly so grievous as it was in Russia, their state of mind is as yet very far from resolute. Moreover, in Fascism the masters have a new and potent instrument for gulling the workers, side-tracking their drive toward revolution, and disciplining them in service of the present order. Every serious threat of a red revolution is a strength to Fascists. In England at least, there is at present a far greater possibility that the critical comer will be turned by peaceful and even politically constitutional methods than by civil war. In countries already dominated by Fascism, and in England too, if ever economic distress brings Fascism into power, revolution will probably entail an orgy of bloodshed, and will be grievously coarsened in spirit.

If the economic oligarchy is not soon deposed, the economic disorder of the world will inevitably and at no very distant date produce violent upheavals, relentless tyranny, and greater economic distress. If things go thus from bad to worse, there may well come a time when, all else having failed, a bloody revolution, spreading from country to country, will be the last forlorn hope of those who would found the new world.

Meanwhile, before that desperate plight is reached, what possibility is there of wresting power from the economic masters? What possibility is there of giving that power not merely to the national states but to a world-authority, not merely to some other single social class, such as the proletariat or the middle class, but to the whole world-community?

There is at least some possibility that in the less tortured nations the pressure of circumstances, combined with the logic of intelligent leaders and the insistence of an awakening public opinion, may force the economic masters step by step toward abdication. Conceivably many of them, those who have special knowledge, and are social at heart, may be allowed to continue their work under the new authority. But they will no longer wield great economic power for private ends.

As things stand in Europe to-day, with the capitalists in control both of arms and propaganda, and Fascism on the increase, the hope of a world-wide and thorough revolution is indeed forlorn. The makers of the new world must be content with forlorn hopes, and if Communism (in a broad sense) cannot be achieved peaceably, then they will have to fight, though almost without any hope at all, in the bloody and world-wide revolution in which at best nearly as much will be destroyed as will be created.

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B. PACIFISM

At this point we may conveniently consider the whole problem of peace and war. Some hold that in no circumstances whatever is war, whether international or civil, either right or expedient. In their view the use of force save for ordinary police purposes always creates more evil than it cures. The greatest of all needs, they say, is to accustom the peoples to the idea of absolute pacifism. Only by establishing everywhere a resolutely pacific disposition can world-wide peace be secured. And this disposition, they say, is only to be inculcated by preaching the absolute rejection of war. This view deserves very serious consideration; but we should, I think, recognize that to fight for the new order might under certain circumstances become necessary.

Absolute pacifism rests on the assumption that all men or the great majority of men are sufficiently sensitive, sufficiently awakened spiritually, to respond to the example of heroic non-resistance. In a world of predatory beasts absolute pacifism would be ineffective. The claim of the absolute pacifist is that all men have the capacity of gentleness, forgiveness and brotherhood, and that this capacity can be roused into action by the example of pacifism in others. I believe that in one sense this view is justified, and that the work of appealing by example and precept to the more pacific impulses of men is of very great importance; even, perhaps, in our day, of supreme importance. But though the pacific impulses of men may be roused by heroic example, they may not. Appeal to impulses of fear and hate may turn them into barbarians, into predatory beasts, into dangerous lunatics. In this case the example of non-resistance may fail to touch them, or may even infuriate them. If personal pacifism were itself the supreme end, we might stay our hands and damn the consequences. But it is not the supreme end. There are two social ends which are far more important in our day. One of them is the destruction of economic individualism, the other the establishment of a trustworthy world-authority. I do not say that violent methods are, as a matter of fact, necessary for the attainment of these ends; indeed I believe that violence nearly always does more harm than good. But if ever violence appears to be the one forlorn I defence of these aims, pacifism must be abandoned.

In private life it is a sound principle to refrain from violence under almost all circumstances. For instance, so far as possible we should leave hooligans to be dealt with by the police. But sometimes we may be called upon to aid the police; and sometimes, if the police become corrupt, or are used by anti-social powers, it may be necessary to resist them by force. Of course, in resorting to arms, even in a just cause, we inevitably do great hurt to public trust in peaceable methods and to the pacifist ideal. But a situation may arise in which such hurt would be the lesser evil.

