FUNDAMENTAL NOTIONS
OF THE FOLKWAYS
AND OF THE MORES
1. Definition and mode of origin
of the folkways. If we put together all that we have
learned from anthropology and ethnography about primitive
men and primitive society, we perceive that the first
task of life is to live. Men begin with acts,
not with thoughts. Every moment brings necessities
which must be satisfied at once. Need was the
first experience, and it was followed at once by a
blundering effort to satisfy it. It is generally
taken for granted that men inherited some guiding
instincts from their beast ancestry, and it may be
true, although it has never been proved. If there
were such inheritances, they controlled and aided
the first efforts to satisfy needs. Analogy makes
it easy to assume that the ways of beasts had produced
channels of habit and predisposition along which dexterities
and other psychophysical activities would run easily.
Experiments with newborn animals show that in the
absence of any experience of the relation of means
to ends, efforts to satisfy needs are clumsy and blundering.
The method is that of trial and failure, which produces
repeated pain, loss, and disappointments. Nevertheless,
it is a method of rude experiment and selection.
The earliest efforts of men were of this kind.
Need was the impelling force. Pleasure and pain,
on the one side and the other, were the rude constraints
which defined the line on which efforts must proceed.
The ability to distinguish between pleasure and pain
is the only psychical power which is to be assumed.
Thus ways of doing things were selected, which were
expedient. They answered the purpose better than
other ways, or with less toil and pain. Along
the course on which efforts were compelled to go,
habit, routine, and skill were developed. The
struggle to maintain existence was carried on, not
individually, but in groups. Each profited by
the other’s experience; hence there was concurrence
towards that which proved to be most expedient.
All at last adopted the same way for the same purpose;
hence the ways turned into customs and became mass
phenomena. Instincts were developed in connection
with them. In this way folkways arise. The
young learn them by tradition, imitation, and authority.
The folkways, at a time, provide for all the needs
of life then and there. They are uniform, universal
in the group, imperative, and invariable. As
time goes on, the folkways become more and more arbitrary,
positive, and imperative. If asked why they act
in a certain way in certain cases, primitive people
always answer that it is because they and their ancestors
always have done so. A sanction also arises from
ghost fear. The ghosts of ancestors would be
angry if the living should change the ancient folkways
(see se.
2. The folkways are a societal
force. The operation by which folkways are produced
consists in the frequent repetition of petty acts,
often by great numbers acting in concert or, at least,
acting in the same way when face to face with the
same need. The immediate motive is interest.
It produces habit in the individual and custom in the
group. It is, therefore, in the highest degree
original and primitive. By habit and custom it
exerts a strain on every individual within its range;
therefore it rises to a societal force to which great
classes of societal phenomena are due. Its earliest
stages, its course, and laws may be studied; also
its influence on individuals and their reaction on
it. It is our present purpose so to study it.
We have to recognize it as one of the chief forces
by which a society is made to be what it is. Out
of the unconscious experiment which every repetition
of the ways includes, there issues pleasure or pain,
and then, so far as the men are capable of reflection,
convictions that the ways are conducive to societal
welfare. These two experiences are not the same.
The most uncivilized men, both in the food quest and
in war, do things which are painful, but which have
been found to be expedient. Perhaps these cases
teach the sense of social welfare better than those
which are pleasurable and favorable to welfare.
The former cases call for some intelligent reflection
on experience. When this conviction as to the
relation to welfare is added to the folkways they are
converted into mores, and, by virtue of the philosophical
and ethical element added to them, they win utility
and importance and become the source of the science
and the art of living.
3. Folkways are made unconsciously.
It is of the first importance to notice that, from
the first acts by which men try to satisfy needs, each
act stands by itself, and looks no further than the
immediate satisfaction. From recurrent needs
arise habits for the individual and customs for the
group, but these results are consequences which were
never conscious, and never foreseen or intended.
They are not noticed until they have long existed,
and it is still longer before they are appreciated.
Another long time must pass, and a higher stage of
mental development must be reached, before they can
be used as a basis from which to deduce rules for
meeting, in the future, problems whose pressure can
be foreseen. The folkways, therefore, are not
creations of human purpose and wit. They are
like products of natural forces which men unconsciously
set in operation, or they are like the instinctive
ways of animals, which are developed out of experience,
which reach a final form of maximum adaptation to
an interest, which are handed down by tradition and
admit of no exception or variation, yet change to meet
new conditions, still within the same limited methods,
and without rational reflection or purpose. From
this it results that all the life of human beings,
in all ages and stages of culture, is primarily controlled
by a vast mass of folkways handed down from the earliest
existence of the race, having the nature of the ways
of other animals, only the topmost layers of which
are subject to change and control, and have been somewhat
modified by human philosophy, ethics, and religion,
or by other acts of intelligent reflection. We
are told of savages that “It is difficult to
exhaust the customs and small ceremonial usages of
a savage people. Custom regulates the whole of
a man’s actions, his bathing, washing,
cutting his hair, eating, drinking, and fasting.
From his cradle to his grave he is the slave of ancient
usage. In his life there is nothing free, nothing
original, nothing spontaneous, no progress towards
a higher and better life, and no attempt to improve
his condition, mentally, morally, or spiritually."
All men act in this way with only a little wider margin
of voluntary variation.
4. Impulse and instinct.
Primeval stupidity. Magic. “The mores
(Sitten) rest on feelings of pleasure or pain,
which either directly produce actions or call out
desires which become causes of action." “Impulse
is not an attribute of living creatures, like instinct.
The only phenomenon to which impulse applies is that
men and other animals imitate what they see others,
especially of their own species, do, and that they
accomplish this imitation the more easily, the more
their forefathers practiced the same act. The
thing imitated, therefore, must already exist, and
cannot be explained as an impulse.” “As
soon as instinct ceased to be sole ruler of living
creatures, including inchoate man, the latter must
have made mistakes in the struggle for existence which
would soon have finished his career, but that he had
instinct and the imitation of what existed to guide
him. This human primeval stupidity is the ultimate
ground of religion and art, for both come without
any interval, out of the magic which is the immediate
consequence of the struggle for existence when it goes
beyond instinct.” “If we want to
determine the origin of dress, if we want to define
social relations and achievements, e.g. the origin
of marriage, war, agriculture, cattle breeding, etc.,
if we want to make studies in the psyche of nature
peoples, we must always pass through magic
and belief in magic. One who is weak in magic,
e.g. a ritually unclean man, has a ‘bad
body,’ and reaches no success. Primitive
men, on the other hand, win their success by means
of their magical power and their magical preparations,
and hence become ‘the noble and good.’
For them there is no other morality [than this success].
Even the technical dexterities have certainly not
been free from the influence of belief in magic."
5. The strain of improvement
and consistency. The folkways, being ways of satisfying
needs, have succeeded more or less well, and therefore
have produced more or less pleasure or pain. Their
quality always consisted in their adaptation to the
purpose. If they were imperfectly adapted and
unsuccessful, they produced pain, which drove men on
to learn better. The folkways are, therefore,
(1) subject to a strain of improvement towards better
adaptation of means to ends, as long as the adaptation
is so imperfect that pain is produced. They are
also (2) subject to a strain of consistency with each
other, because they all answer their several purposes
with less friction and antagonism when they cooperate
and support each other. The forms of industry,
the forms of the family, the notions of property,
the constructions of rights, and the types of religion
show the strain of consistency with each other through
the whole history of civilization. The two great
cultural divisions of the human race are the oriental
and the occidental. Each is consistent throughout;
each has its own philosophy and spirit; they are separated
from top to bottom by different mores, different standpoints,
different ways, and different notions of what societal
arrangements are advantageous. In their contrast
they keep before our minds the possible range of divergence
in the solution of the great problems of human life,
and in the views of earthly existence by which life
policy may be controlled. If two planets were
joined in one, their inhabitants could not differ
more widely as to what things are best worth seeking,
or what ways are most expedient for well living.
6. The aleatory interest. If
we should try to find a specimen society in which
expedient ways of satisfying needs and interests were
found by trial and failure, and by long selection
from experience, as broadly described in se above,
it might be impossible to find one. Such a practical
and utilitarian mode of procedure, even when mixed
with ghost sanction, is rationalistic. It would
not be suited to the ways and temper of primitive
men. There was an element in the most elementary
experience which was irrational and defied all expedient
methods. One might use the best known means with
the greatest care, yet fail of the result. On
the other hand, one might get a great result with no
effort at all. One might also incur a calamity
without any fault of his own. This was the aleatory
element in life, the element of risk and loss, good
or bad fortune. This element is never absent from
the affairs of men. It has greatly influenced
their life philosophy and policy. On one side,
good luck may mean something for nothing, the extreme
case of prosperity and felicity. On the other
side, ill luck may mean failure, loss, calamity, and
disappointment, in spite of the most earnest and well-planned
endeavor. The minds of men always dwell more on
bad luck. They accept ordinary prosperity as
a matter of course. Misfortunes arrest their
attention and remain in their memory.
Hence the ills of life are the mode
of manifestation of the aleatory element which has
most affected life policy. Primitive men ascribed
all incidents to the agency of men or of ghosts and
spirits. Good and ill luck were attributed to
the superior powers, and were supposed to be due to
their pleasure or displeasure at the conduct of men.
This group of notions constitutes goblinism.
It furnishes a complete world philosophy. The
element of luck is always present in the struggle for
existence. That is why primitive men never could
carry on the struggle for existence, disregarding
the aleatory element and employing a utilitarian method
only. The aleatory element has always been the
connecting link between the struggle for existence
and religion. It was only by religious rites
that the aleatory element in the struggle for existence
could be controlled. The notions of ghosts, demons,
another world, etc., were all fantastic.
They lacked all connection with facts, and were arbitrary
constructions put upon experience. They were poetic
and developed by poetic construction and imaginative
deduction. The nexus between them and events
was not cause and effect, but magic. They therefore
led to delusive deductions in regard to life and its
meaning, which entered into subsequent action as guiding
faiths, and imperative notions about the conditions
of success. The authority of religion and that
of custom coalesced into one indivisible obligation.
Therefore the simple statement of experiment and expediency
in the first paragraph above is not derived directly
from actual cases, but is a product of analysis and
inference. It must also be added that vanity and
ghost fear produced needs which man was as eager to
satisfy as those of hunger or the family. Folkways
resulted for the former as well as for the latter
(see se.
7. All origins are lost in mystery.
No objection can lie against this postulate about
the way in which folkways began, on account of the
element of inference in it. All origins are lost
in mystery, and it seems vain to hope that from any
origin the veil of mystery will ever be raised.
We go up the stream of history to the utmost point
for which we have evidence of its course. Then
we are forced to reach out into the darkness upon
the line of direction marked by the remotest course
of the historic stream. This is the way in which
we have to act in regard to the origin of capital,
language, the family, the state, religion, and rights.
We never can hope to see the beginning of any one of
these things. Use and wont are products and results.
They had antecedents. We never can find or see
the first member of the series. It is only by
analysis and inference that we can form any conception
of the “beginning” which we are always
so eager to find.
8. Spencer on primitive custom.
Spencer says that “guidance by custom, which
we everywhere find amongst rude peoples, is the sole
conceivable guidance at the outset.” Custom
is the product of concurrent action through time.
We find it existent and in control at the extreme
reach of our investigations. Whence does it begin,
and how does it come to be? How can it give guidance
“at the outset”? All mass actions
seem to begin because the mass wants to act together.
The less they know what it is right and best to do,
the more open they are to suggestion from an incident
in nature, or from a chance act of one, or from the
current doctrines of ghost fear. A concurrent
drift begins which is subject to later correction.
That being so, it is evident that instinctive action,
under the guidance of traditional folkways, is an operation
of the first importance in all societal matters.
Since the custom never can be antecedent to all action,
what we should desire most is to see it arise out
of the first actions, but, inasmuch as that is impossible,
the course of the action after it is started is our
field of study. The origin of primitive customs
is always lost in mystery, because when the action
begins the men are never conscious of historical action,
or of the historical importance of what they are doing.
When they become conscious of the historical importance
of their acts, the origin is already far behind.
9. Good and bad luck; ills of life;
goodness and happiness. There are in nature numerous
antagonistic forces of growth or production and
destruction. The interests of man are between
the two and may be favored or ruined by either.
Correct knowledge of both is required to get the
advantages and escape the injuries. Until
the knowledge becomes adequate the effects which are
encountered appear to be accidents or cases of luck.
There is no thrift in nature. There is rather
waste. Human interests require thrift, selection,
and preservation. Capital is the condition precedent
of all gain in security and power, and capital is
produced by selection and thrift. It is threatened
by all which destroys material goods. Capital
is therefore the essential means of man’s
power over nature, and it implies the purest concept
of the power of intelligence to select and dispose
of the processes of nature for human welfare.
All the earliest efforts in this direction were
blundering failures. Men selected things to be
desired and preserved under impulses of vanity and
superstition, and misconceived utility and interest.
The errors entered into the folkways, formed a
part of them, and were protected by them. Error,
accident, and luck seem to be the only sense there
is in primitive life. Knowledge alone limits
their sway, and at least changes the range and
form of their dominion. Primitive folkways are
marked by improvidence, waste, and carelessness, out
of which prudence, foresight, patience, and perseverance
are developed slowly, by pain and loss, as experience
is accumulated, and knowledge increases also, as
better methods seem worth while. The consequences
of error and the effects of luck were always mixed.
As we have seen, the ills of life were connected
with the displeasure of the ghosts. Per contra,
conduct which conformed to the will of the ghosts
was goodness, and was supposed to bring blessing
and prosperity. Thus a correlation was established,
in the faith of men, between goodness and happiness,
and on that correlation an art of happiness was
built. It consisted in a faithful performance
of rites of respect towards superior powers and
in the use of lucky times, places, words, etc.,
with avoidance of unlucky ones. All uncivilized
men demand and expect a specific response.
Inasmuch as they did not get it, and indeed the
art of happiness always failed of results, the great
question of world philosophy always has been, What
is the real relation between happiness and goodness?
It is only within a few generations that men have
found courage to say that there is none. The
whole strength of the notion that they are correlated
is in the opposite experience which proves that
no evil thing brings happiness. The oldest
religious literature consists of formulas of worship
and prayer by which devotion and obedience were
to produce satisfaction of the gods, and win favor
and prosperity for men. The words “ill”
and “evil” have never yet thrown off
the ambiguity between wickedness and calamity.
The two ideas come down to us allied or combined.
It was the rites which were the object of tradition,
not the ideas which they embodied.
10. Illustrations. The notions
of blessing and curse are subsequent explanations
by men of great cases of prosperity or calamity
which came to their knowledge. Then the myth-building
imagination invented stories of great virtue or
guilt to account for the prosperity or calamity.
The Greek notion of the Nemesis was an inference
from observation of good and ill fortune in life.
Great popular interest attached to the stories of
Croesus and Polycrates. The latter, after all
his glory and prosperity, was crucified by the
satrap of Lydia. Croesus had done all that
man could do, according to the current religion, to
conciliate the gods and escape ill fortune.
He was very pious and lived by the rules of religion.
The story is told in different forms. “The
people could not make up their minds that a prince
who had been so liberal to the gods during his prosperity
had been abandoned by them at the moment when he
had the greatest need of their aid." They said
that he expiated the crime of his ancestor Gyges,
who usurped the throne; that is, they found it
necessary to adduce some guilt to account for the facts,
and they introduced the notion of hereditary responsibility.
Another story was that he determined to sacrifice
all his wealth to the gods. He built a funeral
pyre of it all and mounted it himself, but rain
extinguished it. The gods were satisfied.
Croesus afterwards enjoyed the friendship of Cyros,
which was good fortune. Still others rejected
the doctrines of correlation between goodness and
happiness on account of the fate of Croesus.
