SigPhi · Herbert Spencer

The Study of Sociology

English

Page 4 of 33

In addition to that passive denial of a Social Science im plied by these two allied doctrines, one or other of which is held by nine men out of ten, there comes from some an active denial of it — either entire or partial. Reasons are given for the belief that no such thing is possible. The invalidity of these reasons can be shown only after the essential nature of Social Science, overlooked by those who give them, has been pointed out; and to point this out here would be to forestal the argument. Some minor criticisms may, however, fitly precede the major criticism. Let us consider first the positions taken up by Mr. Froude: — " When natural causes are liable to be set aside and neutralized by what is called volition, the word Science is out of place. If it is free to a man to choose what he will do or not, do, there is no adequate science of him. If there is a science of him, there is no free choice, and the praise or blame with which we regard one another are im pertinent and out of place." ' " It is in this marvellous power in men to do wrong...that the impossibility stands of forming scientific calculations of what men will do "before the fact, or scientific explanations of what they have done after the fact." 8 " Mr. Buckle would deliver himself from the eccentricities of this and that individual by a doctrine of averages...Unfortunately the average of one generation need not be the average of the next:...no two generations are alike." 9 " There [in history] the phenomena never repeat themselves. There we are dependent wholly on the record of things said to have hap pened once, but which never happen or can happen a second time. There no experiment is possible; we can watch for no recurring fact to test the worth of our conjectures." 10 Here Mr. Froude changes the venue, and joins issue on the old battle-ground of free will versus necessity: declaring a Social Science to be incompatible with free will. The first extract implies, not simply that individual volition is incal culable — that " there is no adequate science of " man (no Sci ence of Psychology); but it also asserts, by implication, that there are no causal relations among his states of mind: the volition by which " natural causes are liable to be set aside," being1 put in antithesis to natural, must be supernatural. Hence we are, in fact, carried back to that primitive form of interpretation contemplated at the outset. A further com ment is, that because volitions of some kinds cannot be fore seen, Mr. Froude argues as though no volitions can be fore seen: ignoring the fact that the simple volitions determining ordinary conduct, are so regular that prevision having a high degree of probability is easy. If, in crossing a street, a man sees a carriage coming upon him, you may safely assert that, in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases out of a thousand, be will try to get out of the way. If, being pressed to catch a train, he knows that by one route it is a mile to the station and by another two miles, you may conclude with consider able confidence that he will take the one-mile route; and should he be aware that losing the train will lose him a for tune, it is pretty certain that, if he has but ten minutes to do the mile in, he will either run or call a cab. If he can buy next door a commodity of daily consumption better and cheaper than at the other end of the town, we may affirm that, if he does not buy next door, some special relation be tween him and the remoter shop-keeper furnishes a strong reason for taking a worse commodity at greater cost of money and trouble. And though, if he has an estate to dispose of, it is within the limits of possibility that he will sell it to A for £1,000, though B has offered £2,000 for it; yet the unusual motives leading to such an act need scarcely be taken into account as qualifying the generalization that a man will sell to the highest bidder. Now, since the predominant activities of citizens are determined by motives of this degree of regu larity, there must be resulting social phenomena that have corresponding degrees of regularity — greater degrees, indeed, since in them the effects of exceptional motives become lost in the effects of the aggregate of ordinary motives. Another comment may be added. Mr. Froude exaggerates the antith esis he draws by using a conception of science which is too narrow: he speaks as though there were no science but exact science. Scientific previsions, both qualitative and quantita tive, have various degrees of definiteness; and because among IS THERE A SOCIAL SCIENCE! 35 certain classes of phenomena the previsions are approximate only, it is not, therefore, to be said that there is no science of those phenomena: if there is some prevision, there is some sci ence. Take, for example, Meteorology. The Derby has been run in a snow-storm, and you may occasionally want a fire in July; but such anomalies do not prevent us from being per fectly certain that the coming summer will be warmer than the past winter. Our south-westerly gales in the autumn may come early or may come late, may be violent or moderate, at one time or at intervals; but that there will be an excess of wind from the south-west at that part of the year we may be sure. The like holds with the relations of rain and dry weather to the quantity of water in the air and the weight of the at mospheric column: though exactly-true predictions cannot be made, approximately-true ones can. So that, even were there not among social phenomena more definite relations than these (arid the all-important ones are far more definite), there would still be a Social Science. Once more, Mr. Froude con tends that the facts presented in history do not furnish subjectmatter for science, because they '* never repeat themselves,"— because u we can watch for no recurring fact to test the worth of our conjectures." I will not meet this assertion by the counter-assertion often made, that historic phenomena do re peat themselves; but, admitting that Mr. Froude here touches on one of the great difficulties of the Social Science (that social phenomena are in so considerable a degree different in each case from what they were in preceding cases), I still find a sufficient reply. For in no concrete science is there absolute repetition; and in some concrete sciences the repetition is no more specific than in Sociology. Even in the most exact of them, Astronomy, the combinations are never the same twice over; the repetitions are but approximate. And on turning to Geology, we find that, though the processes of denudation, deposition, upheaval, subsidence, have been ever going on in conformity with laws more or less clearly generalized, the effects have been always new in their proportions and ar rangements; though not so completely new as to forbid com parisons, consequent deductions, and approximate previsions based on them.