In the international sphere there is no supreme authority, and every imperialist government is a potential hooligan. Should we, then, arm the League of Nations? If the League were a true world-authority, this might be a sound policy. But the League as it stands is no such thing. Although many of the actual members of the Assembly are earnest internationalists, the League is doomed to impotence in all serious crises, because it is controlled by the very forces which it is meant to restrain, namely the great imperialistic powers. Though the Assembly unanimously condemned Japan's invasion of Manchuria, no effort was made to restrain her. This was a crucial event in the history of our age. To its influence must be traced not only Japan's increasing contempt for the League, but the desperate truculence of Germany. To it must also be traced the widespread conviction that the League, as at present constituted, is useless. To arm the present League would merely put power and moral authority into the hands of whatever great national governments were in effective control of the League itself.

But though it would indeed be unwise to arm the League as it stands to-day, the makers of the new world must recognize the obligation to support, if necessary even by force, a properly constituted world-authority against a piratical national state, if ever such an authority is established. Even so, the resort to force would be the last, forlorn hope. Loyal citizens of the world would take up arms only when every other possible method had failed, and only with the bitter realization that in doing so, they were themselves doing grievous hurt to the very thing which they wished to defend, the civilized world.

One thing at least is clear. Those who are pledged to the making of the new world will not fight in any purely national cause. The justification for this resolve is that a national government can always, by propaganda, make its war seem righteous in the eyes of its own people, and that the actual cause of war has nearly always been economic or imperialistic rivalry. The chances are always hundreds to one that even the most plausible appeal by a national government will turn out in the end to be based on conscious or unconscious falsification.

The nations have declared by solemn treaty that they will chastise, if necessary by force, any state which attacks another state. This system seems to me impracticable, and even dangerous. When it comes to the point, national sovereign states will not sacrifice their own prosperity for the sake of public order. Further, in every serious crisis, it will be to the interest of some states actually to support the aggressor. It is too much to expect that they should take positive action in opposition to their own interests. The system may work in minor instances, but never in the great crises for which it is meant. Probably it would only work when the mass of capitalistic states felt moved to take concerted action against a socialist state which all regarded with hate. It would not be difficult to invent a casus belli. For my part, at any rate, I see no hope of abolishing war until national armaments are destroyed and a supra-national authority is given a small but effective police-force.

Meanwhile the makers of the new world will do all in their power to prevent national wars. Rather than fight in defence of any national state, they must face ridicule, contempt, imprisonment, death, and, if necessary, torture. They will preach militant pacifism, the pacifism which not merely will not take up arms, but condemns and ridicules those who do. They will scoff. at the emblems and at the instruments of national military glory, at flags, uniforms, trophies, guns, warships, military aeroplanes. They will insist that such things are but dangerous and degrading toys, attractive to puerile minds, but not to men. They will call the brave young airman, who risks his life so brilliantly to bomb enemy cities, not a hero but a stupid blundering boy, who ought to be sent back to school, to a school where his eyes would be opened. They will dub all gallant defenders of their country blockheads and cowards; blockheads for not seeing that in defending their country they impose on it the most shattering and degrading of all experiences, namely war; and cowards because they betray the best for the sake of the second best, because for the sake of mere frightened patriotism they are disloyal to the hope of the new world.

'This is all very well,' the patriot will say, 'but it simply does not apply to the world of to-day. Let us suppose that Britain alone were to disarm, and that the Nazi Government of Germany were to find it convenient to take charge of England so as to prevent anti-Nazi propaganda, and assimilate English culture to Nazi "culture". The Nazi Government has clearly proved itself to lie beyond the pale of civilization. Its treatment of its opponents has been flagrantly barbarous. Its ideals are savage. Its policy is ruinous to the cause of the new world. Should we allow all that is free and noble in England to be blotted out by Nazi thugs?'

It must be admitted that this argument strikes home. Yet I believe it is mistaken. It would be true only if the mass of German men and women were, indeed, beyond the pale of civilization. They are not. The great majority of Germans are, individually, quite as decent folk as ourselves. Complex circumstances, for which the Allies are largely responsible, have driven them into a kind of social neurosis, an exaggerated dread of seeming 'inferior', This has put them at the mercy of a ruthless gang. They are suffering from the psychological consequences of defeat and of the foolish policy of the victors; perhaps also from the fact that on the whole the sense of the ridiculous is somewhat less developed among Germans than among some other peoples.

Those who quote recent events in Germany to show that non-resistance is doomed to failure are drawing a false parallel, The failure to resist the violent methods of the Nazis was not due to pacifism but to sheer disheartenment and sheer folly, The republican government permitted the administration of law and education to remain in the hands of its opponents. It also permitted the creation of private armies.