In ancient religion “the benefits which were
expected from the gods were of a public character,
affecting the whole community, especially fruitful
seasons, increase of flocks and herds, and success
in war. So long as the community flourished,
the fact that an individual was miserable reflected
no discredit on divine providence, but was rather
taken to prove that the sufferer was an evil-doer,
justly hateful to the gods." Jehu and his house
were blamed for the blood spilt at Israel, although
Jehu was commissioned by Elisha to destroy the house
of Ahab. This is like the case of OEdipus,
who obeyed an oracle, but suffered for his act
as for a crime. Jéhovah caused the ruin of those
who had displeased him, by putting false oracles in
the mouths of prophets. Hezekiah expostulated
with God because, although he had walked before
God with a perfect heart and had done what was
right in His sight, he suffered calamity. In the
seventy-third Psalm, the author is perplexed by the
prosperity of the wicked, and the contrast of his
own fortunes. “Surely in vain have I
cleansed my heart and washed my hands in innocency,
for all day long have I been plagued, and chastened
every morning.” He says that at last
the wicked were cast down. He was brutish
and ignorant not to see the solution. It is that
the wicked prosper for a time only. He will
cleave unto God. The book of Job is a discussion
of the relation between goodness and happiness.
The crusaders were greatly perplexed by the victories
of the Mohammedans. It seemed to be proved
untrue that God would defend His own Name or the
true and holy cause. Louis XIV, when his armies
were defeated, said that God must have forgotten all
which he had done for Him.
11. Immortality and compensation.
The notion of immortality has been interwoven with
the notion of luck, of justice, and of the relation
of goodness and happiness. The case was reopened
in another world, and compensations could be assumed
to take place there. In the folk drama of
the ancient Greeks luck ruled. It was either
envious of human prosperity or beneficent. Grimm
gives more than a thousand ancient German apothegms,
dicta, and proverbs about “luck.”
The Italians of the fifteenth century saw grand
problems in the correlation of goodness and happiness.
Alexander VI was the wickedest man known in history,
but he had great and unbroken prosperity in all
his undertakings. The only conceivable explanation
was that he had made a pact with the devil.
Some of the American Indians believed that there was
an hour at which all wishes uttered by men were
fulfilled. It is amongst half-civilized peoples
that the notion of luck is given the greatest influence
in human affairs. They seek devices for operating
on luck, since luck controls all interests. Hence
words, times, names, places, gestures, and other
acts or relations are held to control luck.
Inasmuch as marriage is a relationship in which
happiness is sought and not always found, wedding
ceremonies are connected with acts “for luck.”
Some of these still survive amongst us as jests.
The fact of the aleatory element in human life,
the human interpretations of it, and the efforts
of men to deal with it constitute a large part of the
history of culture. They have produced groups
of folkways, and have entered as an element into
folkways for other purposes.
12. Tradition and its restraints.
It is evident that the “ways” of the older
and more experienced members of a society deserve great
authority in any primitive group. We find that
this rational authority leads to customs of deference
and to etiquette in favor of the old. The old
in turn cling stubbornly to tradition and to the example
of their own predecessors. Thus tradition and
custom become intertwined and are a strong coercion
which directs the society upon fixed lines, and strangles
liberty. Children see their parents always yield
to the same custom and obey the same persons.
They see that the elders are allowed to do all the
talking, and that if an outsider enters, he is saluted
by those who are at home according to rank and in
fixed order. All this becomes rule for children,
and helps to give to all primitive customs their stereotyped
formality. “The fixed ways of looking at
things which are inculcated by education and tribal
discipline, are the precipitate of an old cultural
development, and in their continued operation they
are the moral anchor of the Indian, although they are
also the fetters which restrain his individual will."
13. The concept of “primitive
society”; we-group and others-group. The conception
of “primitive society” which we ought to
form is that of small groups scattered over a territory.
The size of the groups is determined by the conditions
of the struggle for existence. The internal organization
of each group corresponds to its size. A group
of groups may have some relation to each other (kin,
neighborhood, alliance, connubium and commercium)
which draws them together and differentiates them
from others. Thus a differentiation arises between
ourselves, the we-group, or in-group, and everybody
else, or the others-groups, out-groups. The insiders
in a we-group are in a relation of peace, order, law,
government, and industry, to each other. Their
relation to all outsiders, or others-groups, is one
of war and plunder, except so far as agreements have
modified it. If a group is exogamic, the women
in it were born abroad somewhere. Other foreigners
who might be found in it are adopted persons, guest
friends, and slaves.
14. Sentiments in the in-group
and towards the out-group. The relation of comradeship
and peace in the we-group and that of hostility and
war towards others-groups are correlative to each
other. The exigencies of war with outsiders are
what make peace inside, lest internal discord should
weaken the we-group for war. These exigencies
also make government and law in the in-group, in order
to prevent quarrels and enforce discipline. Thus
war and peace have reacted on each other and developed
each other, one within the group, the other in the
intergroup relation. The closer the neighbors,
and the stronger they are, the intenser is the warfare,
and then the intenser is the internal organization
and discipline of each. Sentiments are produced
to correspond. Loyalty to the group, sacrifice
for it, hatred and contempt for outsiders, brotherhood
within, warlikeness without, all grow together,
common products of the same situation. These relations
and sentiments constitute a social philosophy.
It is sanctified by connection with religion.
Men of an others-group are outsiders with whose ancestors
the ancestors of the we-group waged war. The ghosts
of the latter will see with pleasure their descendants
keep up the fight, and will help them. Virtue
consists in killing, plundering, and enslaving outsiders.
15. Ethnocentrism is the technical
name for this view of things in which one’s
own group is the center of everything, and all others
are scaled and rated with reference to it. Folkways
correspond to it to cover both the inner and the outer
relation. Each group nourishes its own pride
and vanity, boasts itself superior, exalts its own
divinities, and looks with contempt on outsiders.
Each group thinks its own folkways the only right
ones, and if it observes that other groups have other
folkways, these excite its scorn. Opprobrious
epithets are derived from these differences.
“Pig-eater,” “cow-eater,” “uncircumcised,”
“jabberers,” are epithets of contempt and
abomination. The Tupis called the Portuguese
by a derisive epithet descriptive of birds which have
feathers around their feet, on account of trousers.
For our present purpose the most important fact is
that ethnocentrism leads a people to exaggerate and
intensify everything in their own folkways which is
peculiar and which differentiates them from others.
It therefore strengthens the folkways.
16. Illustrations of ethnocentrism.
The Papuans on New Guinea are broken up into village
units which are kept separate by hostility, cannibalism,
head hunting, and divergences of language and religion.
Each village is integrated by its own language, religion,
and interests. A group of villages is sometimes
united into a limited unity by connubium.
A wife taken inside of this group unit has full
status; one taken outside of it has not. The
petty group units are peace groups within and are
hostile to all outsiders. The Mbayas of South
America believed that their deity had bidden them
live by making war on others, taking their wives
and property, and killing their men.
17. When Caribs were asked whence they
came, they answered, “We alone are people."
The meaning of the name Kiowa is “real or principal
people." The Lapps call themselves “men,”
or “human beings." The Greenland Eskimo
think that Europeans have been sent to Greenland
to learn virtue and good manners from the Greenlanders.
Their highest form of praise for a European is that
he is, or soon will be, as good as a Greenlander.
The Tunguses call themselves “men." As
a rule it is found that nature peoples call themselves
“men.” Others are something else perhaps
not defined but not real men. In myths
the origin of their own tribe is that of the real
human race. They do not account for the others.
The Ainos derive their name from that of the first
man, whom they worship as a god. Evidently the
name of the god is derived from the tribe name.
When the tribal name has another sense, it is always
boastful or proud. The Ovambo name is a corruption
of the name of the tribe for themselves, which
means “the wealthy." Amongst the most remarkable
people in the world for ethnocentrism are the Seri
of Lower California. They observe an attitude
of suspicion and hostility to all outsiders, and
strictly forbid marriage with outsiders.
18. The Jews divided all mankind into
themselves and Gentiles. They were the “chosen
people.” The Greeks and Romans called all
outsiders “barbarians.” In Euripides’
tragedy of Iphigenia in Aulis Iphigenia
says that it is fitting that Greeks should rule over
barbarians, but not contrariwise, because Greeks are
free, and barbarians are slaves. The Arabs
regarded themselves as the noblest nation and all
others as more or less barbarous. In 1896,
the Chinese minister of education and his counselors
edited a manual in which this statement occurs:
“How grand and glorious is the Empire of
China, the middle kingdom! She is the largest
and richest in the world. The grandest men
in the world have all come from the middle empire."
In all the literature of all the states equivalent
statements occur, although they are not so naively
expressed. In Russian books and newspapers the
civilizing mission of Russia is talked about, just
as, in the books and journals of France, Germany,
and the United States, the civilizing mission of
those countries is assumed and referred to as well
understood. Each state now regards itself as the
leader of civilization, the best, the freest, and
the wisest, and all others as inferior. Within
a few years our own man-on-the-curbstone has learned
to class all foreigners of the Latin peoples as
“dagos,” and “dago” has become
an epithet of contempt. These are all cases
of ethnocentrism.
19. Patriotism is a sentiment
which belongs to modern states. It stands
in antithesis to the mediaeval notion of catholicity.
Patriotism is loyalty to the civic group to which
one belongs by birth or other group bond.
It is a sentiment of fellowship and cooperation
in all the hopes, work, and suffering of the group.
Mediaeval catholicity would have made all Christians
an in-group and would have set them in hostility
to all Mohammedans and other non-Christians.
It never could be realized. When the great modern
states took form and assumed control of societal
interests, group sentiment was produced in connection
with those states. Men responded willingly
to a demand for support and help from an institution
which could and did serve interests. The state
drew to itself the loyalty which had been given
to men (lords), and it became the object of that
group vanity and antagonism which had been ethnocentric.
For the modern man patriotism has become one of
the first of duties and one of the noblest of sentiments.
It is what he owes to the state for what the state
does for him, and the state is, for the modern
man, a cluster of civic institutions from which
he draws security and conditions of welfare. The
masses are always patriotic. For them the old
ethnocentric jealousy, vanity, truculency, and
ambition are the strongest elements in patriotism.
Such sentiments are easily awakened in a crowd.
They are sure to be popular. Wider knowledge always
proves that they are not based on facts. That
we are good and others are bad is never true.
By history, literature, travel, and science men
are made cosmopolitan. The selected classes of
all states become associated; they intermarry.
The differentiation by states loses importance.
All states give the same security and conditions
of welfare to all. The standards of civic institutions
are the same, or tend to become such, and it is
a matter of pride in each state to offer civic
status and opportunities equal to the best.
Every group of any kind whatsoever demands that each
of its members shall help defend group interests.
Every group stigmatizes any one who fails in zeal,
labor, and sacrifices for group interests.
Thus the sentiment of loyalty to the group, or the
group head, which was so strong in the Middle Ages,
is kept up, as far as possible, in regard to modern
states and governments. The group force is
also employed to enforce the obligations of devotion
to group interests. It follows that judgments
are precluded and criticism is silenced.
20. Chauvinism. That patriotism
may degenerate into a vice is shown by the invention
of a name for the vice: chauvinism. It is
a name for boastful and truculent group self-assertion.
It overrules personal judgment and character, and
puts the whole group at the mercy of the clique
which is ruling at the moment. It produces
the dominance of watchwords and phrases which take
the place of reason and conscience in determining
conduct. The patriotic bias is a recognized
perversion of thought and judgment against which
our education should guard us.
21. The struggle for existence
and the competition of life; antagonistic cooperation.
The struggle for existence must be carried on under
life conditions and in connection with the competition
of life. The life conditions consist in variable
elements of the environment, the supply of materials
necessary to support life, the difficulty of exploiting
them, the state of the arts, and the circumstances
of physiography, climate, meteorology, etc.,
which favor life or the contrary. The struggle
for existence is a process in which an individual
and nature are the parties. The individual is
engaged in a process by which he wins from his environment
what he needs to support his existence. In the
competition of life the parties are men and other
organisms. The men strive with each other, or
with the flora and fauna with which they are associated.
The competition of life is the rivalry, antagonism,
and mutual displacement in which the individual is
involved with other organisms by his efforts to carry
on the struggle for existence for himself. It
is, therefore, the competition of life which is the
societal element, and which produces societal organization.
The number present and in competition is another of
the life conditions. At a time and place the
life conditions are the same for a number of human
beings who are present, and the problems of life policy
are the same. This is another reason why the
attempts to satisfy interest become mass phenomena
and result in folkways. The individual and social
elements are always in interplay with each other if
there are a number present. If one is trying
to carry on the struggle for existence with nature,
the fact that others are doing the same in the same
environment is an essential condition for him.
Then arises an alternative. He and the others
may so interfere with each other that all shall fail,
or they may combine, and by cooperation raise their
efforts against nature to a higher power. This
latter method is industrial organization. The
crisis which produces it is constantly renewed, and
men are forced to raise the organization to greater
complexity and more comprehensive power, without limit.
Interests are the relations of action and reaction
between the individual and the life conditions, through
which relations the evolution of the individual is
produced. That evolution, so long as it goes
on prosperously, is well living, and it results in
the self-realization of the individual, for we may
think of each one as capable of fulfilling some career
and attaining to some character and state of power
by the developing of predispositions which he possesses.
It would be an error, however, to suppose that all
nature is a chaos of warfare and competition.
Combination and cooperation are so fundamentally necessary
that even very low life forms are found in symbiosis
for mutual dependence and assistance. A combination
can exist where each of its members would perish.
Competition and combination are two forms of life
association which alternate through the whole organic
and superorganic domains. The neglect of this
fact leads to many socialistic fallacies. Combination
is of the essence of organization, and organization
is the great device for increased power by a number
of unequal and dissimilar units brought into association
for a common purpose. McGee says of the desert
of Papagueria, in southwestern Arizona, that “a
large part of the plants and animals of the desert
dwell together in harmony and mutual helpfulness [which
he shows in detail]; for their energies are directed
not so much against one another as against the rigorous
environmental conditions growing out of dearth of
water. This communality does not involve loss
of individuality, ... indeed the plants and animals
are characterized by an individuality greater than
that displayed in regions in which perpetuity of the
species depends less closely on the persistence of
individuals.” Hence he speaks of the “solidarity
of life” in the desert. “The saguaro
is a monstrosity in fact as well as in appearance, a
product of miscegenation between plant and animal,
probably depending for its form of life history, if
not for its very existence, on its commensals."
The Seri protect pelicans from themselves by a
partial taboo, which is not understood. It seems
that they could not respect a breeding time, or establish
a closed season, yet they have such an appetite for
the birds and their eggs that they would speedily
exterminate them if there were no restraint.
This combination has been well called antagonistic
cooperation. It consists in the combination of
two persons or groups to satisfy a great common interest
while minor antagonisms of interest which exist between
them are suppressed. The plants and animals of
the desert are rivals for what water there is, but
they combine as if with an intelligent purpose to
attain to a maximum of life under the conditions.
There are many cases of animals who cooperate in the
same way. Our farmers put crows and robins under
a protective taboo because the birds destroy insects.
The birds also destroy grain and fruits, but this
is tolerated on account of their services. Madame
Pommerol says of the inhabitants of Sahara that the
people of the towns and the nomads are enemies by
caste and race, but allies in interest. The nomads
need refuge and shelter. The townspeople need
messengers and transportation. Hence ties of
contract, quarrels, fights, raids, vengeances,
and reconciliations for the sake of common enterprises
of plunder. Antagonistic cooperation is the most
productive form of combination in high civilization.
It is a high action of the reason to overlook lesser
antagonisms in order to work together for great interests.
Political parties are constantly forced to do it.
In the art of the statesman it is a constant policy.
The difference between great parties and factions
in any parliamentary system is of the first importance;
that difference consists in the fact that parties
can suppress minor differences, and combine for what
they think most essential to public welfare, while
factions divide and subdivide on petty differences.
Inasmuch as the suppression of minor differences means
a suppression of the emotional element, while the
other policy encourages the narrow issues in regard
to which feeling is always most intense, the former
policy allows far less play to feeling and passion.
22. Hunger, love, vanity, and
fear. There are four great motives of human action
which come into play when some number of human beings
are in juxtaposition under the same life conditions.
