Society And its Purpose
INTRODUCTION
1. Philosophy applied to politics investigates those immutable, universal principles which enable a reflective mind to make a correct judgment about everything capable of influencing civil society for good or evil. I have called these great principles political criteria(1) because they guide wise people in evaluating whatever has power to modify the condition of a social body.
2. Everything capable of modifying the social condition for good or harm may be considered as a force moving civil society either towards its legitimate end (by benefiting and improving the social condition), or away from this end (by harming society and bringing it closer to its destruction). The amount of power proper to such a force is relative to its positive or negative political worth, that is, to its capacity for effecting social progress or deterioration.
Clearly, the political criteria we are discussing are simply `rules according to which we must evaluate the positive or negative value of all the forces acting upon and moving civil society.’
3. When accurately evaluated, these forces enable us to foresee to some extent the future of civil society. Thus political criteria contain within themselves the important art of political foresight.
Furthermore, these forces, when under governmental control, become a means of government. Hence political criteria also form the rules according to which we must evaluate the means of government; they are the summation of the whole great art of the government of nations.
4. I have already indicated the nature and number of the sources of political criteria, but not their mutual relationship. By examining the nature of this relationship, we will see how all political criteria emanate from the four sources I have distinguished and how they can be divided into four classes.(2)
5. Politics may be defined as: `The art of directing civil society to its end by those means which pertain to civil government.’ This movement which must be applied to directing society towards its natural end is like the movement of a body whose location is changed. In this sense the art of government can truthfully be called social mechanics.
6. An engineer wishing to move a mass from one place to another must note and calculate four things if his effort is to succeed. First, he must consider the place to which he has to move the mass. Next, he must study the nature, form and weight of the mass. Third, he has to calculate the forces of the levers, capstans and other devices he will use and apply to the mass. Finally, he must be thoroughly familiar with the laws of motion. To accomplish the task, therefore, he must study: 1. the term of the movement; 2. the nature of the thing to be moved; 3. the forces to be applied; 4. the laws of motion.
7. These are precisely the considerations that have to be made by a mind responsible for directing civil society. We must know first, the legitimate end determining the institution and direction of civil society; second, the nature of civil society, that is, its natural constitution. Third, we have to calculate the forces capable of moving society, that is, those found in the nature of things, those set up by human beings, those which the government can and must use, and those which of themselves disrupt government action. Finally, the great laws of social movement or progress must be thought through — opposition to, or contradiction of the natural laws of society’s movement would certainly be a profitless operation.
8. We can easily see how the whole art of politics is ultimately reduced to these four headings, which are the topics of an equal number of noble theories. These headings are the four sources of the supreme rules constituting political logic by which the means of government can be justly evaluated — `criteria’ as I have called them.
9. These rules must be universal, immutable principles. Principles endowed with these characteristics can have their foundation only in the nature of things, that is, in their essential being, which is always the same. We can find something immutable and constant in human society despite its vicissitudes and ceaseless fluctuations; indeed, we find that the end, nature and movements of society, together with the laws of its development, are stable and unchanging. If we disregard the variations in 1. the purpose for which civil society is founded, 2. its construction, 3. the forces that move it, 4. the successive stages of its development, we then finally retain only that which is invariable and necessary in each of the four elements. In other words, we discover the foundation of the universal principles and the explanation of all the variable elements that appear in the limitless accidents and changes of political societies.
10. What has been said will clarify the scope of this book which, like my previous work, The Summary Cause for the Stability or Downfall of Human Societies, forms only a tiny part of the Philosophy of Politics.
11. I must indicate the place of this part in the great corpus of political philosophy and its relationship with the small part that preceded it.
12. This work, and the work on the summary cause for the stability and downfall of human societies, deals with the first of the four classes of political criteria, that is, they deal with the criteria established through consideration of the END of political society.
13. If we bear in mind that political society is continually fluctuating in its movement towards or away from its end, we shall easily see that its ultimate perfection and ideal will never be achieved and realised, however close society comes to achieving its end. Similarly society, despite distancing itself from its perfect ideal and suffering continual deterioration, comes to the opposite extreme of total deterioration only when it disintegrates. Hence, both its perfection (that is, the end which it has actually achieved) and its destruction can be considered as two limits between which every social body perpetually and restlessly oscillates.