The makers of the new world, then, will declare it a solemn duty on the part of each people to refuse to make war under any circumstances, save under supra-national command, They should declare, further, I suggest, that if a nation is attacked and invaded by a foreign nation, it would be well advised not to defend itself, but to meet invasion with non-resistance, Indeed, the time has come, they will say, when it is desirable that some great people, faced with invasion, should perform this supreme act of national heroism, should put its whole strength not into fighting the invaders but into pacific 'non-co-operation', so as to thwart them in their attempt to govern the 'conquered' country, The foreign army would enter the country; no army, no air force would oppose them, They would occupy the seat of government; no one would prevent them, but none of their decrees would be obeyed. Many of those who refused to carry out the instructions of the invaders would, of course, be shot. There would be much brutality on the part of the exasperated 'conquerors'. But you cannot in cold blood shoot a whole people. If the people was resolute, and enough individuals were ready to accept martyrdom, the foreign occupation would collapse.

No brilliant effort of imagination is needed to conceive what the moral effect of a heroic gesture of national non-resistance would be upon the attacking nation and on the rest of the world. If it were possible for a great people, or the large majority of it, to adopt this policy whole-heartedly and hold to it consistently, there can be little doubt that the effects of its action would change the whole political atmosphere of the world. I am well aware that every effort would be made by the enemies of peace to misrepresent its motives and prevent the world from knowing what had happened. But even modern methods of distortion and propaganda would be powerless to suppress so huge a fact.

There is perhaps little likelihood that anyone great people will be so much more pacifist than its neighbours that it will behave in this way. Such an act of non-resistance on the part of a whole people would need very great conviction, courage and resolution. It could only occur if in the invaded country there was a widespread and passionate allegiance to the world-aim, and a faith in the power of one brilliant example to callout the best in other peoples. If one nation had advanced to this pitch, it is probable that others, including the aggressor, would not be far behind; and that the effect of the example would be overwhelming.

Though such an act of national heroism is unlikely, we must insist that it would not be the sheer suicide which our patriots would have us believe it to be. Even from the point of view of the invaded nation, it would be much less destructive than a war of defence, and much less debasing. Even if the foreign occupation endured for a long time, which is unlikely, it would be less destructive and less debasing than a modern war.

There is surely no possibility of abolishing war until there is a far stronger and more widespread sense of the common humanity of all peoples, and of their fundamental identity of interest. Probably this sense of common humanity will not be attained in time to prevent another great disaster. But since it is essential to peace in the modem world, we must be ready to risk everything for its attainment. Caution and national self-interest having signally failed to bring real peace, we must now boldly rely on the fact that most men, so long as they are not confused by hunger or by emotional appeals to fear and hate; desire to 'live and let live'. We must propagate the far-seeing self-interest which recognizes that in no circumstances can a modem war benefit the victorious people.

We must, of course, work for the complete disarmament of all nations, and the international control of all aircraft, and the abolition of all private armament factories and armament firms. We must seek to infuse every section of every nation with the determination to act courageously and effectively, when the threat of a national war arises, in such ways as to make it impossible for its Government to open hostilities. We must try to persuade the workers to paralyse industry by a general strike. If transport and industry were to cease, war could not be maintained. We must try to include within the general strike, not only the proletariat, but also the middle class. We must try to make it clear, long before an actual occasion for war arises, that the war-machine simply cannot be put in action, because those on whom it depends will not play their part in it. But more anxiously we must work continuously for mutual trust and loyalty among the peoples, and for the creation in each people of so strong a will to peace that the machinations of armament firms and politicians will be ineffective.

Unfortunately, as we have already noted, the most deep-rooted cause of war is probably not economic nor political, nor even 'tribal'. It lies in the fact that the great majority of normal and kindly persons have acquired in youth strong though unconscious needs for hate and cruelty. It is from these secret cravings that war scares and war itself gain that crazy passion which is impervious to reason. The makers of the new world will strive to lay bare the root of this widespread insanity, and to work for the removal of its causes in the circumstances of the lives of the young. This is part of the needed revolution in education.

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C. DEMOCRACY, FREE SPEECH, THE WORLD-STATE

Let us now turn to the problem of democracy. In our day democracy, government of the people for the people by the people, is falling into disrepute. The makers of the new world will insist that in one sense democracy is essential, in another impossible. It is essential because a government which has not the approval of the people cannot help the people to fullness of life. Whatever it does, the people will resist. Moreover, since human nature is far from perfect, any government which does not depend ultimately on the expressed will of the people, is certain to lose touch with the people, is certain to consider itself the only true interpreter of the popular will, when as a matter of fact it has become incapable of imagining what the people really needs. On the other hand, and in another sense, democracy is impossible. It is impossible because a government which is merely the slave of an ill-informed and ever-shifting public opinion will not be able to govern at all. Democracy, then, is essential in the sense that sound government must depend on the general approval of the people; impossible if it means that all initiative should come from the public, and that every detail of executive government should be expressly sanctioned by the people.