These are hunger, sex passion, vanity, and fear (of
ghosts and spirits). Under each of these motives
there are interests. Life consists in satisfying
interests, for “life,” in a society, is
a career of action and effort expended on both the
material and social environment. However great
the errors and misconceptions may be which are included
in the efforts, the purpose always is advantage and
expediency. The efforts fall into parallel lines,
because the conditions and the interests are the same.
It is now the accepted opinion, and it may be correct,
that men inherited from their beast ancestors psychophysical
traits, instincts, and dexterities, or at least predispositions,
which give them aid in solving the problems of food
supply, sex, commerce, and vanity. The result
is mass phenomena; currents of similarity, concurrence,
and mutual contribution; and these produce folkways.
The folkways are unconscious, spontaneous, uncoordinated.
It is never known who led in devising them, although
we must believe that talent exerted its leadership
at all times. Folkways come into existence now
all the time. There were folkways in stage coach
times, which were fitted to that mode of travel.
Street cars have produced ways which are suited to
that mode of transportation in cities. The telephone
has produced ways which have not been invented and
imposed by anybody, but which are devised to satisfy
conveniently the interests which are at stake in the
use of that instrument.
23. Process of making folkways.
Although we may see the process of making folkways
going on all the time, the analysis of the process
is very difficult. It appears as if there was
a “mind” in the crowd which was different
from the minds of the individuals which compose it.
Indeed some have adopted such a doctrine. By
autosuggestion the stronger minds produce ideas which
when set afloat pass by suggestion from mind to mind.
Acts which are consonant with the ideas are imitated.
There is a give and take between man and man.
This process is one of development. New suggestions
come in at point after point. They are carried
out. They combine with what existed already.
Every new step increases the number of points upon
which other minds may seize. It seems to be by
this process that great inventions are produced.
Knowledge has been won and extended by it. It
seems as if the crowd had a mystic power in it greater
than the sum of the powers of its members. It
is sufficient, however, to explain this, to notice
that there is a cooperation and constant suggestion
which is highly productive when it operates in a crowd,
because it draws out latent power, concentrates what
would otherwise be scattered, verifies and corrects
what has been taken up, eliminates error, and constructs
by combination. Hence the gain from the collective
operation is fully accounted for, and the theories
of Voelkerpsychologie are to be rejected as
superfluous. Out of the process which has been
described have come the folkways during the whole
history of civilization.
The phenomena of suggestion and suggestibility
demand some attention because the members of a group
are continually affecting each other by them, and
great mass phenomena very often are to be explained
by them.
24. Suggestion; suggestibility.
What has been called the psychology of crowds consists
of certain phenomena of suggestion. A number of
persons assembled together, especially if they are
enthused by the same sentiment or stimulated by the
same interest, transmit impulses to each other with
the result that all the impulses are increased in a
very high ratio. In other words, it is an undisputed
fact that all mental states and emotions are greatly
increased in force by transmission from man to man,
especially if they are attended by a sense of the concurrence
and cooperation of a great number who have a common
sentiment or interest. “The element of
psychic coercion to which our thought process is subject
is the characteristic of the operations which we call
suggestive." What we have done or heard occupies
our minds so that we cannot turn from it to something
else. The consensus of a number promises triumph
for the impulse, whatever it is. Ca ira. There
is a thrill of enthusiasm in the sense of moving with
a great number. There is no deliberation or reason.
Therefore a crowd may do things which are either better
or worse than what individuals in it would do.
Cases of lynching show how a crowd can do things which
it is extremely improbable that the individuals would
do or consent to, if they were taken separately.
The crowd has no greater guarantee of wisdom and virtue
than an individual would have. In fact, the participants
in a crowd almost always throw away all the powers
of wise judgment which have been acquired by education,
and submit to the control of enthusiasm, passion, animal
impulse, or brute appetite. A crowd always has
a common stock of elementary faiths, prejudices, loves
and hates, and pet notions. The common stock
is acted on by the same stimuli, in all the persons,
at the same time. The response, as an aggregate,
is a great storm of feeling, and a great impulse to
the will. Hence the great influence of omens and
of all popular superstitions on a crowd. Omens
are a case of “egoistic reference." An army
desists from a battle on account of an eclipse.
A man starting out on the food quest returns home because
a lizard crosses his path. In each case an incident
in nature is interpreted as a warning or direction
to the army or the man. Thus momentous results
for men and nations may be produced without cause.
The power of watchwords consists in the cluster of
suggestions which has become fastened upon them.
In the Middle Ages the word “heretic” won
a frightful suggestion of base wickedness. In
the seventeenth century the same suggestions were
connected with the words “witch” and “traitor.”
“Nature” acquired great suggestion of
purity and correctness in the eighteenth century, which
it has not yet lost. “Progress” now
bears amongst us a very undue weight of suggestion.
Suggestibility is the quality of liability to suggestive
influence. “Suggestibility is the natural
faculty of the brain to admit any ideas whatsoever,
without motive, to assimilate them, and eventually
to transform them rapidly into movements, sensations,
and inhibitions." It differs greatly in degree,
and is present in different grades in different crowds.
Crowds of different nationalities would differ both
in degree of suggestibility and in the kinds of suggestive
stimuli to which they would respond. Imitation
is due to suggestibility. Even suicide is rendered
epidemic by suggestion and imitation. In a crisis,
like a shipwreck, when no one knows what to do, one,
by acting, may lead them all through imitative suggestibility.
People who are very suggestible can be led into states
of mind which preclude criticism or reflection.
Any one who acquires skill in the primary processes
of association, analogy, reiteration, and continuity,
can play tricks on others by stimulating these processes
and then giving them selected data to work upon.
A directive idea may be suggested by a series of ideas
which lead the recipient of them to expect that the
series will be continued. Then he will not perceive
if the series is broken. In the Renaissance period
no degree of illumination sufficed to resist the delusion
of astrology, because it was supported by a passionate
fantasy and a vehement desire to know the future, and
because it was confirmed by antiquity, the authority
of whose opinions was overwhelmingly suggested by
all the faiths and prejudices of the time.
25. Suggestion in education.
Manías. Parents and teachers use suggestion
in rearing children. Persons who enjoy social
preeminence operate suggestion all the time, whether
intentionally or unintentionally. Whatever
they do is imitated. Folkways operate on individuals
by suggestion; when they are elevated to mores
they do so still more, for then they carry the suggestion
of societal welfare. Ways and notions may be rejected
by an individual at first upon his judgment of their
merits, but repeated suggestion produces familiarity
and dulls the effect upon him of the features which
at first repelled him. Familiar cases of this
are furnished by fashions of dress and by slang.
A new fashion of dress seems at first to be absurd,
ungraceful, or indecent. After a time this
first impression of it is so dulled that all conform
to the fashion. New slang seems vulgar. It
makes its way into use. In India the lingam
symbol is so common that no one pays any heed to
its sense. This power of familiarity to reduce
the suggestion to zero furnishes a negative proof of
the power of the suggestion. Conventionalization
also reduces suggestion, perhaps to zero.
It is a mischievous thing to read descriptions
of crime, vice, horrors, excessive adventures, etc.,
because familiarity lessens the abhorrent suggestions
which those things ought to produce. Swindlers
and all others who have an interest to lead the
minds of their fellow-men in a certain direction
employ suggestion. They often develop great practical
skill in the operation, although they do not understand
the science of it. It is one of the arts of
the demagogue and stump orator. A man who
wanted to be nominated for an office went before
the convention to make a speech. A great and difficult
question agitated the party. He began by saying
that he would state his position on that question
frankly and fully. “But first,”
said he, “let me say that I am a Democrat.”
This brought out a storm of applause. Then
he went on to boast of his services to the party,
and then he stopped without having said a word on
the great question. He was easily nominated.
The witch persécutions rested on suggestion.
“Everybody knew” that there were witches.
If not, what were the people who were burned?
Philip IV of France wanted to make the people believe
that the templars were heretics. The people
were not ready to believe this. The king caused
the corpse of a templar to be dug up and burned,
as the corpses of heretics were burned. This convinced
the people by suggestion. What “they say,”
what “everybody does,” and what “everybody
knows” are controlling suggestions. Religious
revivals are carried on by suggestion. Mediaeval
flagellations and dances were cases of suggestion.
In fact, all popular manías are to be
explained by it. Religious bodies practice
suggestion on themselves, especially on their children
or less enthusiastic members, by symbols, pictures,
images, processions, dramatic representations,
festivals, relics, legends of their heroes.
In the Middle Ages the crucifix was an instrument
of religious suggestion to produce vivid apprehension
of the death of Jesus. In very many well-known
cases the passions of the crowd were raised to
the point of very violent action. The symbols
and images also, by suggestion, stimulate religious
fervor. If numbers act together, as in convents,
mass phenomena are produced, and such results follow
as the hysterical epidemics in convents and the
extravagances of communistic sects. Learned
societies and numbers of persons who are interested
in the same subject, by meeting and imparting suggestions,
make all the ideas of each the common stock of
all. Hyperboreans have a mental disease which
renders them liable to suggestion. The women
are afflicted by hysteria before puberty. Later
they show the phenomena of “possession,” dancing
and singing, and still later catalepsy.
26. Suggestion in politics. The
great field for the use of the devices and apparatus
of suggestion at the present time is politics.
Within fifty years all states have become largely
popular. Suggestion is easy when it falls in
with popular ideas, the pet notions of groups of
people, the popular common-places, and the current
habits of thought and feeling. Newspapers, popular
literature, and popular oratory show the effort to
operate suggestion along these lines. They
rarely correct; they usually flatter the accepted
notions. The art of adroit suggestion is one
of the great arts of politics. Antony’s
speech over the body of Cæsar is a classical example
of it. In politics, especially at elections,
the old apparatus of suggestion is employed again, flags,
symbols, ceremonies, and celebrations. Patriotism
is systematically cultivated by anniversaries, pilgrimages,
symbols, songs, recitations, etc. Another
very remarkable case of suggestion is furnished
by modern advertisements. They are adroitly
planned to touch the mind of the reader in a way
to get the reaction which the advertiser wants.
The advertising pages of our popular magazines furnish
evidence of the faiths and ideas which prevail in
the masses.
27. Suggestion and criticism.
Suggestion is a legitimate device, if it is honestly
used, for inculcating knowledge or principles of
conduct; that is, for education in the broadest sense
of the word. Criticism is the operation by which
suggestion is limited and corrected. It is
by criticism that the person is protected against
credulity, emotion, and fallacy. The power of
criticism is the one which education should chiefly
train. It is difficult to resist the suggestion
that one who is accused of crime is guilty.
Lynchers generally succumb to this suggestion, especially
if the crime was a heinous one which has strongly
excited their emotions against the unknown somebody
who perpetrated it. It requires criticism
to resist this suggestion. Our judicial institutions
are devised to hold this suggestion aloof until
the evidence is examined. An educated man ought
to be beyond the reach of suggestions from advertisements,
newspapers, speeches, and stories. If he is
wise, just when a crowd is filled with enthusiasm
and emotion, he will leave it and will go off by himself
to form his judgment. In short, individuality
and personality of character are the opposites
of suggestibility. Autosuggestion properly
includes all the cases in which a man is “struck
by an idea,” or “takes a notion,”
but it is more strictly applied to fixed ideas
and habits of thought. An irritation suggests
parasites, and parasites suggest an irritation.
The fear of stammering causes stammering.
A sleeping man drives away a fly without waking.
If we are in a pose or rôle, we act as we have heard
that people act in that pose or rôle. A highly
trained judgment is required to correct or select
one’s own ideas and to resist fixed ideas.
The supreme criticism is criticism of one’s
self.
28. Folkways due to false inference.
Furthermore, folkways have been formed by accident,
that is, by irrational and incongruous action, based
on pseudo-knowledge. In Molembo a pestilence broke
out soon after a Portuguese had died there. After
that the natives took all possible measures not to
allow any white man to die in their country. On
the Nicobar islands some natives who had just begun
to make pottery died. The art was given up and
never again attempted. White men gave to one Bushman
in a kraal a stick ornamented with buttons as
a symbol of authority. The recipient died leaving
the stick to his son. The son soon died.
Then the Bushmen brought back the stick lest all should
die. Until recently no building of incombustible
materials could be built in any big town of the central
province of Madagascar, on account of some ancient
prejudice. A party of Eskimos met with no game.
One of them returned to their sledges and got the
ham of a dog to eat. As he returned with the
ham bone in his hand he met and killed a seal.
Ever afterwards he carried a ham bone in his hand
when hunting. The Belenda women (peninsula of
Malacca) stay as near to the house as possible during
the period. Many keep the door closed. They
know no reason for this custom. “It must
be due to some now forgotten superstition." Soon
after the Yakuts saw a camel for the first time smallpox
broke out amongst them. They thought the camel
to be the agent of the disease. A woman amongst
the same people contracted an endogamous marriage.
She soon afterwards became blind. This was thought
to be on account of the violation of ancient customs.
A very great number of such cases could be collected.
In fact they represent the current mode of reasoning
of nature people. It is their custom to reason
that, if one thing follows another, it is due to it.
A great number of customs are traceable to the notion
of the evil eye, many more to ritual notions of uncleanness.
No scientific investigation could discover the origin
of the folkways mentioned, if the origin had not chanced
to become known to civilized men. We must believe
that the known cases illustrate the irrational and
incongruous origin of many folkways. In civilized
history also we know that customs have owed their origin
to “historical accident,” the
vanity of a princess, the deformity of a king, the
whim of a democracy, the love intrigue of a statesman
or prelate. By the institutions of another age
it may be provided that no one of these things can
affect decisions, acts, or interests, but then the
power to decide the ways may have passed to clubs,
trades unions, trusts, commercial rivals, wire-pullers,
politicians, and political fanatics. In these
cases also the causes and origins may escape investigation.
29. Harmful folkways. There
are folkways which are positively harmful. Very
often these are just the ones for which a definite
reason can be given. The destruction of a man’s
goods at his death is a direct deduction from other-worldliness;
the dead man is supposed to want in the other world
just what he wanted here. The destruction of a
man’s goods at his death was a great waste of
capital, and it must have had a disastrous effect
on the interests of the living, and must have very
seriously hindered the development of civilization.
With this custom we must class all the expenditure
of labor and capital on graves, temples, pyramids,
rites, sacrifices, and support of priests, so far as
these were supposed to benefit the dead. The
faith in goblinism produced other-worldly interests
which overruled ordinary worldly interests. Foods
have often been forbidden which were plentiful, the
prohibition of which injuriously lessened the food
supply. There is a tribe of Bushmen who will
eat no goat’s flesh, although goats are the most
numerous domestic animals in the district. Where
totemism exists it is regularly accompanied by a taboo
on eating the totem animal. Whatever may be the
real principle in totemism, it overrules the interest
in an abundant food supply. “The origin
of the sacred regard paid to the cow must be sought
in the primitive nomadic life of the Indo-European
race,” because it is common to Iranians and
Indians of Hindostan. The Libyans ate oxen but
not cows. The same was true of the Phoenicians
and Egyptians. In some cases the sense of a food
taboo is not to be learned. It may have been
entirely capricious. Mohammed would not eat lizards,
because he thought them the offspring of a metamorphosed
clan of Israelites. On the other hand, the protective
taboo which forbade killing crocodiles, pythons, cobras,
and other animals enemies of man was harmful to his
interests, whatever the motive. “It seems
to be a fixed article of belief throughout southern
India, that all who have willfully or accidentally
killed a snake, especially a cobra, will certainly
be punished, either in this life or the next, in one
of three ways: either by childlessness, or by
leprosy, or by ophthalmia." Where this faith exists
man has a greater interest to spare a cobra than to
kill it. India furnishes a great number of cases
of harmful mores. “In India every tendency
of humanity seems intensified and exaggerated.
No country in the world is so conservative in its
traditions, yet no country has undergone so many religious
changes and vicissitudes." “Every year thousands
perish of disease that might recover if they would
take proper nourishment, and drink the medicine that
science prescribes, but which they imagine that their
religion forbids them to touch.” “Men
who can scarcely count beyond twenty, and know not
the letters of the alphabet, would rather die than
eat food which had been prepared by men of lower caste,
unless it had been sanctified by being offered to
an idol; and would kill their daughters rather than
endure the disgrace of having unmarried girls at home
beyond twelve or thirteen years of age." In the
last case the rule of obligation and duty is set by
the mores. The interest comes under vanity.