14. In The Summary Cause etc., I considered society in so far as it moves contrary to its end and ultimately reaches destruction. Reflections on this kind of movement led me to deduce the criterion `by which to distinguish in society the element on which it rests.’ The aim would be to protect this element from every danger even at the cost of sacrificing, if necessary, every accidental advantage. I also indicated the changes in position which take place in this substantial element through the continual development of society (which is never static). I showed where the element must be sought, and can in fact be found, at different periods in the existence of society.
15. This discussion concerned only the lower limit of the end of society. But the end can and must be considered relative to its higher limit, that is, to the ideal perfection of society. This is my intention in the present work.
16. I will indicate briefly the order in which the matter will be treated.
The subject to be discussed is civil society. Although civil society is only a particular society, it is too often confused with either human society or universal sociality or society understood generically and abstractly. Civil society and its concept must be carefully distinguished from all societies of this kind and from all such conceptions of society. However, it is impossible to discuss civil association accurately unless we first consider the characteristics common to all associations and determine what constitutes the essence of human society in general.
17. Everything I say will clearly demonstrate that many very harmful errors were introduced into political science as a direct result of negligence in considering attentively the essential element common to all human associations. Civil society has been studied without the consideration and careful determination of its preliminary, fundamental notions which alone provide a solid, immutable foundation for the subsequent discussion of particular societies.
18. Our subject, therefore, divides naturally into two.
First, we must clarify the general notions of society, determine its unique essence (always the same in every particular association), examine the end common to all societies (the essentially social end) and finally indicate both the deviations which society in general can make from this end, and its direct approach to the end.
Next, we must move from these generalities to apply the established principles to civil society and its particular end. This will provide us with secure criteria for judging good and harmful means of government, the vision proper to eminent politicians, and the illusions and sophisms — in a word, the errors — to which rulers can be subject.
19. The destiny of peoples is sacred and of the utmost importance; no effort is too great nor meditation too deep in such a matter where a single error may determine the morality, dignity and happiness of many human generations. Unfortunately, this science is still, in my opinion, bereft of absolute principles. People have formed their political opinions in three ways: 1. according to the basic instincts of their own individual interests which act as blind guides to practical conduct; 2. simply on the material aspect of facts, sanctified and made into rights; 3. according to those imperfect, exclusive notions which at various times set the fashion but are alternatively espoused and repudiated by ignorant hot-heads who form the core of the parties from which the astute profit. Among the countless authors writing on politics after the Renaissance we rarely find anyone who is not inspired by some particular party or selfish prejudices. Generally speaking, the flaccid style and narrow vision even of unprejudiced authors, whose minds have not been honed by experience and exercised in public affairs, make their books impossible to read.
The defect of more modern writers is caused by the very popularity they ostentatiously seek. This popularity would be of great value provided it were not considered as a means for the acquisition of petty glory, love of which causes so much jealousy amongst authors. Popularity whose purpose is to instruct people and provide them with accurate and, above all, well-determined ideas of things is indeed of sublime worth. On the whole, however, popular ideas are rendered defective by their vagueness, lack of restraint and poor definition.
20. There is another kind of popularity. This, instead of providing people with precise, well-defined ideas, takes the few, simple, undefined, exclusive and imperfect ideas people have and envelops them in a sea of words and phrases which impress the imagination. The words seem clear and apparently full of meaning; in fact, they are senseless (this is what those writers call eloquence!). The ideas, which are praised to the skies by their authors, are then restored to the masses who receive them as their own. Unrestrained and every violent passion stored up in the human heart will pour out upon any so-called sceptic who dares change a word of these sacred formulas!
This false popularity is simply base adulation of the people. God grant that few authors may succumb to the attraction of popular acclaim and allow it to draw them down to the people from the height of new-found culture, or lead them to abandon the study of wisdom for the sake of eloquence dependent upon popular opinion and passion. God grant that, if things carry on like this, not all authors will be tarred with the same brush!