Even against democracy in the former sense a serious case may be stated. It may be argued, plausibly but dangerously, that popular decree, even as to what the aims of government should be, is only salutary for a people or a world that has awakened so far as to be intelligently loyal to the world-aim. For less awakened peoples, such as the most civilized that actually exist, democracy must be tempered to the degree of their backwardness, lest through stupidity or malice they harm themselves or one another.

No people of the world to-day, it may be said, is fit for true democracy, since all are composed chiefly of mental cripples, who, at least in public matters, lack intelligence, knowledge and generosity. They cannot yet appreciate the true aim of government. Nor can they appreciate the intricacies of practical economic and political problems. Most even of the best citizens are bound to be incompetent politically, since they are absorbed (quite rightly) in their own special work, and have not the experience necessary for understanding complex matters in other spheres.

There is force in this argument against democracy. But the answer to it is that, bad as democracy is in a world that is not more than half-awakened, no other kind of government is in the long run compatible with the true political aim, namely the free development of human personality. If the would-be makers of the new world think to achieve their end by any method of government which is essentially undemocratic, they deceive themselves. Democracy, in the broadest sense, is a necessary factor in the world-aim. It is, of course, possible that in revolutionary crises a socially minded minority, in order to oust from power another and tyrannical minority which has annihilated all expression of popular will, may have to seize control of the body politic and govern for a brief spell without the positive backing of popular will. But when it has achieved its end and put the people once more into a position to have a will, it must itself abide by the popular decision, or be untrue to the world aim.

Further, though in one sense the half-awakened peoples of to-day are, indeed, incapable of true democracy, in that they have not attained the necessary wisdom, their governing is after all their concern, and not the privilege of any self-appointed caste or individual. Even those who have the true world-aim clearly in view must be content to accept the dictates of popular will, however misguided it may be. All they can do is to try to influence the popular will. Government must be carried out not by force but by persuasion. The best that can happen to any people of the present world is that a minority who have the true world-aim at heart, and great skill in governing, shall be able to educate and persuade the people intelligently to accept the true world-aim and the general lines of policy which follow from it; so that this enlightened people may support its governors whole-heartedly in the task of making the new world, and also be ready to overthrow them if at last they fall from grace.

Effective democracy is impossible without universal freedom to state facts and express opinions. The people that is to govern itself or to exercise enlightened democratic control over its rulers must be well informed about the conditions of the world in which it lives, about all varieties of opinion among its members, and all arguments bearing on the general aim and detailed policy of government. No democracy that is not in this sense an educated democracy can avoid being misled by demagogues.

It is often said that at least ideas harmful to the State or offensive to the moral sense of the community should be suppressed. The answer to this view is simple. In the first place, ideas cannot be permanently suppressed by force. They may, indeed, be driven underground for a while, as they were in Russia, but sooner or later they will either die of their own inherent folly or triumph through their own inherent sanity or rightness. During their sojourn underground they will inevitably become tainted with unnecessary hate and extravagance, so that when they do emerge they will be more dangerous and less true than formerly. On the other hand, if they are not suppressed, either they will succumb to the fire of criticism, or they will withstand criticism and even be strengthened by it, till they become incorporated in the theory and practice of the community.

who have the true world-aim clearly in view must be content to accept the dictates of popular will, however misguided it may be. All they can do is to try to influence the popular will. Government must be carried out not by force but by persuasion. The best that can happen to any people of the present world is that a minority who have the true world-aim at heart, and great skill in governing, shall be able to educate and persuade the people intelligently to accept the true world-aim and the general lines of policy which follow from it; so that this enlightened people may support its governors whole-heartedly in the task of making the new world, and also be ready to overthrow them if at last they fall from grace.

Effective democracy is impossible without universal freedom to state facts and express opinions. The people that is to govern itself or to exercise enlightened democratic control over its rulers must be well informed about the conditions of the world in which it lives, about all varieties of opinion among its members, and all arguments bearing on the general aim and detailed policy of government. No democracy that is not in this sense an educated democracy can avoid being misled by demagogues.