Were there no such replies as these to Mr. Froude's reasons, there would still be the reply furnished by his own inter pretations of history; which make it clear that his denial must be understood as but a qualified one. Against his pixrfessed theory may be set his actual practice, which, as it seems to me, tacitly asserts that explanations of some social phenomena in terms of cause and effect are possible, if not explanations of all social phenomena. Thus, respecting the Vagrancy Act of 1547, which made a slave of a confirmed vagrant, Mr. Froude says: — " In the condition of things which was now commencing...neither this nor any other penal act against idleness could be practically enforced." " That is to say, the operation of an agency brought into play was neu tralized by the operation of natural causes coexisting. Again, respecting the enclosure of commons and amalgamation of farms, &c., Mr. Froude writes: — " Under the late reign these tendencies had, with great difficulty, been held partially in check, but on the death of Henry they acquired new force and activity." ia Or, in other words, certain social forces previ ously antagonized by certain other forces, produced their nat-' ural effects when the antagonism ceased. Yet again, Mr.

Froude explains that, " unhappily, two causes [debased cur rency and an alteration of the farming system] were operating to produce the rise of prices." I3 And throughout Mr. Froude's History of England there are, I need scarcely say, other cases in which he ascribes social changes to causes rooted in human nature. Moreover, in his lecture on The Science of History, there is a distinct enunciation of "one lesson of History;" namely, that " the moral law is written on the tablets of eter nity Justice and truth alone endure and live. In justice and falsehood may be long-lived, but doomsday comes at last to them, in French revolutions and other terrible ways." And elsewhere he says that " the miseries and horrors which are now destroying the Chinese Empire are the direct and or ganic results of the moral profligacy of its inhabitants." " Each of these statements tacitly asserts that certain social rela tions, and actions of certain kinds, are inevitably beneficial, and others inevitably detrimental — an historic induction fur nishing a basis for positive deduction. So that we must not interpret Mr. Froude too literally when he alleges the " impos sibility of forming scientific calculations of what men will do before the fact, or scientific explanations of what they have done after the fact."

Another writer who denies the possibility of a Social Science, or who, at any rate, admits it only as a science which lias its relations of phenomena so traversed by providential influences that it does not come within the proper definition of a science, is Canon Kingsley. In his address on The Limits of Exact Science as applied to History, he says: — " You say that as the laws of matter are inevitable, so probably are the laws of human life? Be it so: but in what sense are the laws of matter inevitable? Potentially or actually? Even in the seemingly most uniform and universal law, where do we find the inevitable or the irresistible? Is there not in nature a perpetual competition of law against law, force against force, producing the most endless and unexpected variety of results? Cannot each law be interfered with at any moment by some other law, so that the first law, though it may struggle for the mastery, shall be for an indefinite time utterly de feated? The law of gravity is immutable enough: but do all stones veritably fall to the ground? Certainly not, if I choose to catch one, and keep it in my hand. It remains there by laws: and the law of gravity is there, too, making it feel heavy in rny hand: but it has not fallen to the ground, and will not, till I let it. So much for the inev itable action of the laws of gravity, as of others. Potentially, it is immutable; but actually, it can be conquered by other laws." 15 This passage, severely criticized, if I remember rightly, when the address was originally published, it would be scarcely fair to quote were it not that Canon Kingsley has repeated it at a later date in his work, The Roman and the Teuton. The 'very unusual renderings of scientific ideas which it contains, need here be only enumerated. Mr. Kingsley differs pro foundly from philosopher's and men of science, in regarding a law as itself a power or force, and so in thinking of one law as " conquered by other laws; " whereas the accepted concep tion of law is that of an established order, to which the mani festations of a power or force conform. He enunciates, too, a quite-exceptional view of gravitation. As conceived by as tronomers and physicists, gravitation is a universal and everacting force, which portions of matter exercise on one another when at sensible distances; arid the law of this force is that it varies directly as the mass and inversely as the square of the distance. Mr. Kingsley's view, is that the law of gravitation is "defeated" if a stone is prevented from falling to the ground— that the law "struggles" (not the force), and that be cause it no longer produces motion, the " inevitable action of the laws of gravity '' (not of gravity) is suspended: the truth being that neither the force nor its law is in the slightest de gree modified. Further, the theory of natural processes which Mr. Kingsley has arrived at, seems to be that when two or more forces (or laws, if he prefers it) come into play, there is a partial or complete suspension of one by another. Whereas the doctrine held by men of science is, that the forces are all in full operation, and tl\e effect is their resultant; so that, for example, when a shot is fired horizontally from a cannon, the force impressed on it produces in a given time just the same amount of horizontal motion as though gravity were absent, while gravity produces in that same time a fall just equal to that which it would have produced had the shot been dropped from the mouth of the cannon. Of course, holding these pe culiar views of causation as displayed among simple physical phenomena, Canon Kingsley is consistent in denying histori cal sequence; and in saying that "as long as man has the mysterious power of breaking the laws of his own being, such a sequence not only cannot be discovered, but it cannot exist." " At the same time it is manifest that until he comes to some agreement with men of science respecting conceptions of forces, of their laws, and of the modes in which phenomena produced by compositions of forces are interpretable in terms of compound laws, no discussion of the question at issue can be carried on with profit.