The sanction of the caste rules is in a boycott by
all members of the caste. The rules are often
very harmful. “The authority of caste rests
partly on written laws, partly on legendary fables
or narratives, partly on the injunctions of instructors
and priests, partly on custom and usage, and partly
on the caprice and convenience of its votaries."
The harm of caste rules is so great that of late they
have been broken in some cases, especially in regard
to travel over sea, which is a great advantage to
Hindoos. The Hindoo folkways in regard to widows
and child marriages must also be recognized as socially
harmful.
30. How “true” and
“right” are found. If a savage puts his
hand too near the fire, he suffers pain and draws
it back. He knows nothing of the laws of the
radiation of heat, but his instinctive action conforms
to that law as if he did know it. If he wants
to catch an animal for food, he must study its habits
and prepare a device adjusted to those habits.
If it fails, he must try again, until his observation
is “true” and his device is “right.”
All the practical and direct element in the folkways
seems to be due to common sense, natural reason, intuition,
or some other original mental endowment. It seems
rational (or rationalistic) and utilitarian.
Often in the mythologies this ultimate rational element
was ascribed to the teaching of a god or a culture
hero. In modern mythology it is accounted for
as “natural.”
Although the ways adopted must always
be really “true” and “right”
in relation to facts, for otherwise they could not
answer their purpose, such is not the primitive notion
of true and right.
31. The folkways are “right.”
Rights. Morals. The folkways are the “right”
ways to satisfy all interests, because they are traditional,
and exist in fact. They extend over the whole
of life. There is a right way to catch game,
to win a wife, to make one’s self appear, to
cure disease, to honor ghosts, to treat comrades or
strangers, to behave when a child is born, on the
warpath, in council, and so on in all cases which
can arise. The ways are defined on the negative
side, that is, by taboos. The “right”
way is the way which the ancestors used and which
has been handed down. The tradition is its own
warrant. It is not held subject to verification
by experience. The notion of right is in the
folkways. It is not outside of them, of independent
origin, and brought to them to test them. In
the folkways, whatever is, is right. This is
because they are traditional, and therefore contain
in themselves the authority of the ancestral ghosts.
When we come to the folkways we are at the end of
our analysis. The notion of right and ought is
the same in regard to all the folkways, but the degree
of it varies with the importance of the interest at
stake. The obligation of conformable and cooperative
action is far greater under ghost fear and war than
in other matters, and the social sanctions are severer,
because group interests are supposed to be at stake.
Some usages contain only a slight element of right
and ought. It may well be believed that notions
of right and duty, and of social welfare, were first
developed in connection with ghost fear and other-worldliness,
and therefore that, in that field also, folkways were
first raised to mores. “Rights” are
the rules of mutual give and take in the competition
of life which are imposed on comrades in the in-group,
in order that the peace may prevail there which is
essential to the group strength. Therefore rights
can never be “natural” or “God-given,”
or absolute in any sense. The morality of a group
at a time is the sum of the taboos and prescriptions
in the folkways by which right conduct is defined.
Therefore morals can never be intuitive. They
are historical, institutional, and empirical.
World philosophy, life policy, right,
rights, and morality are all products of the folkways.
They are reflections on, and generalizations from,
the experience of pleasure and pain which is won in
efforts to carry on the struggle for existence under
actual life conditions. The generalizations are
very crude and vague in their germinal forms.
They are all embodied in folklore, and all our philosophy
and science have been developed out of them.
32. The folkways are “true."
The folkways are necessarily “true” with
respect to some world philosophy. Pain forced
men to think. The ills of life imposed reflection
and taught forethought. Mental processes were
irksome and were not undertaken until painful experience
made them unavoidable. With great unanimity all
over the globe primitive men followed the same line
of thought. The dead were believed to live on
as ghosts in another world just like this one.
The ghosts had just the same needs, tastes, passions,
etc., as the living men had had. These transcendental
notions were the beginning of the mental outfit of
mankind. They are articles of faith, not rational
convictions. The living had duties to the ghosts,
and the ghosts had rights; they also had power to
enforce their rights. It behooved the living therefore
to learn how to deal with ghosts. Here we have
a complete world philosophy and a life policy deduced
from it. When pain, loss, and ill were experienced
and the question was provoked, Who did this to us?
the world philosophy furnished the answer. When
the painful experience forced the question, Why are
the ghosts angry and what must we do to appease them?
the “right” answer was the one which fitted
into the philosophy of ghost fear. All acts were
therefore constrained and trained into the forms of
the world philosophy by ghost fear, ancestral authority,
taboos, and habit. The habits and customs created
a practical philosophy of welfare, and they confirmed
and developed the religious theories of goblinism.
33. Relation of world philosophy
and folkways. It is quite impossible for us to disentangle
the elements of philosophy and custom, so as to determine
priority and the causative position of either.
Our best judgment is that the mystic philosophy is
regulative, not creative, in its relation to the folkways.
They reacted upon each other. The faith in the
world philosophy drew lines outside of which the folkways
must not go. Crude and vague notions of societal
welfare were formed from the notion of pleasing the
ghosts, and from such notions of expediency as the
opinion that, if there were not children enough, there
would not be warriors enough, or that, if there were
too many children, the food supply would not be adequate.
The notion of welfare was an inference and resultant
from these mystic and utilitarian generalizations.
34. Definition of the mores.
When the elements of truth and right are developed
into doctrines of welfare, the folkways are raised
to another plane. They then become capable of
producing inferences, developing into new forms, and
extending their constructive influence over men and
society. Then we call them the mores. The
mores are the folkways, including the philosophical
and ethical generalizations as to societal welfare
which are suggested by them, and inherent in them,
as they grow.
35. Taboos. The mores necessarily
consist, in a large part, of taboos, which indicate
the things which must not be done. In part these
are dictated by mystic dread of ghosts who might be
offended by certain acts, but they also include such
acts as have been found by experience to produce unwelcome
results, especially in the food quest, in war, in
health, or in increase or decrease of population.
These taboos always contain a greater element of philosophy
than the positive rules, because the taboos contain
reference to a reason, as, for instance, that the
act would displease the ghosts. The primitive
taboos correspond to the fact that the life of man
is environed by perils. His food quest must be
limited by shunning poisonous plants. His appetite
must be restrained from excess. His physical
strength and health must be guarded from dangers.
The taboos carry on the accumulated wisdom of generations,
which has almost always been purchased by pain, loss,
disease, and death. Other taboos contain inhibitions
of what will be injurious to the group. The laws
about the sexes, about property, about war, and about
ghosts, have this character. They always include
some social philosophy. They are both mystic
and utilitarian, or compounded of the two.
Taboos may be divided into two classes,
(1) protective and (2) destructive. Some of them
aim to protect and secure, while others aim to repress
or exterminate. Women are subject to some taboos
which are directed against them as sources of possible
harm or danger to men, and they are subject to other
taboos which put them outside of the duties or risks
of men. On account of this difference in taboos,
taboos act selectively, and thus affect the course
of civilization. They contain judgments as to
societal welfare.
36. No primitive philosophizing;
myths; fables; notion of societal welfare. It is
not to be understood that primitive men philosophize
about their experience of life. That is our way;
it was not theirs. They did not formulate any
propositions about the causes, significance, or ultimate
relations of things. They made myths, however,
in which they often presented conceptions which are
deeply philosophical, but they represented them in
concrete, personal, dramatic and graphic ways.
They feared pain and ill, and they produced folkways
by their devices for warding off pain and ill.
Those devices were acts of ritual which were planned
upon their vague and crude faiths about ghosts and
the other world. We develop the connection between
the devices and the faiths, and we reduce it to propositions
of a philosophic form, but the primitive men never
did that. Their myths, fables, proverbs, and maxims
show that the subtler relations of things did not
escape them, and that reflection was not wanting,
but the method of it was very different from ours.
The notion of societal welfare was not wanting, although
it was never consciously put before themselves as
their purpose. It was pestilence, as a visitation
of the wrath of ghosts on all, or war, which first
taught this idea, because war was connected with victory
over a neighboring group. The Bataks have a legend
that men once married their fathers’ sisters’
daughters, but calamities followed and so those marriages
were tabooed. This inference and the cases mentioned
in se show a conception of societal welfare and
of its relation to states and acts as conditions.
37. The imaginative element.
The correct apprehension of facts and events by the
mind, and the correct inferences as to the relations
between them, constitute knowledge, and it is chiefly
by knowledge that men have become better able to live
well on earth. Therefore the alternation between
experience or observation and the intellectual processes
by which the sense, sequence, interdependence, and
rational consequences of facts are ascertained, is
undoubtedly the most important process for winning
increased power to live well. Yet we find that
this process has been liable to most pernicious errors.
The imagination has interfered with the reason and
furnished objects of pursuit to men, which have wasted
and dissipated their energies. Especially the
alternations of observation and deduction have been
traversed by vanity and superstition which have introduced
delusions. As a consequence, men have turned
their backs on welfare and reality, in order to pursue
beauty, glory, poetry, and dithyrambic rhetoric, pleasure,
fame, adventure, and phantasms. Every group,
in every age, has had its “ideals” for
which it has striven, as if men had blown bubbles into
the air, and then, entranced by their beautiful colors,
had leaped to catch them. In the very processes
of analysis and deduction the most pernicious errors
find entrance. We note our experience in every
action or event. We study the significance from
experience. We deduce a conviction as to what
we may best do when the case arises again. Undoubtedly
this is just what we ought to do in order to live well.
The process presents us a constant reiteration of
the sequence, act, thought, act. The
error is made if we allow suggestions of vanity, superstition,
speculation, or imagination to become confused with
the second stage and to enter into our conviction
of what it is best to do in such a case. This
is what was done when goblinism was taken as the explanation
of experience and the rule of right living, and it
is what has been done over and over again ever since.
Speculative and transcendental notions have furnished
the world philosophy, and the rules of life policy
and duty have been deduced from this and introduced
at the second stage of the process, act,
thought, act. All the errors and fallacies of
the mental processes enter into the mores of the age.
The logic of one age is not that of another. It
is one of the chief useful purposes of a study of
the mores to learn to discern in them the operation
of traditional error, prevailing dogmas, logical fallacy,
delusion, and current false estimates of goods worth
striving for.
38. The ethical policy of the
schools and the success policy. Although speculative
assumptions and dogmatic deductions have produced the
mischief here described, our present world philosophy
has come out of them by rude methods of correction
and purification, and “great principles”
have been deduced which now control our life philosophy;
also ethical principles have been determined which
no civilized man would now repudiate (truthfulness,
love, honor, altruism). The traditional doctrines
of philosophy and ethics are not by any means adjusted
smoothly to each other or to modern notions. We
live in a war of two antagonistic ethical philosophies:
the ethical policy taught in the books and the schools,
and the success policy. The same man acts at
one time by the school ethics, disregarding consequences,
at another time by the success policy, in which the
consequences dictate the conduct; or we talk the former
and act by the latter.
39. Recapitulation. We may
sum up this preliminary analysis as follows:
men in groups are under life conditions; they have
needs which are similar under the state of the life
conditions; the relations of the needs to the conditions
are interests under the heads of hunger, love, vanity,
and fear; efforts of numbers at the same time to satisfy
interests produce mass phenomena which are folkways
by virtue of uniformity, repetition, and wide concurrence.
The folkways are attended by pleasure or pain according
as they are well fitted for the purpose. Pain
forces reflection and observation of some relation
between acts and welfare. At this point the prevailing
world philosophy (beginning with goblinism) suggests
explanations and inferences, which become entangled
with judgments of expediency. However, the folkways
take on a philosophy of right living and a life policy
for welfare. Then they become mores, and they
may be developed by inferences from the philosophy
or the rules in the endeavor to satisfy needs without
pain. Hence they undergo improvement and are
made consistent with each other.
40. The scope and method of
the mores. In the present work the proposition to
be maintained is that the folkways are the widest,
most fundamental, and most important operation by
which the interests of men in groups are served, and
that the process by which folkways are made is the
chief one to which elementary societal or group phenomena
are due. The life of society consists in making
folkways and applying them. The science of society
might be construed as the study of them. The
relations of men to each other, when they are carrying
on the struggle for existence near each other, consist
in mutual reactions (antagonisms, rivalries, alliances,
coercions, and cooperations), from which result societal
concatenations and concrétions, that is, more
or less fixed positions of individuals and subgroups
towards each other, and more or less established sequences
and methods of interaction between them, by which
the interests of all members of the group are served.
The same might be said of all animals. The social
insects especially show us highly developed results
of the adjustment of adjacent interests and life acts
into concatenations and concrétions. The
societal concrétions are due to the folkways
in this way, that the men, each struggling
to carry on existence, unconsciously cooperate to
build up associations, organization, customs, and
institutions which, after a time, appear full grown
and actual, although no one intended, or planned, or
understood them in advance. They stand there
as produced by “ancestors.” These
concrétions of relation and act in war, labor,
religion, amusement, family life, and civil institutions
are attended by faiths, doctrines of philosophy (myths,
folklore), and by precepts of right conduct and duty
(taboos). The making of folkways is not trivial,
although the acts are minute. Every act of each
man fixes an atom in a structure, both fulfilling
a duty derived from what preceded and conditioning
what is to come afterwards by the authority of traditional
custom. The structure thus built up is not physical,
but societal and institutional, that is to say, it
belongs to a category which must be defined and studied
by itself. It is a category in which custom produces
continuity, coherence, and consistency, so that the
word “structure” may properly be applied
to the fabric of relations and prescribed positions
with which societal functions are permanently connected.
The process of making folkways is never superseded
or changed. It goes on now just as it did at the
beginning of civilization. “Use and wont”
exert their force on all men always. They produce
familiarity, and mass acts become unconscious.
The same effect is produced by customary acts repeated
at all recurring occasions. The range of societal
activity may be greatly enlarged, interests may be
extended and multiplied, the materials by which needs
can be supplied may become far more numerous, the processes
of societal cooperation may become more complicated,
and contract or artifice may take the place of custom
for many interests; but, if the case is one which
touches the ways or interests of the masses, folkways
will develop on and around it by the same process
as that which has been described as taking place from
the beginning of civilization. The ways of carrying
on war have changed with all new inventions of weapons
or armor, and have grown into folkways of commanding
range and importance. The factory system of handicrafts
has produced a body of folkways in which artisans
live, and which distinguish factory towns from commercial
cities or agricultural villages. The use of cotton
instead of linen has greatly affected modern folkways.
The applications of power and machinery have changed
the standards of comfort of all classes. The folkways,
however, have kept their character and authority through
all the changes of form which they have undergone.
41. Integration of the mores
of a group or age. In further development of the
same interpretation of the phenomena we find that changes
in history are primarily due to changes in life conditions.
Then the folkways change. Then new philosophies
and ethical rules are invented to try to justify the
new ways. The whole vast body of modern mores
has thus been developed out of the philosophy and
ethics of the Middle Ages. So the mores which
have been developed to suit the system of great secular
states, world commerce, credit institutions, contract
wages and rent, emigration to outlying continents,
etc., have become the norm for the whole body
of usages, manners, ideas, faiths, customs, and institutions
which embrace the whole life of a society and characterize
an historical epoch. Thus India, Chaldea, Assyria,
Egypt, Greece, Rome, the Middle Ages, Modern Times,
are cases in which the integration of the mores upon
different life conditions produced societal states
of complete and distinct individuality (ethos).
Within any such societal status the great reason for
any phenomenon is that it conforms to the mores of
the time and place. Historians have always recognized
incidentally the operation of such a determining force.
What is now maintained is that it is not incidental
or subordinate. It is supreme and controlling.
Therefore the scientific discussion of a usage, custom,
or institution consists in tracing its relation to
the mores, and the discussion of societal crises and
changes consists in showing their connection with
changes in the life conditions, or with the readjustment
of the mores to changes in those conditions.