It is often said that at least ideas harmful to the State or offensive to the moral sense of the community should be suppressed. The answer to this view is simple. In the first place, ideas cannot be permanently suppressed by force. They may, indeed, be driven underground for a while, as they were in Russia, but sooner or later they will either die of their own inherent folly or triumph through their own inherent sanity or rightness. During their sojourn underground they will inevitably become tainted with unnecessary hate and extravagance, so that when they do emerge they will be more dangerous and less true than formerly. On the other hand, if they are not suppressed, either they will succumb to the fire of criticism, or they will withstand criticism and even be strengthened by it, till they become incorporated in the theory and practice of the community.

All this is obviously true of an educated democracy. In a half-civilized community, such as even the most enlightened of modern nations, ideas which do not deserve acceptance may, in fact, be spread by emotional propaganda, and in the same way sound ideas may be defeated. But even in such a community the frequent miscarriage of free expression is no justification for its abolition or partial limitation. The most urgent of all needs is to create an educated democracy, and this can only be done by permitting absolute freedom of expression. The cure for the ills of our present partial freedom of expression is not less freedom but more. The business of gulling the public depends on the fact that only certain kinds of ideas, and not others, can secure full publicity through the Press and the radio.

Freedom of expression in our day involves freedom of private and public speech, freedom of the Press, add freedom of broadcasting. At the moment, and as the result of past struggles, we have in this country much freedom of private and even public speech. But we need much more. In respect of the Press our freedom is limited not only by law but also by the will of editors who fear to offend advertisers and readers. With books there is less restriction, since publishers do not depend on advertisers; but here again the government may intervene to suppress what it deems objectionable from the moral or political point of view. The case of broad-casting is, of course, different from the others. Since time and wave-lengths are limited, everything cannot be broadcast. But clearly the ideal is to give fair samples of every shade of opinion, and not only of opinion convenient to the government or the dominant class.

The principle that the law should, in any of these mediums, prevent the expression of ideas which the government considers indecent, immoral or subversive is entirely false. If morality and decency are so insecure that they will really be shaken by free speech, they cannot be deeply founded in the popular will, and are not worth preserving. If a government seeks to limit the expression of seditious views, this must mean either that it doubts whether it can produce sound arguments against them, or that it is conscious of widespread and violent discontent with its rule. In this case, as in all others, it should allow criticism to express itself.

Since every government is inevitably tempted to use its power for the suppression of criticism of its actions and of the 'ideology' on which it depends, the principle of free expression needs to be supported by some kind of permanent authority independent of the government of the moment, in the sense in which the legal system is supposed to be independent. Such an authority would no doubt be difficult to constitute; but it would not, I believe, be impossible, and it might be very beneficial. It would have to be autonomous, though financed by the State, as is the case with the judicature. Its function would be to detect, and bring to light, and ensure the correction of, all cases in which the principle of free expression had been violated, in whatever medium and by whatever power, whether governmental or private. On the other hand, it would also have the difficult task of exposing all false statements of fact, and ensuring public recantation by their perpetrators. In this connexion it would have to attack all flagrant cases in which misrepresentation had been achieved by suppression of relevant data. Here no doubt it would encounter very great difficulties. In all border-line cases it would content itself with publishing its own version of the facts, without exacting penalties from the offender. In the case of an offending journal it would have the right to compel the publication of its own version in that journal itself.

To be at all effective, such a 'Publicity Authority' or 'Universal Devil's Advocate' would have to be very carefully formed. Its officers throughout the country, or throughout the world, would have to constitute a highly trained profession with very strong esprit de corps and loyalty to the ideals of their profession. They should work in co-operation with special local councils of representatives from every section of the community. No doubt the launching of such an Authority would be very precarious, and might prove not merely ineffective but damaging. On the other hand, if the critical early stage could be successfully passed, the Authority would gain public confidence, and might soon become an invaluable instrument for the advancement of enlightenment and true democracy.

In this and in many other ways the orthodox machinery of democracy needs to be either supplemented or re- modelled. It may be, for instance, that the familiar kind of parliamentary government is too clumsy to serve the purposes of a great modem state. Its failure is clearly responsible for the widespread revulsion from democracy. But another and more satisfactory kind of democratic machinery may be possible. Indeed, such a one is perhaps in the act of being discovered. Though the present Soviet system in Russia and the Corporate State in Italy and Germany are certainly in practice far from democratic, they are democratic in principle, and could be used at any time as instruments of popular will. It is possible that some such hierarchy of elected councils, serving special purposes, and co-ordinated by a supreme council of representatives of the special councils themselves, may form the main democratic. machinery of the future. On the other hand, it is possible that, for this country at any rate, it would be sufficient to improve and speed up the procedure of parliament without seriously altering its constitution.