21. This harmful, false popularity explains the scarcity of formal, scientific, political works; it explains the flood of books devoid of any systematic connection between notions that might force comparison and assessment of ideas, and their consequent limitation and subjection. These constantly unstable ideas are expressed in sloppy phrases, occasionally acerbic but more frequently poisoned by cunning falsity. Consequently, we very rarely find, even in works written by learned persons, a completed thought, a relevant view, a non-exclusive theory, an opinion or sympathy not pushed to excess. Only excess, by its very monstrosity, awakens attention and pleases the multitude of readers, who prefer to hear what is new and strange than learn what is true and useful.
22. Our own preference is that writers should constitute a school of truth and virtue, making themselves `popular’ in the true, noble sense of the word by inviting everybody to be nourished in this school. Authors should write at the level of the people, in a clear, simple style, but not at the expense of thought. The masses should be able to understand everything they read and at the same time find instruction in it. If they are drawn to further reflection, they can modify their ideas and opinion by verifying, comparing, determining and expanding them. Let them enjoy their reading, even passionately, provided enjoyment comes from the light of truth as it penetrates their minds, and from gentle modesty and benevolence as it informs their hearts. The passions they experience should draw them to heroic virtue, freeing them from blind, turbulent slavery to vice. Holy popularity of this kind deserves the highest praise; it makes writers into masters and fathers of the human race. Such a sublime mission cannot be accomplished in any way by those who debase themselves to follow sycophantically the people whom they should lead.
23. We have to admit, however, that exact teaching cannot be made popular all at once. It has first to be discovered, then discussed by a few. Only when the discussion of learned persons has clarified, tested and determined the teaching can it be communicated without danger to the people.
Imparting this knowledge to the people is the work of a special class of writers deeply committed to public advancement. It is a splendid task whose reward is universal recognition. But because human forces are limited, those who give the public useful, accurate and certain teaching cannot be the persons who first meditate, discuss and determine teaching with scientific rigour. It is indeed more difficult and more meritorious to discover and determine scientifically a teaching useful to the people than to communicate it; the prior task is more modest and, I would say, more hidden. Only the few who live for their thoughts and studies, debating obscure, unrefined questions expressed in the technical vocabulary of the laboratory, as it were, know the extent and difficulty of the work involved in such questions. The people see nothing of this; they mock as bizarre and eccentric the little they do see. Nevertheless the hard, slow, obscure grind of the learned must provide the subject-matter for popular authors and books just as miners toiling deep in the earth and broken with work provide gold and diamonds for the makers of fashionable jewellery.
24. For myself, I have nearly always followed the lower and more obscure of the two functions. My only hope is that this present work will be seen by a few honest thinkers and friends of humanity as a stimulus to conscientious discussion and a more accurate determination of some of the great questions arising from the scientific study of society — a study from which a science could finally be constituted. One day, perhaps, social science will be expressed by rigorous formulas and evident proofs which outdo even mathematical disciplines.
Surely it is more important to ascertain and clarify the truths on which fortunes, peace, life, dignity, the sanctity of the family and of the nation depend than to learn how to move great blocks of stone or raise water, or even to calculate the orbit of the stars? Why do we study so hard both to demonstrate that a mathematical proof is logically exact and to prevent political reasoning from rigidly pursuing a safe path while at the same time we allow glib thought to hide behind the confusion of vague assertions full of equivocation? We are not so much afraid of nailing down the elusive truth by reasoning rigorously; rather, we fear a miserable disaster — that many people would be silenced who hope to gain more from the free use of their tongue than from the possession of truth. It is a fact that the enemies of truth are fewer in number than the lovers of utility. There are many young Ulysses for whom the maxim given by the astute king of Ithaca to Neoptolemus is more attractive than immortal virtue:
Listen, son of so sublime a father,
In youth I was prepared to toil
With active arm and silent tongue.
Now that I’m old and time has passed
I know full well that labour’s naught;
The tongue alone prevails.(3)
Notes
(1) Cf. the Preface preceding the Classification of Political Works [SC, 1–16].
(2) Cf. Schema of the Philosophy of Politics after the Preface to the Political Works [SC, 17].
(3) Sophocles, Philoctetes.