42. Purpose of the present work.
“Ethology” would be a convenient term
for the study of manners, customs, usages, and mores,
including the study of the way in which they are formed,
how they grow or decay, and how they affect the interests
which it is their purpose to serve. The Greeks
applied the term “ethos” to the sum of
the characteristic usages, ideas, standards, and codes
by which a group was differentiated and individualized
in character from other groups. “Ethics”
were things which pertained to the ethos and therefore
the things which were the standard of right.
The Romans used “mores” for customs in
the broadest and richest sense of the word, including
the notion that customs served welfare, and had traditional
and mystic sanction, so that they were properly authoritative
and sacred. It is a very surprising fact that
modern nations should have lost these words and the
significant suggestions which inhere in them.
The English language has no derivative noun from “mores,”
and no equivalent for it. The French moeurs
is trivial compared with “mores.”
The German Sitte renders “mores”
but very imperfectly. The modern peoples have
made morals and morality a separate domain, by the
side of religion, philosophy, and politics. In
that sense, morals is an impossible and unreal category.
It has no existence, and can have none. The word
“moral” means what belongs or appertains
to the mores. Therefore the category of morals
can never be defined without reference to something
outside of itself. Ethics, having lost connection
with the ethos of a people, is an attempt to systematize
the current notions of right and wrong upon some basic
principle, generally with the purpose of establishing
morals on an absolute doctrine, so that it shall be
universal, absolute, and everlasting. In a general
way also, whenever a thing can be called moral, or
connected with some ethical generality, it is thought
to be “raised,” and disputants whose method
is to employ ethical generalities assume especial
authority for themselves and their views. These
methods of discussion are most employed in treating
of social topics, and they are disastrous to sound
study of facts. They help to hold the social
sciences under the dominion of metaphysics. The
abuse has been most developed in connection with political
economy, which has been almost robbed of the character
of a serious discipline by converting its discussions
into ethical disquisitions.
43. Why use the word mores.
“Ethica,” in the Greek sense, or “ethology,”
as above defined, would be good names for our present
work. We aim to study the ethos of groups, in
order to see how it arises, its power and influence,
the modes of its operation on members of the group,
and the various attributes of it (ethica). “Ethology”
is a very unfamiliar word. It has been used for
the mode of setting forth manners, customs, and mores
in satirical comedy. The Latin word “mores”
seems to be, on the whole, more practically convenient
and available than any other for our purpose, as a
name for the folkways with the connotations of right
and truth in respect to welfare, embodied in them.
The analysis and definition above given show that
in the mores we must recognize a dominating force
in history, constituting a condition as to what can
be done, and as to the methods which can be employed.
44. Mores are a directive force.
Of course the view which has been stated is antagonistic
to the view that philosophy and ethics furnish creative
and determining forces in society and history.
That view comes down to us from the Greek philosophy
and it has now prevailed so long that all current
discussion conforms to it. Philosophy and ethics
are pursued as independent disciplines, and the results
are brought to the science of society and to statesmanship
and legislation as authoritative dicta. We also
have Voelkerpsychologie, Sozialpolitik,
and other intermediate forms which show the struggle
of metaphysics to retain control of the science of
society. The “historic sense,” the
Zeitgeist, and other terms of similar import
are partial recognitions of the mores and their importance
in the science of society. It can be seen also
that philosophy and ethics are products of the folkways.
They are taken out of the mores, but are never original
and creative; they are secondary and derived.
They often interfere in the second stage of the sequence, act,
thought, act. Then they produce harm, but some
ground is furnished for the claim that they are creative
or at least regulative. In fact, the real process
in great bodies of men is not one of deduction from
any great principle of philosophy or ethics. It
is one of minute efforts to live well under existing
conditions, which efforts are repeated indefinitely
by great numbers, getting strength from habit and
from the fellowship of united action. The resultant
folkways become coercive. All are forced to conform,
and the folkways dominate the societal life.
Then they seem true and right, and arise into mores
as the norm of welfare. Thence are produced faiths,
ideas, doctrines, religions, and philosophies, according
to the stage of civilization and the fashions of reflection
and generalization.
45. Consistency in the mores.
The tendency of the mores of a period to consistency
has been noticed (se. No doubt this tendency
is greatly strengthened when people are able to generalize
“principles” from acts. This explains
the modern belief that principles are causative.
The passion for equality, the universal use of contract,
and the sentiments of humanitarianism are informing
elements in modern society. Whence did they come?
Undoubtedly they came out of the mores into which they
return again as a principle of consistency. Respect
for human life, horror at cruelty and bloodshed, sympathy
with pain, suffering, and poverty (humanitarianism),
have acted as “causes” in connection with
the abolition of slavery, the reform of the criminal
law and of prisons, and sympathy with the oppressed,
but humanitarianism was a generalization from remoter
mores which were due to changes in life conditions.
The ultimate explanation of the rise of humanitarianism
is the increased power of man over nature by the acquisition
of new land, and by advance in the arts. When
men ceased to crowd on each other, they were all willing
to adopt ideas and institutions which made the competition
of life easy and kindly.
46. The mores of subgroups.
Each class or group in a society has its own mores.
This is true of ranks, professions, industrial classes,
religious and philosophical sects, and all other subdivisions
of society. Individuals are in two or more of
these groups at the same time, so that there is compromise
and neutralization. Other mores are common to
the whole society. Mores are also transmitted
from one class to another. It is necessary to
give precision to the notion of classes.
47. What are classes? Galton
made a classification of society by a standard which
he did not strictly define. He called it “their
natural gifts.” It might be understood
to be mental power, reputation, social success, income
from societal work, or societal value. Ammon took
up the idea and developed it, making a diagrammatic
representation of it, which is reproduced on the following
page.
48. If we measure and classify a
number of persons by any physical characteristic (stature,
weight) we find that the results always fall under
a curve of probable error. That they should do
so is, in fact, a truism. If a number of persons
with different degrees of power and resistance are
acted on by the same influences, it is most probable
that the greatest number of them will reach the same
and a mean degree of self-realization, and others
in proportion to their power and resistance.
The fact has been statistically verified so often,
and for such a great variety of physical traits, that
we may infer its truth for all traits of mind and
character for which we have no units, and which we
cannot therefore measure or statistically classify.
49. Classes rated by societal
value. If we take societal value as the criterion
of the classification of society, it has the advantage
of being germane to the interests which are most important
in connection with classification, but it is complex.
There is no unit of it. Therefore we could never
verify it statistically. It conforms, in the
main, to mental power, but it must contain also a large
element of practical sense, health, and opportunity
(luck). On the simplest analysis, there are four
elements, intellectual, moral, economic,
and physical; but each of these is composite.
If one of them is present in a high degree, and the
others in a low degree, the whole is inharmonic, and
not highly advantageous. The highest societal
value seems to go with a harmonious combination, although
it may be of lower grades. A man of talent, practical
sense, industry, perseverance, and moral principle
is worth more to society than a genius, who is not
morally responsible, or not industrious. Societal
value also conforms, in a general way, to worldly
success and to income from work contributed to the
industrial organization, for genius which was not
effective would have no societal value. On the
other hand, however, so long as scientific work and
books of the highest value to science and art pay
the authors nothing, the returns of the market, and
income, only imperfectly measure societal value.
All these limitations being allowed for, nevertheless
societal value is a concrete idea, especially on its
negative side (paupers, tramps, social failures, and
incompetents). The defective, dependent, and
delinquent classes are already fully differentiated,
and are made objects of statistical enumeration.
The rest only differ in degree. If, therefore,
all were rated and scaled by this value, the results
would fall under a curve of probable error. In
the diagram the axis Xx is set perpendicular
and the ordinates are divided equally upon it in order
to make the divisions correspond to “up”
and “down” as we use those words in social
discussion. Then MN is the line of the
greatest number. From O upwards we may
cut off equal sections, OA, AB, etc.,
to indicate grades of societal value above that of
the greatest number, and from O downwards we
may cut off equal sections of the same magnitude to
indicate grades of societal value less than that of
the greatest number. At the top we have a small
number of men of genius. Below these we may cut
off another section which includes the men of talent.
At the bottom we find the dependent, defective, and
delinquent classes which are a burden on society.
Above them is another stratum, the proletariat, which
serves society only by its children. Persons of
this class have no regular mode of earning a living,
but are not, at the moment at which the classification
is made, dependent. These are the only ones to
whom the term “proletarian” could with
any propriety be applied. Next above these is
another well-defined stratum, the self-supporting,
but unskilled and illiterate. Then all who fall
between PQ and RS are characterized
by mediocrity, and they constitute “the masses.”
In all new countries, and as it would seem at the present
time also in central Europe, there is a very strong
current upwards from the lower to the upper strata
of PQRS. Universal education tends to
produce such a current. Talented men of the period
are very often born in humble circumstances, but succeed
in taking their true place in the societal scale.
It is true, of course, that there is a counter-current
of degenerate sons and grandsons. The present
diagram is made unsymmetrical with respect to MN
to express the opinion that the upper strata of PQRS
(the lower professional and the semiprofessional classes)
are now, in any civilized society, larger in proportion
than symmetry would indicate. The line MN
is therefore a mode, and the class upon it is the
modal class of the society, by means of which one
society might be compared with another.
50. Galton estimated the number
of men of genius in all history at four hundred.
An important fraction of these were related by blood.
The “men of the time” he rates at four
hundred and fifty in a million, and the more distinguished
of them at two hundred and fifty in a million.
These latter he defines by saying that a man, to be
included amongst them, “should have distinguished
himself pretty frequently, either by purely original
work, or as a leader of opinion.” He finds
that illustrious men are only one in a million.
On the other hand, idiots and imbéciles in England
and Wales are one in four hundred, of whom thirty
per cent can be educated so as to be equal to one third
of a normal man each; forty per cent can be made worth
two thirds of a man; twenty-five or thirty per cent
pass muster in a crowd. Above these are silly
persons whose relatives shield them from public knowledge.
Then above these come the Dundreary type.
51. Class; race; group solidarity.
If the group which is classified is a large one, and
especially if it is a genetic unit (race, tribe, or
nation), there are no gaps in the series. Each
individual falls into his place by virtue of his characteristic
differences. Just as no two are anthropologically
alike, so we may believe that no two are alike or
equal in societal value. That all men should be
alike or equal, by any standard whatever, is contrary
to all the facts of human nature and all the conditions
of human life. Any group falls into subdivisions,
the members of each of which are approximately equal,
when measured by any standard, because the classification
is imperfect. If we make it more refined, the
subdivisions must be subdivided again. We are
in a dilemma: we cannot describe mankind at all
without categories, and if we go on to make our categories
more and more exact, each one of them would at last
contain only one person. Two things result which
are practically important, and which furnish us with
scientific concepts which we can employ in further
study: (1) The classification gives us the notion
of the relative position of one, or a subdivision,
in the entire group. This is the sense of “class."
(2) The characteristic differences furnish the notion
of individuality and personality. The concept
of a race, as the term is now used, is that of a group
clustered around a mean with respect to some characteristic,
and great confusion in the use of the word “race”
arises from the attempt to define races by their boundaries,
when we really think of them by the mean or mode, e.g.
as to skin color. The coherence, unity, and solidarity
of a genetic group is a very striking fact. It
seems to conceal a play of mystic forces. It
is, in fact, no more mysterious than the run of dice.
The propositions about it would all become, in the
last analysis, identical propositions; e.g. it
is most probable that we shall meet with the thing
which is present in the greatest number; or, it is
most probable that the most probable thing will happen.
In the middle of the nineteenth century, when attention
was first called to the solidarity and internal correlations
of groups, especially if they were large and genetic,
it was believed that occult and far-reaching laws
had been discovered. That opinion has long been
abandoned. If there are four dice in a box, each
having from one to six dots on its faces, the chance
of throwing four sixes is just the same as that of
throwing four ones. The mean of the sums of the
dots which may fall uppermost is fourteen, which can
be produced by one hundred and forty-six throws.
Suppose that the components of social value are four, intellectual,
moral, physical, economic, represented
by the four dice, and that the degrees are represented
by the dots. We should get four sixes once in
twelve hundred and ninety-six throws. Of the
one hundred and forty-six throws which give the mean
fourteen, seventy-two show one six up. That might
be a Hercules fit only for a dime museum. Seventy-eight
of the combinations are inharmonious, but have one
strong element. In societal matters it is by no
means indifferent whether the equal sums of societal
value are made up of very unequal, or of harmonious,
components. So in a group of a million persons
the chance of a great genius, who would stand alone
towards X is just the same as that of an utter
idiot who would stand alone towards x, and
the reason why the number at the mode is so great
is that the societal value is the sum of components,
of which many sums may be equal, although the components
are very unequal. Two strata at equal distances
above and below O are equal in number, so far
as their useful powers and resistances go, but education
introduces a new component which destroys their equality
and forces a redistribution. Galton suggests
that, if people who would when adults fall in classes
V, W, or X in our diagram could
be recognized in infancy, and could be bought for
money, it would be a great bargain for a nation, England
for instance, to buy them for much money and rear them
as Englishmen. Farr estimated the baby of an
agricultural laborer as worth L5, capital value.
A baby who could be reared to take a place in the
class X would have a capital value of thousands
of pounds. The capital value would be like that
of land of different degrees of natural advantage,
but none of it yet exploited.
52. The masses and the mores.
In connection with the mores the masses are of very
great importance. The historical or selected classes
are those which, in history, have controlled the activities
and policy of generations. They have been differentiated
at one time by one standard, at another time by another.
The position which they held by inheritance from early
society has given them prestige and authority.
Merit and societal value, according to the standards
of their time, have entered into their status only
slightly and incidentally. Those classes have
had their own mores. They had the power to regulate
their lives to some extent according to their own
choice, a power which modern civilized men eagerly
desire and strive for primarily by the acquisition
of wealth. The historical classes have, therefore,
selected purposes, and have invented ways of fulfilling
them. Their ways have been imitated by the masses.
The classes have led the way in luxury, frivolity,
and vice, and also in refinement, culture, and the
art of living. They have introduced variation.
The masses are not large classes at the base of a social
pyramid; they are the core of the society. They
are conservative. They accept life as they find
it, and live on by tradition and habit. In other
words, the great mass of any society lives a purely
instinctive life just like animals. We must not
be misled by the conservatism of castes and aristocracies,
who resist change of customs and institutions by virtue
of which they hold social power. The conservatism
of the masses is of a different kind. It is not
produced by interests, but it is instinctive.
It is due to inertia. Change would make new effort
necessary to win routine and habit. It is therefore
irksome. The masses, moreover, have not the power
to reach out after “improvements,” or to
plan steps of change by which needs might be better
satisfied. The mores of any society, at a period,
may be characterized by the promptness or reluctance
of the masses to imitate the ways of the classes.
It is a question of the first importance for the historian
whether the mores of the historical classes of which
he finds evidence in documentary remains penetrated
the masses or not. The masses are the real bearers
of the mores of the society. They carry tradition.
The folkways are their ways. They accept influence
or leadership, and they imitate, but they do so as
they see fit, being controlled by their notions and
tastes previously acquired. They may accept standards
of character and action from the classes, or from
foreigners, or from literature, or from a new religion,
but whatever they take up they assimilate and make
it a part of their own mores, which they then transmit
by tradition, defend in its integrity, and refuse
to discard again. Consequently the writings of
the literary class may not represent the faiths, notions,
tastes, standards, etc., of the masses at all.
The literature of the first Christian centuries shows
us scarcely anything of the mores of the time, as they
existed in the faith and practice of the masses.
Every group takes out of a new religion which is offered
to it just what it can assimilate with its own traditional
mores. Christianity was a very different thing
amongst Jews, Egyptians, Greeks, Germans, and Slavs.
It would be a great mistake to suppose that any people
ever accepted and held philosophical or religious
teaching as it was offered to them, and as we find
it recorded in the books of the teachers. The
mores of the masses admit of no such sudden and massive
modification by doctrinal teaching. The process
of assimilation is slow, and it is attended by modifying
influences at every stage. What the classes adopt,
be it good or ill, may be found pervading the mass
after generations, but it will appear as a resultant
of all the vicissitudes of the folkways in the interval.