It goes without saying that the makers of the new world will demand the abolition of the sovereignty of national states and the setting up of a world-state. To-day this ideal still seems very remote. Few desire it. Each people fears that a world-government would oppress it more than its own national government, and would tend to obliterate its distinctive culture, and in short neglect all its special interests. No people cares seriously about the welfare of other peoples, and consequently every people fears to surrender any jot of its independence to a world-government which might become the tool of its enemies.

But the pressure of circumstances is driving the world steadily, though slowly, toward a world-state. Already national sovereignty is being limited piecemeal by international agreements, boards, conferences for special purposes. Unfortunately such piecemeal limitation cannot be effective so long as there are national armaments. And national armaments will never be abolished till there is a general and insistent will for a world-state.

World-unity, and the establishment of the world-state, need not harm the distinctiveness of national cultures, which is the only valuable thing about nationality. For the full life of the world, diversity of local culture is as necessary as diversity of individual minds. But, as with individuals, so with national groups, diversity must always be co-operative diversity, not exclusive diversity, always such as the diverse individuals or groups can appreciate in one another. The ideal is the diversity of intimate friends, not the diversity of strangers. Friends may have very great diversity and yet be able to enrich one another. Strangers may happen to be at heart very similar; and yet if their similarity consists partly in being self-centred, conceited, secretive and suspicious, they will never understand one another. Under a trusted world-authority, probably of a federal type, national diversity might actually be more, not less, appreciated and cherished.

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D. THE EDUCATIONAL REVOLUTION

Militaristic nationalism has its roots in the two great causes of all our present troubles, namely bad economic organization and bad education.

These two causes support one another. Bad economic organization is, of course, an expression of economic individualism, which was brought about by the complex I and far-reaching changes of the last few centuries. But also, in our own day, economic individualism and militant nationalism are driven into the minds of men by bad education.

Bad education has two causes. One cause is the fact that the actual form of education is an expression, in the last resort, of the unconscious assumptions of the economic masters, who cherish material power and put their faith in economic individualism and economic nationalism. The other cause of bad education is the fact that, owing to our bad economic system, the great majority of individuals have to become wage-slaves, and consequently have no use for any kind of education but that which will help them to earn good wages.

It is impossible to change education radically without changing the economic system, without wresting power from the economic masters who control education, and without abolishing the whole system of wage-slavery. Even if violent revolution could achieve this end, it alone could not sufficiently change the spirit of education. It might no doubt abolish the institutions which favour economic individualism, but the faith in material power, and the limitations of the mechanic's mentality, would remain.

Without a profound change in education, not only in schools and colleges, but in homes, and also in all the influences which mould the minds of adults themselves, there is no hope whatever of founding the new world, or even the purely economic system of the new world. Economic causes direct the course of history, but they work through the operation of thought and propaganda. The only way in which, in our day, a better economic system can be devised is by the deliberation of original minds. The only way in which it can be established is by creating a widespread will for it; and this is only to be done by propaganda, which must consist of reasonable persuasion and emotional appeal.

The educational principles of a community are very deeply influenced by the economic conditions of the community. But an economic system which is collapsing produces the need not only for a new economic system but also for new educational principles suited to that system. And these will not arise simply by automatic action; they must be worked out by thought in relation to changing circumstances, and spread by propaganda. But such propaganda will be entirely ineffective unless at the same time steps are taken actually to change the economic system of the world.

It is easy to see the main features of the educational policy which the makers of the new world must advocate. It is very difficult to persuade the world to adopt this policy. These fundamental educational principles, which seem obvious to some men and fantastic to others, may be stated as follows.

The supreme aim of education should be to develop to the full the capacity for awakened personality in each member of the community. This involves developing him as a healthy animal, and as an intelligent and imaginative human being, at once courageously independent in thought, and in action constantly loyal to the world-aim. He must be inspired with a passion to come face to face with reality, however formidable it may prove, and to adjust appropriately thereto all his desires, all his acts, the whole course of his life.

Education, in the fullest sense, should be regarded as the most important of all kinds of work in the world-community after the provision of the necessities of bodily life. Indeed, there is a sense in which education is more important even than agriculture and industry. A well-educated world will be able to satisfy its bodily needs; but a badly educated world, however well equipped for industry and agriculture, will fall into class strife and nationalistic strife. And the greater its power, the more will it torture itself.