“It was the most frightful feature of the corruption
of ancient Rome, that it extended through every class
in the community." “As in the Renaissance,
so now [in the Catholic reaction] vice trickled downward
from above, infiltrating the mass of the people with
its virus." It is the classes who produce variation;
it is the masses who carry forward the traditional
mores.
53. Fallacies about the masses
and classes. It is a fallacy to infer that the masses
have some occult wisdom or inspiration by virtue of
which they select what is wise, right, and good from
what the classes offer. There is, also, no device
by which it is possible to obtain from the masses,
in advance or on demand, a judgment on any proposed
changes or innovations. The masses are not an
oracle. If any answers can be obtained on the
problems of life, such answers will come rather from
the classes. The two sections of society are
such that they may cooperate with advantage to the
good of all. Neither one has a right or a better
claim to rule the society.
54. Action of the masses on
thoughts. Fifty years ago Darwin put some knowledge
into the common stock. The peasants and artisans
of his time did nothing of the kind. What the
masses do with thoughts is that they rub them down
into counters just as they take coins from the mint
and smooth them down by wear until they are only disks
of metal. The masses understand, for instance,
that Darwin said that “men are descended from
monkeys.” Only summary and glib propositions
of that kind can ever get currency. The learned
men are all the time trying to recoin them and give
them at least partial reality. Ruskin set afloat
some notions of art criticism, which have penetrated
all our cultivated classes. They are not lost,
but see what has become of them in fifty years by
popularization. A little later a new gospel of
furniture and house decoration was published.
The masses have absorbed it. See what they have
made of it. Eastlake wanted no machine work, but
machinery was not to be defeated. It can make
lopsided things if those are the fashion, and it can
make all the construction show if Eastlake has got
the notion into the crowd that the pegs ought to be
on the outside. Thinking and understanding are
too hard work. If any one wants to blame the masses
let him turn to his own case. He will find that
he thinks about and understands only his own intellectual
pursuit. He could not give the effort to every
other department of knowledge. In other matters
he is one of the masses and does as they do.
He uses routine, set formulae, current phrases, caught
up from magazines and newspapers of the better class.
55. Organization of the masses.
Masses of men who are on a substantial equality with
each other never can be anything but hopeless savages.
The eighteenth-century notion that men in a state
of nature were all equal is wrong-side up. Men
who were equal would be in a state of nature such
as was imagined. They could not form a society.
They would be forced to scatter and wander, at most
two or three together. They never could advance
in the arts of civilization. The popular belief
that out of some such horde there has come by the
spontaneous development of innate forces all the civilization
which we possess is entirely unfounded. Masses
of men who are approximately equal are in time exterminated
or enslaved. Only when enslaved or subjugated
are some of them carried up with their conquerors
by organization and discipline (negroes and Indians
amongst us). A horde in which the only differences
are those of age and sex is not capable of maintaining
existence. It fights because only by conquering
or being conquered can it endure. When it is
subjugated and disciplined it consists of workers to
belabor the ground for others, or tax payers to fill
a treasury from which others may spend, or food for
gunpowder, or voting material for demagogues.
It is an object of exploitation. At one moment,
in spite of its aggregate muscle, it is helpless and
imbecile; the next moment it is swept away into folly
and mischief by a suggestion or an impulse. Organization,
leadership, and discipline are indispensable to any
beneficial action by masses of men. If we ignore
this fact, we see the machine and the boss evolved
out of the situation which we create.
56. Institutions of civil liberty.
Institutions also must be produced which will hold
the activities of society in channels of order, deliberation,
peace, regulated antagonism of interests, and justice,
according to the mores of the time. These institutions
put an end to exploitation and bring interests into
harmony under civil liberty. But where do the
institutions come from? The masses have never
made them. They are produced out of the mores
by the selection of the leading men and classes who
get control of the collective power of the society
and direct it to the activities which will (as they
think) serve the interests which they regard as most
important. If changes in life conditions occur,
the interests to be served change. Great inventions
and discoveries, the opening of new continents, new
methods of agriculture and commerce, the introduction
of money and financial devices, improved state organization,
increase the economic power of the society and the
force at the disposal of the state. Industrial
interests displace military and monarchical interests
as the ones which the state chiefly aims to serve,
not because of any tide of “progress,”
but because industrialism gives greater and more varied
satisfactions to the rulers. The increase of
power is the primary condition. The classes
strive with each other for the new power. Peace
is necessary, for without peace none of them can enjoy
power. Compromise, adjustment of interests, antagonistic
cooperation (se, harmony, are produced, and
institutions are the regulative processes and apparatus
by which warfare is replaced by system. The historical
process has been full of error, folly, selfishness,
violence, and craft. It is so still. The
point which is now important for us is that the masses
have never carried on the struggles and processes
by which civilized society has been made into an arena,
within which exploitation of man by man is to some
extent repressed, and where individual self-realization
has a large scope, under the institutions of civil
liberty. It is the historical and selected classes
which have done this, often enough without intending
or foreseeing the results of actions which they inaugurated
with quite other, perhaps selfish, class purposes
in view. A society is a whole made up of parts.
All the parts have a legitimate share in the acts and
sufferings of the society. All the parts contribute
to the life and work of the society. We inherit
all the consequences of all their acts. Some
of the consequences are good and some are bad.
It is utterly impossible to name the classes which
have done useful work and made beneficial sacrifices
only, and the other classes which have been idle burdens
and mischief makers only. All that has been done
has been done by all. It is evident that no other
view than this can be rational and true, for one reason
because the will and intention of the men of to-day
in what they do has so little to do with the consequences
to-morrow of what they do. The notion that religion,
or marriage, or property, or monarchy, as we have
inherited them, can be proved evil, or worthy of condemnation
and contempt on account of the selfishness and violence
interwoven with their history, is one of the idlest
of all the vagaries of the social philosophers.
57. The common man. Every civilized
society has to carry below the lowest sections of
the masses a dead weight of ignorance, poverty, crime,
and disease. Every such society has, in the great
central section of the masses, a great body which
is neutral in all the policy of society. It lives
by routine and tradition. It is not brutal, but
it is shallow, narrow-minded, and prejudiced.
Nevertheless it is harmless. It lacks initiative
and cannot give an impulse for good or bad. It
produces few criminals. It can sometimes be moved
by appeals to its fixed ideas and prejudices.
It is affected in its mores by contagion from the
classes above it. The work of “popularization”
consists in bringing about this contagion. The
middle section is formed around the mathematical mean
of the society, or around the mathematical mode, if
the distribution of the subdivisions is not symmetrical.
The man on the mode is the “common man,”
the “average man,” or the “man in
the street.” Between him and the democratic
political institutions the pulpit, the
newspapers, and the public library there
is a constant reaction by which mores are modified
and preserved. The aim of all the institutions
and literature in a modern state is to please him.
His aim is to get out of them what suits him.
The yellow newspapers thrive and displace all the
others because he likes them. The trashy novels
pay well because his wife and daughters like them.
The advertisements in the popular magazines are addressed
to him. They show what he wants. The “funny
items” are adjusted to his sense of humor.
Hence all these things are symptoms. They show
what he “believes in,” and they strengthen
his prejudices. If all art, literature, legislation,
and political power are to be cast at his feet, it
makes some difference who and what he is. His
section of society determines the mores of the whole.
58. “The people.”
Popular impulses. In a democratic state the great
middle section would rule if it was organized independently
of the rest. It is that section which constitutes
“the people” in the special technical
sense in which that expression is current in political
use. It is to it that the Jeffersonian doctrines
about the “wisdom” of the people would
apply. That section, however, is never organized
independently; that is to say, “the people”
never exist as a body exercising political power.
The middle section of a group may be enthused by an
impulse which is adapted to its ways and notions.
It clings to persons, loves anecdotes, is fond of
light emotions, and prides itself on its morality.
If a man wins popularity in that section, the impulse
which his name can give to it may be irresistible
(Jefferson, Jackson). The middle section is greatly
affected by symbolism. “The flag”
can be developed into a fetich. A cult can be
nourished around it. Group vanity is very strong
in it. Patriotic emotions and faiths are its
favorite psychological exercises, if the conjuncture
is favorable and the material well-being is high.
When the middle section is stirred by any spontaneous
and consentaneous impulses which arise from its nature
and ways, it may produce incredible results with only
a minimum of organization. “A little prosperity
and some ideas, as Aristotle saw, are the ferment
which sets the masses in ebullition. This offers
an opportunity. A beginning is made. The
further development is unavoidable."
59. Agitation. Every impulse
given to the masses is, in its nature, spasmodic and
transitory. No systematic enterprise to enlighten
the masses ever can be carried out. Campaigns
of education contain a fallacy. Education takes
time. It cannot be treated as subsidiary for a
lifetime and then be made the chief business for six
months with the desired result. A campaign of
education is undemocratic. It implies that some
one is teacher and somebody else pupil. It can
only result in the elucidation of popular interests
and the firmer establishment of popular prejudice.
On the other hand, an agitation which appeals skillfully
to pet notions and to latent fanaticism may stampede
the masses. The Middle Ages furnished a number
of cases. The Mahdis who have arisen in Mohammedan
Africa, and other Moslem prophets, have produced wonderful
phenomena of this kind. The silver agitation was
begun, in 1878, by a systematic effort of three or
four newspapers in the middle West, addressed to currency
notions which the greenback proposition had popularized.
What is the limit to the possibilities of fanaticism
and frenzy which might be produced in any society
by agitation skillfully addressed to the fallacies
and passions of the masses? The answer lies in
the mores, which determine the degree of reserved common
sense, and the habit of observing measure and method,
to which the masses have been accustomed. It
follows that popular agitation is a desperate and
doubtful method. The masses, as the great popular
jury which, at last, by adoption or rejection, decides
the fate of all proposed changes in the mores, needs
stability and moderation. Popular agitation introduces
into the masses initiative and creative functions which
destroy its judgment and call for quite other qualities.
60. The ruling element in the
masses. The masses are liable to controlling influences
from elements which they contain. When crises
arise in a democratic state attention is concentrated
on the most numerous strata nearest to MN (see
the diagram, , but they rarely possess self-determination
unless the question at issue appeals directly to popular
interest or popular vanity. Moreover, those strata
cannot rule unless they combine with those next above
and below. So the critical question always is,
in regard to the masses PQRS, which parts of
it will move the whole of it. Generally the question
is, more specifically, What is the character of the
strata above a line through A or B,
and what is their relation to the rest of PQRS?
If the upper part of the section PQRS consists
of employers and the lower part of employes, and if
they hate and fight each other, coherence and sympathy
in the society will cease, the mores will be characterized
by discord, passion, and quarrelsomeness, and political
crises will arise which may reach any degree of severity,
for the political parties will soon coincide with
the class sections. The upper part of PQRS
is made up of the strata which possess comfort without
luxury, but also culture, intelligence, and the best
family mores. They are generally disciplined
classes, with strong moral sense, public spirit, and
sense of responsibility. If we are not in error
as to the movement in civilized states of the present
time from the lower into the upper strata of PQRS,
by virtue of ambition and education, then it follows
that the upper strata are being constantly reenforced
by all the elements in the society which have societal
value, after those elements have been developed and
disciplined by labor and self-denial. The share
which the upper strata of the masses have in determining
the policy of the masses is therefore often decisive
of public welfare. On the other hand, it is when
the masses are controlled by the strata next above
RS that there is most violent impulsiveness
in societal movements. The movements and policies
which are characterized as revolutionary have their
rise in these classes, although, in other cases, these
classes also adhere most stubbornly to popular traditions
in spite of reason and fact. Trade unionism is,
at the present time, a social philosophy and a programme
of policy which has its origin in the sections of
the masses next above RS.
The French Revolution began with the
highest strata of the masses, and the control of it
passed on down from one to another of the lower strata,
until it reached the lowest, the mob gathered
in the slums of a great city.
61. The mores and institutions.
Institutions and laws are produced out of mores.
An institution consists of a concept (idea, notion,
doctrine, interest) and a structure. The structure
is a framework, or apparatus, or perhaps only a number
of functionaries set to cooperate in prescribed ways
at a certain conjuncture. The structure holds
the concept and furnishes instrumentalities for bringing
it into the world of facts and action in a way to
serve the interests of men in society. Institutions
are either crescive or enacted. They are crescive
when they take shape in the mores, growing by the
instinctive efforts by which the mores are produced.
Then the efforts, through long use, become definite
and specific. Property, marriage, and religion
are the most primary institutions. They began
in folkways. They became customs. They developed
into mores by the addition of some philosophy of welfare,
however crude. Then they were made more definite
and specific as regards the rules, the prescribed
acts, and the apparatus to be employed. This
produced a structure and the institution was complete.
Enacted institutions are products of rational invention
and intention. They belong to high civilization.
Banks are institutions of credit founded on usages
which can be traced back to barbarism. There came
a time when, guided by rational reflection on experience,
men systematized and regulated the usages which had
become current, and thus created positive institutions
of credit, defined by law and sanctioned by the force
of the state. Pure enacted institutions which
are strong and prosperous are hard to find. It
is too difficult to invent and create an institution,
for a purpose, out of nothing. The electoral college
in the constitution of the United States is an example.
In that case the democratic mores of the people have
seized upon the device and made of it something quite
different from what the inventors planned. All
institutions have come out of mores, although the
rational element in them is sometimes so large that
their origin in the mores is not to be ascertained
except by an historical investigation (legislatures,
courts, juries, joint stock companies, the stock exchange).
Property, marriage, and religion are still almost
entirely in the mores. Amongst nature men any
man might capture and hold a woman at any time, if
he could. He did it by superior force which was
its own supreme justification. But his act brought
his group and her group into war, and produced harm
to his comrades. They forbade capture, or set
conditions for it. Beyond the limits, the individual
might still use force, but his comrades were no longer
responsible. The glory to him, if he succeeded,
might be all the greater. His control over his
captive was absolute. Within the prescribed conditions,
“capture” became technical and institutional,
and rights grew out of it. The woman had a status
which was defined by custom, and was very different
from the status of a real captive. Marriage was
the institutional relation, in the society and under
its sanction, of a woman to a man, where the woman
had been obtained in the prescribed way. She
was then a “wife.” What her rights
and duties were was defined by the mores, as they
are to-day in all civilized society.
62. Laws. Acts of legislation
come out of the mores. In low civilization all
societal regulations are customs and taboos, the origin
of which is unknown. Positive laws are impossible
until the stage of verification, reflection, and criticism
is reached. Until that point is reached there
is only customary law, or common law. The customary
law may be codified and systematized with respect
to some philosophical principles, and yet remain customary.
The codes of Manu and Justinian are examples.
Enactment is not possible until reverence for ancestors
has been so much weakened that it is no longer thought
wrong to interfere with traditional customs by positive
enactment. Even then there is reluctance to make
enactments, and there is a stage of transition during
which traditional customs are extended by interpretation
to cover new cases and to prevent evils. Legislation,
however, has to seek standing ground on the existing
mores, and it soon becomes apparent that legislation,
to be strong, must be consistent with the mores.
Things which have been in the mores are put under police
regulation and later under positive law. It is
sometimes said that “public opinion” must
ratify and approve police regulations, but this statement
rests on an imperfect analysis. The regulations
must conform to the mores, so that the public will
not think them too lax or too strict. The mores
of our urban and rural populations are not the same;
consequently legislation about intoxicants which is
made by one of these sections of the population does
not succeed when applied to the other. The regulation
of drinking places, gambling places, and disorderly
houses has passed through the above-mentioned stages.
It is always a question of expediency whether to leave
a subject under the mores, or to make a police regulation
for it, or to put it into the criminal law. Betting,
horse racing, dangerous sports, electric cars, and
vehicles are cases now of things which seem to be
passing under positive enactment and out of the unformulated
control of the mores. When an enactment is made
there is a sacrifice of the elasticity and automatic
self-adaptation of custom, but an enactment is specific
and is provided with sanctions. Enactments come
into use when conscious purposes are formed, and it
is believed that specific devices can be framed by
which to realize such purposes in the society.
Then also prohibitions take the place of taboos, and
punishments are planned to be deterrent rather than
revengeful. The mores of different societies,
or of different ages, are characterized by greater
or less readiness and confidence in regard to the
use of positive enactments for the realization of societal
purposes.
63. How laws and institutions
differ from mores. When folkways have become institutions
or laws they have changed their character and are to
be distinguished from the mores. The element of
sentiment and faith inheres in the mores. Laws
and institutions have a rational and practical character,
and are more mechanical and utilitarian. The great
difference is that institutions and laws have a positive
character, while mores are unformulated and undefined.
There is a philosophy implicit in the folkways; when
it is made explicit it becomes technical philosophy.
Objectively regarded, the mores are the customs which
actually conduce to welfare under existing life conditions.
Acts under the laws and institutions are conscious
and voluntary; under the folkways they are always
unconscious and involuntary, so that they have the
character of natural necessity. Educated reflection
and skepticism can disturb this spontaneous relation.
The laws, being positive prescriptions, supersede
the mores so far as they are adopted. It follows
that the mores come into operation where laws and tribunals
fail. The mores cover the great field of common
life where there are no laws or police regulations.
They cover an immense and undefined domain, and they
break the way in new domains, not yet controlled at
all. The mores, therefore, build up new laws
and police regulations in time.
64. Difference between mores
and some cognate things. Products of intentional
investigation or of rational and conscious reflection,
projects formally adopted by voluntary associations,
rational methods consciously selected, injunctions
and prohibitions by authority, and all specific conventional
arrangements are not in the mores. They are differentiated
by the rational and conscious element in them.
We may also make a distinction between usages and
mores. Usages are folkways which contain no principle
of welfare, but serve convenience so long as all know
what they are expected to do. For instance, Orientals,
to show respect, cover the head and uncover the feet;
Occidentals do the opposite. There is no
inherent and necessary connection between respect
and either usage, but it is an advantage that there
should be a usage and that all should know and observe
it. One way is as good as another, if it is understood
and established. The folkways as to public decency
belong to the mores, because they have real connection
with welfare which determines the only tenor which
they can have. The folkways about propriety and
modesty are sometimes purely conventional and sometimes
inherently real. Fashions, fads, affectations,
poses, ideals, manías, popular delusions,
follies, and vices must be included in the mores.
They have characteral qualities and characteral effect.
However frivolous or foolish they may appear to people
of another age, they have the form of attempts to
live well, to satisfy some interest, or to win some
good. The ways of advertisers who exaggerate,
use tricks to win attention, and appeal to popular
weakness and folly; the ways of journalism; electioneering
devices; oratorical and dithyrambic extravagances
in politics; current methods of humbug and sensationalism, are
not properly part of the mores but symptoms of them.
They are not products of the concurrent and cooperative
effort of all members of the society to live well.
They are devices made with conscious ingenuity to
exert suggestion on the minds of others. The
mores are rather the underlying facts in regard to
the faiths, notions, tastes, desires, etc., of
that society at that time, to which all these modes
of action appeal and of whose existence they are evidence.
65. What is goodness or badness
of the mores. It is most important to notice that,
for the people of a time and place, their own mores
are always good, or rather that for them there can
be no question of the goodness or badness of their
mores. The reason is because the standards of
good and right are in the mores. If the life conditions
change, the traditional folkways may produce pain
and loss, or fail to produce the same good as formerly.
Then the loss of comfort and ease brings doubt into
the judgment of welfare (causing doubt of the pleasure
of the gods, or of war power, or of health), and thus
disturbs the unconscious philosophy of the mores.
Then a later time will pass judgment on the mores.
Another society may also pass judgment on the mores.
In our literary and historical study of the mores
we want to get from them their educational value,
which consists in the stimulus or warning as to what
is, in its effects, societally good or bad. This
may lead us to reject or neglect a phenomenon like
infanticide, slavery, or witchcraft, as an old “abuse”
and “evil,” or to pass by the crusades
as a folly which cannot recur. Such a course
would be a great error. Everything in the mores
of a time and place must be regarded as justified with
regard to that time and place. “Good”
mores are those which are well adapted to the situation.
“Bad” mores are those which are not so
adapted. The mores are not so stereotyped and
changeless as might appear, because they are forever
moving towards more complete adaptation to conditions
and interests, and also towards more complete adjustment
to each other. People in mass have never made
or kept up a custom in order to hurt their own interests.
They have made innumerable errors as to what their
interests were and how to satisfy them, but they have
always aimed to serve their interests as well as they
could. This gives the standpoint for the student
of the mores. All things in them come before him
on the same plane. They all bring instruction
and warning. They all have the same relation
to power and welfare. The mistakes in them are
component parts of them. We do not study them
in order to approve some of them and condemn others.
They are all equally worthy of attention from the
fact that they existed and were used. The chief
object of study in them is their adjustment to interests,
their relation to welfare, and their coordination
in a harmonious system of life policy. For the
men of the time there are no “bad” mores.
What is traditional and current is the standard of
what ought to be. The masses never raise any question
about such things. If a few raise doubts and
questions, this proves that the folkways have already
begun to lose firmness and the regulative element
in the mores has begun to lose authority. This
indicates that the folkways are on their way to a
new adjustment. The extreme of folly, wickedness,
and absurdity in the mores is witch persécutions,
but the best men of the seventeenth century had no
doubt that witches existed, and that they ought to
be burned. The religion, statecraft, jurisprudence,
philosophy, and social system of that age all contributed
to maintain that belief. It was rather a culmination
than a contradiction of the current faiths and convictions,
just as the dogma that all men are equal and that
one ought to have as much political power in the state
as another was the culmination of the political dogmatism
and social philosophy of the nineteenth century.
Hence our judgments of the good or evil consequences
of folkways are to be kept separate from our study
of the historical phenomena of them, and of their
strength and the reasons for it. The judgments
have their place in plans and doctrines for the future,
not in a retrospect.
66. More exact definition of
the mores. We may now formulate a more complete definition
of the mores. They are the ways of doing things
which are current in a society to satisfy human needs
and desires, together with the faiths, notions, codes,
and standards of well living which inhere in those
ways, having a genetic connection with them. By
virtue of the latter element the mores are traits in
the specific character (ethos) of a society or a period.
They pervade and control the ways of thinking in all
the exigencies of life, returning from the world of
abstractions to the world of action, to give guidance
and to win revivification. “The mores [Sitten]
are, before any beginning of reflection, the regulators
of the political, social, and religious behavior of
the individual. Conscious reflection is the worst
enemy of the mores, because mores begin unconsciously
and pursue unconscious purposes, which are recognized
by reflection often only after long and circuitous
processes, and because their expediency often depends
on the assumption that they will have general acceptance
and currency, uninterfered with by reflection."
“The mores are usage in any group, in so far
as it, on the one hand, is not the expression or fulfillment
of an absolute natural necessity [e.g. eating or sleeping],
and, on the other hand, is independent of the arbitrary
will of the individual, and is generally accepted
as good and proper, appropriate and worthy."
67. Ritual. The process by
which mores are developed and established is ritual.
Ritual is so foreign to our mores that we do not recognize
its power. In primitive society it is the prevailing
method of activity, and primitive religion is entirely
a matter of ritual. Ritual is the perfect form
of drill and of the regulated habit which comes from
drill. Acts which are ordained by authority and
are repeated mechanically without intelligence run
into ritual. If infants and children are subjected
to ritual they never escape from its effects through
life. Galton says that he was, in early youth,
in contact with the Mohammedan ritual idea that the
left hand is less worthy than the right, and that
he never overcame it. We see the effect of ritual
in breeding, courtesy, politeness, and all forms of
prescribed behavior. Etiquette is social ritual.
Ritual is not easy compliance with usage; it is strict
compliance with detailed and punctilious rule.
It admits of no exception or deviation. The stricter
the discipline, the greater the power of ritual over
action and character. In the training of animals
and the education of children it is the perfection,
inevitableness, invariableness, and relentlessness
of routine which tells. They should never experience
any exception or irregularity. Ritual is connected
with words, gestures, symbols, and signs. Associations
result, and, upon a repetition of the signal, the
act is repeated, whether the will assents or not.
Association and habit account for the phenomena.
Ritual gains further strength when it is rhythmical,
and is connected with music, verse, or other rhythmical
arts. Acts are ritually repeated at the recurrence
of the rhythmical points. The alternation of night
and day produces rhythms of waking and sleeping, of
labor and rest, for great numbers at the same time,
in their struggle for existence. The seasons
also produce rhythms in work. Ritual may embody
an idea of utility, expediency, or welfare, but it
always tends to become perfunctory, and the idea is
only subconscious. There is ritual in primitive
therapeutics, and it was not eliminated until very
recent times. The patient was directed, not only
to apply remedies, but also to perform rites.
The rites introduced mystic elements. This illustrates
the connection of ritual with notions of magical effects
produced by rites. All ritual is ceremonious
and solemn. It tends to become sacred, or to
make sacred the subject-matter with which it is connected.
Therefore, in primitive society, it is by ritual that
sentiments of awe, deference to authority, submission
to tradition, and disciplinary cooperation are inculcated.
Ritual operates a constant suggestion, and the suggestion
is at once put in operation in acts. Ritual,
therefore, suggests sentiments, but it never inculcates
doctrines. Ritual is strongest when it is most
perfunctory and excites no thought. By familiarity
with ritual any doctrinal reference which it once
had is lost by familiarity, but the habits persist.
Primitive religion is ritualistic, not because religion
makes ritual, but because ritual makes religion.
Ritual is something to be done, not something to be
thought or felt. Men can always perform the prescribed
act, although they cannot always think or feel prescribed
thoughts or emotions. The acts may bring up again,
by association, states of the mind and sentiments
which have been connected with them, especially in
childhood, when the fantasy was easily affected by
rites, music, singing, dramas, etc. No creed,
no moral code, and no scientific demonstration can
ever win the same hold upon men and women as habits
of action, with associated sentiments and states of
mind, drilled in from childhood. Mohammedanism
shows the power of ritual. Any occupation is
interrupted for the prayers and prescribed genuflections.
The Brahmíns also observe an elaborate daily ritual.
They devote to it two hours in the morning, two in
the evening, and one at midday. Monks and nuns
have won the extreme satisfaction of religious sentiment
from the unbroken habit of repeated ritual, with undisturbed
opportunity to develop the emotional effects of it.
68. The ritual of the mores.
The mores are social ritual in which we all participate
unconsciously. The current habits as to hours
of labor, meal hours, family life, the social intercourse
of the sexes, propriety, amusements, travel, holidays,
education, the use of periodicals and libraries, and
innumerable other details of life fall under this ritual.
Each does as everybody does. For the great mass
of mankind as to all things, and for all of us for
a great many things, the rule to do as all do suffices.
We are led by suggestion and association to believe
that there must be wisdom and utility in what all
do. The great mass of the folkways give us discipline
and the support of routine and habit. If we had
to form judgments as to all these cases before we could
act in them, and were forced always to act rationally,
the burden would be unendurable. Beneficent use
and wont save us this trouble.
69. Group interests and policy.
Groups select, consciously and unconsciously, standards
of group well living. They plan group careers,
and adopt purposes through which they hope to attain
to group self-realization. The historical classes
adopt the decisions which constitute these group plans
and acts, and they impose them on the group.
The Greeks were enthused at one time by a national
purpose to destroy Troy, at another time by a national
necessity to ward off Persian conquest. The Romans
conceived of their rivalry with Carthage as a struggle
from which only one state could survive. Spain,
through an effort to overthrow the political power
of the Moors in the peninsula and to make it all Christian,
was educated up to a national purpose to make Spain
a pure “Christian” state, in the dogmatic
and ecclesiastical sense of the word. Moors and
Jews were expelled at great cost and loss. Germany
and Italy cherished for generations a national hope
and desire to become unified states. Some attempts
to formulate or interpret the Monroe doctrine would
make it a national policy and programme for the United
States. In lower civilization group interests
and purposes are less definite. We must believe
that barbarous tribes often form notions of their
group interests, and adopt group policies, especially
in their relations with neighboring groups. The
Iroquois, after forming their confederation, made
war on neighboring tribes in order either to subjugate
them or to force them to come into the peace pact.
Pontiac and Tecumseh united the red men in a race
effort to drive the whites out of North America.
70. Group interests and folkways.
Whenever a group has a group purpose that purpose
produces group interests, and those interests overrule
individual interests in the development of folkways.
A group might adopt a pacific and industrial purpose,
but historical cases of this kind are very few.
It used to be asserted that the United States had as
its great social purpose to create a social environment
which should favor that development of the illiterate
and unskilled classes into an independent status for
which the economic conditions of a new country give
opportunity, and it was asserted that nothing could
cause a variation from this policy, which was said
to be secured in the political institutions and political
ideas of the people. Within a few years the United
States has been affected by an ambition to be a world
power. (A world power is a state which expects to
have a share in the settlement of every clash of interests
and collision of state policies which occurs anywhere
on the globe.) There is no reason to wonder at this
action of a democracy, for a democracy is sure to
resent any suggestion that it is limited in its functions,
as compared with other political forms. At the
same time that the United States has moved towards
the character of a world power it has become militant.
Other states in the past which have had group purposes
have been militant. Even when they arrived at
commerce and industry they have pursued policies which
involved them in war (Venice, Hansa, Holland).
Since the group interests override the individual
interests, the selection and determination of group
purposes is a function of the greatest importance
and an act of the greatest effect on individual welfare.
The interests of the society or nation furnish an
easy phrase, but such phrases are to be regarded with
suspicion. Such interests are apt to be the interests
of a ruling clique which the rest are to be compelled
to serve. On the other hand, a really great and
intelligent group purpose, founded on correct knowledge
and really sound judgment, can infuse into the mores
a vigor and consistent character which will reach
every individual with educative effect. The essential
condition is that the group purpose shall be “founded
on correct knowledge and really sound judgment.”
The interests must be real, and they must be interests
of the whole, and the judgment as to means of satisfying
them must be correct.
71. Force in the folkways.
Here we notice also the intervention of force.
There is always a large element of force in the folkways.
It constitutes another modification of the theory
of the folkways as expedient devices, developed in
experience, to meet the exigencies of life. The
organization of society under chiefs and medicine men
greatly increased the power of the society to serve
its own interests. The same is true of higher
political organizations. If Gian Galeazzo Visconti
or Cesare Borgia could have united Italy into a despotic
state, it is an admissible opinion that the history
of the peninsula in the following four or five hundred
years would have been happy and prosperous, and that,
at the present time, it would have had the same political
system which it has now. However, chiefs, kings,
priests, warriors, statesmen, and other functionaries
have put their own interests in the place of group
interests, and have used the authority they possessed
to force the societal organization to work and fight
for their interests. The force is that of the
society itself. It is directed by the ruling class
or persons. The force enters into the mores and
becomes a component in them. Despotism is in
the mores of negro tribes, and of all Mohammedan peoples.
There is an element of force in all forms of property,
marriage, and religion. Slavery, however, is the
grandest case of force in the mores, employed to make
some serve the interests of others, in the societal
organization. The historical classes, having selected
the group purposes and decided the group policy, use
the force of the society itself to coerce all to acquiesce
and to work and fight in the determined way without
regard to their individual interests. This they
do by means of discipline and ritual. In different
kinds of mores the force is screened by different
devices. It is always present, and brutal, cruel
force has entered largely into the development of all
our mores, even those which we think most noble and
excellent.
72. Might and right. Modern
civilized states of the best form are often called
jural states because the concept of rights enters so
largely into all their constitutions and regulations.
Our political philosophy centers around that concept,
and all our social discussions fall into the form
of propositions and disputes about rights. The
history of the dogma of rights has been such that rights
have been believed to be self-evident and self-existent,
and as having prevailed especially in primitive society.
Rights are also regarded as the opposite of force.
These notions only prove the antagonism between our
mores and those of earlier generations. In fact,
it is a characteristic of our mores that the form
of our thinking about all points of political philosophy
is set for us by the concept of rights. Nothing
but might has ever made right, and if we include in
might (as we ought to) elections and the decisions
of courts, nothing but might makes right now.