No profession should be more honoured or more carefully fostered than the teaching profession. For on the teachers, of all kinds, depends the intellectual and moral calibre of the world population. And on this depends everything. The profession must therefore be recruited only from individuals of the finest quality who have also the special gift of the teacher. These must be attracted to the profession, and not, as at present, driven into less important but more honoured or better-paid work, such as industry ,or law or medicine.

Since the education of future citizens is so overwhelmingly important, no expense should be grudged. The vast sums now spent on armaments might all be transferred to education. The sanity of a community may be roughly measured by the proportion of its income which it assigns to genuine education. By genuine education I mean not merely vocational training, but education for the development of personality.

Premises should be large and well equipped. Classes should be very small. Teaching should be based on minute psychological and physiological research. Every child in the world should have access to a school where he will be dealt with by highly trained teachers using the most efficient apparatus. Everything must be done to make the young people of the world realize that the world-community regards them as its most precious possession, and that they themselves have a supreme duty to develop their powers for the glory of the community. Every child, before leaving school, should be subjected to very careful study by teachers, psychologists and physiologists, so that his particular powers may be ascertained, and he may be advised as to what kind of career would best suit him. At the same time he should be given accurate information as to the actual openings in the life of the world for his particular powers.

The control of the educational system of the world must be with the educators themselves, subject to the final control of the world-government. It must not lie with wealthy patrons, or fumbling city councils, or religious societies, or church dignitaries, or trade unions. Only the educators can know what is desirable in education. And since education is not merely a means but, in a manner, the supreme purpose of the world-community, the educators should be given greater autonomy than arty other profession.

Since in early childhood the mind is given a set or direction which will last till death, the education of young children, whether by parents or others, will have to be very carefully supervised. Bad homes make bad children, and bad citizens of the world.

All education should have a twofold aim, namely to fit the individual for his work in the world, and to make the most of him as a personality. From the point of view of the individual himself, and equally from the point of view of the world, both these aims are necessary. For his own well-being he must have work, and also he must become as alive a personality as possible. For the world's sake also he must have work; and that he may be an intelligent and responsible citizen, he must develop his personality. If people are not properly trained for their work, they will be incompetent, and the world will suffer. If they are not helped to develop all their capacities, and to be interested in all the many sides of the world's living, and to appreciate and cherish the world-aim, they will be a danger to the world. Hitherto, such education as has been given has been essentially education for work and for social obedience. Henceforth, owing to the influence of economic change, education may and, indeed, must be dominated by the need to equip all men for the fullest possible use of their leisure, and the development of their personalities.

Some still maintain that only a few should be allowed to grow into full personality, and that the masses should be trained merely to be docile and efficient slaves with as little high-grade capacity as possible. But the aim which the makers of the new world hold in view is that all 'soul-destroying' drudgery may be performed by machines. Even in our day all human beings should be educated to be true citizens of the world, understanding the general pattern of the world's life, and accepting gladly the world-aim.

In schools and colleges, though much time must necessarily be given to training young people for their work, the main guiding principle should be to develop them as personalities and help them to become not merely docile but independent, intelligent and responsible citizens of the world. The disorder of the modem world is not due to lack of vocational training, but to lack of true education.

The first and the last aim of true education is to help the future citizens of the world to experience vividly, zestfully, in many spheres, to think about their experience honestly and accurately, and to will sanely, distinguishing between less important and more important ends.

The makers of the new world will therefore clamour for an educational system such that in all schools and colleges the whole curriculum will be arranged so as to broaden and deepen experience. The future citizens must be helped to have precise and zestful sense-perceptions, and a vigorous bodily life. They must live intensely in the present moment. But also they must keep a firm hold on the past, and look far forward into the future. And above all they must become fearless thinkers, receptive and also critical, critical both of themselves and of others.

The whole of education in home and school and college must be inspired and controlled by the world-aim. The child and the young man and woman must be helped to wake into understanding and devotion to the great human enterprise. They must come to feel that they are entering into a great heritage which is not merely national but human; and that, with whatever power they can discover in themselves, they must live to enrich that heritage, advance that enterprise. Both vocational training and general education should be quickened by this supreme idea.

It is often said that propaganda should be eliminated from education. This is true in one sense but false in another. It is both impossible and undesirable to exclude from the educational system of the community the fundamental assumptions or principles (often unconscious) on which the community's whole social policy depends. In practice all educational systems are inevitably given a bias, subtle or obvious. It is dishonest to pretend that a bias is not given when in fact it is. Also it would be folly to entrust the education of future citizens to persons definitely out of sympathy with the basic assumptions of the community.

This contention needs to be carefully qualified. It is certainly the right policy to put all points of view forward with equal frankness, and to have them expressed by persons who sincerely and even passionately believe in them. No views on any subject whatever should be suppressed. Pupils must be urged to use their own intelligence and to judge for themselves. But two extremely important facts have to be taken into account. The first is that opinion is formed very largely by emotional appeal, and not merely by reason. The second important fact is this. The less awakened, less distinctively human attitude or opinion is apt to be much easier to adopt than the more awakened. The one arises out of the simpler and more firmly established mental reactions, the other demands a certain mental and spiritual strain. Consequently, it is very important to see that, though barbaric views are allowed full expression, pupils are definitely helped, both intellectually and emotionally, to attain the more civilized, more awakened view.

But though in this limited sense it is desirable to give education a bias toward the most awakened mentality possible to the community, it is extremely important also to see that the young are not simply indoctrinated with a certain detailed set of theories and arguments, even the right ones, and prevented from having access to others. This danger may be avoided by insisting, in season and out of season, that the first duty of all teachers is to instil in their pupils an indefatigable will to be intellectually independent, and to do justice to every point of view, and to criticize intelligently and fearlessly everything that is put before them, even the most sacred principles of the community.

Such are the general principles of a sound educational policy. This is not the place to discuss the application of these principles in detail. One or two outstanding points, however, should be mentioned.

In order that national illusions may be abolished, the history text-books of each nation should be supervised by a committee of the historians of the world. Where agreement is impossible, opposed versions must be given. History should be so taught as to show the growing economic interdependence of the world, and the cultural unity which underlies all cultural differences. It should be made clear that the differences between the peoples are due far more to traditional upbringing than to innate characteristics. The future citizen must discover that each people is, or should be, enriched by every other people, not only economically by trade, but culturally by the interchange of ideas between peoples which, though fundamentally in accord, are also arrestingly diverse.

Provision should be made for the young to travel in foreign countries as much as possible so that they may begin to appreciate to some extent the style of life and thought, the language and literature and art, of foreign peoples. This intercourse of the young of all peoples might be very greatly helped by broadcasting and by the cinema. Wars may be caused in part by the cupidity of powerful individuals, but its main cause is fear in the minds of the populace, fear of the supposedly alien mentality of foreign peoples. This fear is rooted in ignorance. The more we foster intercourse between the young of the various nations, the more mutual understanding will there be, and therefore the less fear and the less possibility of war.

If the young are to appreciate foreign cultures, they must begin by appreciating their own. And in any case this is one of the main purposes of education. All those who have the necessary modicum of intelligence and sensibility must be enticed into certain regions of contemporary and past literature. But the makers of the new world will urge that literature should not be propounded as a body of sacred texts to be saluted by insincere gestures of veneration. It should be used as grist for the exercise of intelligence and discrimination, as a means of insight into human personality, and of exploration into the subtler characteristics of all that men experience.

Literature must also be used to elicit aesthetic appreciation. But music and the plastic arts should be no less encouraged. Some hold that art is to be appreciated only by a few, and that the introduction of art into general education is useless, and likely to lead to insincerity and cant. No doubt the finer kinds of aesthetic experience are only for a few; but with proper treatment many are capable of this most awakening experience at least to some extent. And not only for their own sakes, but for the sanity of the community, it is extremely important that the artistic point of view should be fostered. This is, indeed, particularly important because science must inevitably play so large a part in modern education. The young human being must somehow be helped both to feel and to see intellectually the limitations of the contemporary scientific attitude. He must be led to regard science neither simply as a means to power for power's sake, nor as absolute truth, but as a first sketch of a single aspect of the universe, and as a dangerous technique, which ought to be a powerful instrument for the making of the new world. He should, of course, be given an account of the world as it is tentatively revealed by science, of the vastness and intricacy of the physical universe, and of the story of the evolution of life on the earth. He must be helped to see the whole adventure of man as a brief, precarious, but glorious, movement in that longer story

If education all over the world were carried out strictly according to these principles, the mentality of the whole world would be profoundly changed within half a century. Or rather, this would happen only if, along with educational reform, we could accomplish an equally radical economic reform. However well educated the young might be, if, when they went out into the world, they found that society would not make use of them, and would not guarantee them the means for fullness of life, their sense of frustration would poison them. In rage and indignation they would condemn society, and be tempted to listen to any demagogue who promised to lead them into a new world by merely refurbishing or merely destroying the old one.

Chapter 15

Chapter 13

Waking World Contents