We must distinguish between the anterior and the posterior
view of the matter in question. If we are about
to take some action, and are debating the right of
it, the might which can be brought to support one view
of it has nothing to do with the right of it.
If a thing has been done and is established by force
(that is, no force can reverse it), it is right in
the only sense we know, and rights will follow from
it which are not vitiated at all by the force in it.
There would be no security at all for rights if this
were not so. We find men and parties protesting,
declaiming, complaining of what is done, and which
they say is not “right,” but only force.
An election decides that those shall have power who
will execute an act of policy. The defeated party
denounces the wrong and wickedness of the act.
It is done. It may be a war, a conquest, a spoliation;
every one must help to do it by paying taxes and doing
military service or other duty which may be demanded
of him. The decision of a lawsuit leaves one
party protesting and complaining. He always speaks
of “right” and “rights.”
He is forced to acquiesce. The result is right
in the only sense which is real and true. It is
more to the purpose to note that an indefinite series
of consequences follow, and that they create or condition
rights which are real and just. Many persons
now argue against property that it began in force and
therefore has no existence in right and justice.
They might say the same of marriage or religion.
Some do say the same of the state. The war of
the United States with Mexico in 1845 is now generally
regarded as unjustified. That cannot affect the
rights of all kinds which have been contracted in
the territory then ceded by Mexico or under the status
created on the land obtained by the treaty of peace
with that country. The whole history of mankind
is a series of acts which are open to doubt, dispute,
and criticism, as to their right and justice, but all
subsequent history has been forced to take up the consequences
of those acts and go on. The disputants about
“rights” often lose sight of the fact
that the world has to go on day by day and dispute
must end. It always ends in force. The end
always leaves some complaining in terms of right and
rights. They are overborne by force of some kind.
Therefore might has made all the right which ever
has existed or exists now. If it is proposed
to reverse, reform, or change anything which ever was
done because we now think that it was wrong, that
is a new question and a new case, in which the anterior
view alone is in place. It is for the new and
future cases that we study historical cases and form
judgments on them which will enable us to act more
wisely. If we recognize the great extent to which
force now enters into all which happens in society,
we shall cease to be shocked to learn the extent to
which it has been active in the entire history of
civilization. The habit of using jural concepts,
which is now so characteristic of our mores, leads
us into vague and impossible dreams of social affairs,
in which metaphysical concepts are supposed to realize
themselves, or are assumed to be real.
73. Status in the folkways.
If now we form a conception of the folkways as a great
mass of usages, of all degrees of importance, covering
all the interests of life, constituting an outfit of
instruction for the young, embodying a life policy,
forming character, containing a world philosophy,
albeit most vague and unformulated, and sanctioned
by ghost fear so that variation is impossible, we see
with what coercive and inhibitive force the folkways
have always grasped the members of a society.
The folkways create status. Membership in the
group, kin, family, neighborhood, rank, or class are
cases of status. The rights and duties of every
man and woman were defined by status. No one
could choose whether he would enter into the status
or not. For instance, at puberty every one was
married. What marriage meant, and what a husband
or wife was (the rights and duties of each), were fixed
by status. No one could alter the customary relations.
Status, as distinguished from institutions and contract,
is a direct product of the mores. Each case of
status is a nucleus of leading interest with the folkways
which cluster around it. Status is determined
by birth. Therefore it is a help and a hindrance,
but it is not liberty. In modern times status
has become unpopular and our mores have grown into
the forms of contract under liberty. The conception
of status has been lost by the masses in modern civilized
states. Nevertheless we live under status which
has been defined and guaranteed by law and institutions,
and it would be a great gain to recognize and appreciate
the element of status which historically underlies
the positive institutions and which is still subject
to the action of the mores. Marriage (matrimony
or wedlock) is a status. It is really controlled
by the mores. The law defines it and gives sanctions
to it, but the law always expresses the mores.
A man and a woman make a contract to enter into it.
The mode of entering into it (wedding) is fixed by
custom. The law only ratifies it. No man
and woman can by contract make wedlock different for
themselves from the status defined by law, so far
as social rights and duties are concerned. The
same conception of marriage as a status in the mores
is injured by the intervention of the ecclesiastical
and civil formalities connected with it. An individual
is born into a kin group, a tribe, a nation, or a
state, and he has a status accordingly which determines
rights and duties for him. Civil liberty must
be defined in accordance with this fact; not outside
of it, or according to vague metaphysical abstractions
above it. The body of the folkways constitutes
a societal environment. Every one born into it
must enter into relations of give and take with it.
He is subjected to influences from it, and it is one
of the life conditions under which he must work out
his career of self-realization. Whatever liberty
may be taken to mean, it is certain that liberty never
can mean emancipation from the influence of the societal
environment, or of the mores into which one was born.
74. Conventionalization. If
traditional folkways are subjected to rational or
ethical examination they are no longer naïve and unconscious.
It may then be found that they are gross, absurd, or
inexpedient. They may still be preserved by conventionalization.
Conventionalization creates a set of conditions under
which a thing may be tolerated which would otherwise
be disapproved and tabooed. The special conditions
may be created in fact, or they may be only a fiction
which all agree to respect and to treat as true.
When children, in play, “make believe”
that something exists, or exists in a certain way,
they employ conventionalization. Special conditions
are created in fact when some fact is regarded as
making the usual taboo inoperative. Such is the
case with all archaic usages which are perpetuated
on account of their antiquity, although they are not
accordant with modern standards. The language
of Shakespeare and the Bible contains words which are
now tabooed. In this case, as in very many others,
the conventionalization consists in ignoring the violation
of current standards of propriety. Natural functions
and toilet operations are put under conventionalization,
even in low civilization. The conventionalization
consists in ignoring breaches of the ordinary taboo.
On account of accidents which may occur, wellbred
people are always ready to apply conventionalization
to mishaps of speech, dress, manner, etc.
In fairy stories, fables, romances, and dramas all
are expected to comply with certain conventional understandings
without which the entertainment is impossible; for
instance, when beasts are supposed to speak.
In the mythologies this kind of conventionalization
was essential. One of us, in studying mythologies,
has to acquire a knowledge of the conventional assumptions
with which the people who believed in them approached
them. Modern Hindoos conventionalize the stories
of their mythology. What the gods are said to have
done is put under other standards than those now applied
to men. Everything in the mythology is on a plane
by itself. It follows that none of the rational
or ethical judgments are formed about the acts of the
gods which would be formed about similar acts of men,
and the corruption of morals which would be expected
as a consequence of the stories and dramas is prevented
by the conventionalization. There is no deduction
from what gods do to what men may do. The Greeks
of the fifth century B.C. rationalized on their mythology
and thereby destroyed it. The mediaeval church
claimed to be under a conventionalization which would
prevent judgment on the church and ecclesiastics according
to current standards. Very many people heeded
this conventionalization, so that they were not scandalized
by vice and crime in the church. This intervention
of conventionalization to remove cases from the usual
domain of the mores into a special field, where they
can be protected and tolerated by codes and standards
modified in their favor, is of very great importance.
It accounts for many inconsistencies in the mores.
In this way there may be nakedness without indecency,
and tales of adultery without lewdness. We observe
a conventionalization in regard to the Bible, especially
in regard to some of the Old Testament stories.
The theater presents numerous cases of conventionalization.
The asides, entrances and exits, and stage artifices,
require that the spectators shall concede their assent
to conventionalities. The dresses of the stage
would not be tolerated elsewhere. It is by conventionalization
that the literature and pictorial representations of
science avoid collision with the mores of propriety,
decency, etc. In all artistic work there
is more or less conventionalization. Uncivilized
people, and to some extent uneducated people amongst
ourselves, cannot tell what a picture represents or
means because they are not used to the conventionalities
of pictorial art. The ancient Saturnalia and the
carnival have been special times of license at which
the ordinary social restrictions have been relaxed
for a time by conventionalization. Our own Fourth
of July is a day of noise, risk, and annoyance, on
which things are allowed which would not be allowed
at any other time. We consent to it because “it
is Fourth of July.” The history of wedding
ceremonies presents very many instances of conventionalization.
Jests and buffoonery have been tolerated for the occasion.
They became such an annoyance that people revolted
against them, and invented means to escape them.
Dress used in bathing, sport, the drama, or work is
protected by conventionalization. The occasion
calls for a variation from current usage, and the
conventionalization, while granting toleration, defines
it also, and makes a new law for the exceptional case.
It is like taboo, and is, in fact, the form of taboo
in high civilization. Like taboo, it has two
aspects, it is either destructive or protective.
The conventionalization bars out what might be offensive
(i.e. when a thing may be done only under the conditions
set by conventionalization), or it secures toleration
for what would otherwise be forbidden. Respect,
reverence, sacredness, and holiness, which are taboos
in low civilization, become conventionalities in high
civilization.
75. Conventions indispensable.
Conventionality is often denounced as untrue and hypocritical.
It is said that we ought to be natural. Respectability
is often sneered at because it is a sum of conventionalities.
The conventionalizations which persist are the resultant
of experiments and experience as to the devices by
which to soften and smoothen the details of life.
They are indispensable. We might as well renounce
clothes as to try to abolish them.
76. The ethos or group character.
All that has been said in this chapter about the folkways
and the mores leads up to the idea of the group character
which the Greeks called the ethos, that is, the totality
of characteristic traits by which a group is individualized
and differentiated from others. The great nations
of southeastern Asia were long removed from familiar
contact with the rest of mankind and isolated from
each other, while they were each subjected to the
discipline and invariable rule of traditional folkways
which covered all social interests except the interferences
of a central political authority, which perpetrated
tyranny in its own interest. The consequence
has been that Japan, China, and India have each been
molded into a firm, stable, and well-defined unit
group, having a character strongly marked both actively
and passively. The governing classes of Japan
have, within fifty years, voluntarily abandoned their
traditional mores, and have adopted those of the Occident,
while it does not appear that they have lost their
inherited ethos. The case stands alone in history
and is a cause of amazement. In the war with Russia,
in 1904, this people showed what a group is capable
of when it has a strong ethos. They understand
each other; they act as one man; they are capable
of discipline to the death. Our western tacticians
have had rules for the percentage of loss which troops
would endure, standing under fire, before breaking
and running. The rule failed for the Japanese.
They stood to the last man. Their prowess at
Port Arthur against the strongest fortifications,
and on the battlefields of Manchuria, surpassed all
record. They showed what can be done in the way
of concealing military and naval movements when every
soul in the population is in a voluntary conspiracy
not to reveal anything. These traits belong to
a people which has been trained by generations of
invariable mores. It is apparently what the mediaeval
church wanted to introduce in Europe, but the Japanese
have got it without selfish tyranny of the ruling
persons and classes. Of course, it admits of no
personal liberty, and the consequences of introducing
occidental notions of liberty into it have yet to
be seen. “The blacksmith squats at his
anvil wielding a hammer such as no western smith could
use without long practice. The carpenter pulls
instead of pushing his extraordinary plane and saw.
Always the left is the right side, and the right side
the wrong. Keys must be turned, to open or close
a lock, in what we are accustomed to think the wrong
direction.” “The swordsman, delivering
his blow with both hands, does not pull the blade
towards him in the moment of striking, but pushes
it from him. He uses it indeed, as other Asiatics
do, not on the principle of the wedge, but of the saw."
In family manners the Japanese are gentle. Cruelty
even to animals appears to be unknown. “One
sees farmers coming to town, trudging patiently beside
their horses or oxen, aiding their dumb companions
to bear the burden, and using no whips or goads.
Drivers or pullers of carts will turn out of their
way, under the most provoking circumstances, rather
than overrun a lazy dog or a stupid chicken." Etiquette
is refined, elaborate, and vigorous. Politeness
has been diffused through all ranks from ancient times.
“The discipline of the race was self-imposed.
The people have gradually created their own social
conditions." “Demeanor was [in ancient times]
most elaborately and mercilessly regulated, not merely
as to obeisances, of which there were countless grades,
varying according to sex as well as class, but even
in regard to facial expression, the manner of smiling,
the conduct of the breath, the way of sitting, standing,
walking, rising." “With the same merciless
exactitude which prescribed rules for dress, diet,
and manner of life, all utterance was regulated both
positively and negatively, but positively much more
than negatively.... Education cultivated a system
of verbal etiquette so multiform that only the training
of years could enable any one to master it. The
astonishment evoked by Japanese sumptuary laws, particularly
as inflicted upon the peasantry, is justified, less
by their general character than by their implacable
minuteness, their ferocity of detail.”
“That a man’s house is his castle cannot
be asserted in Japan, except in the case of some high
potentate. No ordinary person can shut his door
to lock out the rest of the world. Everybody’s
house must be open to visitors; to close its gates
by day would be regarded as an insult to the community,
sickness affording no excuse. Only persons in
very great authority have the right of making themselves
inaccessible.... By a single serious mistake a
man may find himself suddenly placed in solitary opposition
to the common will, isolated, and most
effectively ostracized.” “The events
of the [modern] reconstruction strangely illustrate
the action of such instinct [of adaptation] in the
face of peril, the readjustment of internal
relations to sudden changes of environment. The
nation had found its old political system powerless
before the new conditions, and it transformed that
system. It had found its military organization
incapable of defending it, and it reconstructed that
organization. It had found its educational system
useless in the presence of unforeseen necessities,
and it had replaced that system, simultaneously crippling
the power of Buddhism, which might otherwise have offered
serious opposition to the new developments required."
To this it must be added that people who have had
commercial and financial dealings with Japanese report
that they are untruthful and tricky in transactions
of that kind. If they cannot “reform”
these traits there will be important consequences
of them in the developments of the near future.
77. Chinese ethos. It is evident
that we have in the Japanese a case of an ethos, from
the habits of artisans to the manners of nobles and
the military system, which is complete, consistent,
authoritative, and very different from our own.
A similar picture of the Chinese might be drawn, from
which it would appear that they also have a complete
and firm ethos, which resembles in general the Japanese,
but has its individual traits and characteristic differences.
The ethos of the Japanese, from the most ancient times,
has been fundamentally militant. That of the
Chinese is industrial and materialistic.
78. Hindoo ethos. The Hindoos,
again, have a strongly marked ethos. They have
a name for it kharma, which Nivedita
says might be translated “national righteousness.”
It “applies to that whole system of complex
action and interaction on planes moral, intellectual,
economic, industrial, political, and domestic, which
we know as India, or the national habit.... By
their attitude to it, Pathan, Mogul, and Englishman
are judged, each in his turn, by the Indian peasantry."
The ethos of one group always furnishes the standpoint
from which it criticises the ways of any other group.
79. European ethos. We are
familiar with the notion of “national character”
as applied to the nations of Europe, but these nations
do not have each an ethos. There is a European
ethos, for the nations have so influenced each other
for the last two thousand years that there is a mixed
ethos which includes local variations. The European
kharma is currently called Christian.
In the ancient world Egypt and Sparta were the two
cases of groups with the firmest and best-defined ethos.
In modern European history the most marked case is
that of Venice. In no one of these cases did
the elements of moral strength and societal health
preponderate, but the history of each showed the great
stability produced by a strong ethos. Russia
has a more complete and defined ethos than any other
state in Europe, although the efforts which have been
made since Peter the Great to break down the traditions
and limitations of the national ethos, and to adopt
the ethos of western Europe, have produced weakness
and confusion. It is clear what is the great power
of a strong ethos. The ethos of any group deserves
close study and criticism. It is an overruling
power for good or ill. Modern scholars have made
the mistake of attributing to race much which
belongs to the ethos, with a resulting controversy
as to the relative importance of nature and nurture.
Others have sought a “soul of the people”
and have tried to construct a “collective psychology,”
repeating for groups processes which are now abandoned
for individuals. Historians, groping for the
ethos, have tried to write the history of “the
people” of such and such a state. The ethos
individualizes groups and keeps them apart. Its
opposite is cosmopolitanism. It degenerates into
patriotic vanity and chauvinism. Industrialism
weakens it, by extending relations of commerce with
outside groups. It coincides better with militancy.
It has held the Japanese people like a single mailed
fist for war. What religion they have has lost
all character except that of a cohesive agent to hold
the whole close organization tight together.