Without waiting for such an agreement, however, which is probably somewhat remote. Canon Kingsley's argument may be met by putting side by side with it some of his own conclu sions set forth elsewhere. In an edition of Alton Locke pub lished since the delivery of the address above quoted from, there is a new preface containing, among others, the following passages: — " The progress towards institutions more and more popular may be slow, but it is sure. Whenever any class has conceived the hope of being fairly represented, it is certain to fulfil its own hopes, unless it employs, or provokes, violence impossible in England. The thing will be.11..."If any young gentlemen look forward...to a Conservative reaction of any other kind than this...to even the least stoppage of what the world calls progress — which I should define as the putting in practice the results of inductive science; — then do they, like King Picrochole in Rabelais, look for a kingdom which shall be restored to them at the coming of the Cocqcigrues." l8 And in a preface addressed to workingmen, contained in an earlier edition, he says: — " If you are better off than you were in 1848, you owe it principally to those laws of political economy (as they are called), which I call the brute natural accidents of supply and demand," &c.19 Which passages offer explanations of changes now gone by as having been wrought out by natural forces in conformity with natural laws, and also predictions of changes which natural forces at present in action will work out That is to say, by the help of generalized experiences there is an inter pretation of past phenomena and a prevision of future phe nomena. There is an implicit recognition of that Social Sci ence which is explicitly denied.

A reply to these criticisms may be imagined. In looking for whatever reconciliation is possible between these positions which seem so incongruous, we must suppose the intended assertion to be, that only general interpretations and previs ions can be made, not those which are special. Bearing in mind Mr. Froude's occasional explanations of historical phe nomena as naturally caused, we must conclude that he be lieves certain classes of sociological facts (as the politico-eco nomical) to be scientifically explicable, while other classes are not: though, if this be his view, it is not clear how, if the re sults of men's wills, separate or aggregated, are incalculable, politico-economical actions can be dealt with scientifically; since, equally with other social actions, they are determined by aggregated wills. Similarly, Canon Kingsley, recognizing no less distinctly economical laws, and enunciating also cer tain laws of progress — nay, even warning his hearers against the belief that he denies the applicability of the inductive method to social phenomena, — must be assumed to think that the applicability of the inductive method is here but partial. Citing the title of his address and some of its sentences, he may say they imply simply that there are limits to the expla nation of social facts in precise ways; though this position does not seem really reconcilable with the doctrine that social laws are liable to be at any time overruled, providentially or otherwise. But, merely hinting these collateral criticisms, this reply is to be met by the demurrer that it is beside the question. If the sole thing- meant is that sociological previs ions can be approximate only — if the thing denied is the pos sibility of reducing Sociology to the form of an exact science; then the rejoinder is that the thing denied is a thing which no one has affirmed. Only a moiety of science is exact science — only phenomena of certain orders have had their relations expressed quantitatively as well as qualitatively. Of the re maining orders there are some produced by factors so numer ous and so hard to measure, that to develop our knowledge of their relations into the quantitative form will be extremely difficult, if not impossible. But these orders of phenomena are not therefore excluded from the conception of Science. In Geology, in Biology, in Psychology, most of the previsions are qualitative only; and where they are quantitative their quantitativeness, never quite definite, is mostly very indefinite.

Nevertheless we unhesitatingly class these previsions as scien tific. It is thus with Sociology. The phenomena it presents, involved in a higher degree than all others, are less than all other, capable of precise treatment: such of them as can be generalized, can be generalized only within wide limits of variation as to time and amount; and there remains much that cannot be generalized. But so far as there can be gener alization, and so far as there can be interpretation based on it, so far there can be science. Whoever expresses political opin ions — whoever asserts that such or such public arrangements will be beneficial or detrimental, tacitly expresses belief in a Social Science; for he asserts, by implication, that there is a natural sequence among social actions, and that as the sequence is natural results may be foreseen.

Reduced to a more concrete form, the case may be put thus: — Mr. Froude and Canon Kingsley both believe to a con siderable extent in the efficiency of legislation — probably to a greater extent than it is believed in by some of those who assert the existence of a Social Science. To believe in the efficiency of legislation is to believe that certain prospective penalties or rewards will act as deterrents or incentives— will modify individual conduct, and therefore modify social ac tion. Though it may be impossible to say that a given law will produce a foreseen effect on a particular person, yet no doubt is felt that it will produce a foreseen effect on the mass of persons. Though Mr. Froude, when arguing against Mr. Buckle, says that he " would deliver himself from the eccen tricities of this and that individual by a doctrine of averages," but that " unfortunately, the average of one generation need not be the average of the next; " yet Mr. Froude himself so far believes in the doctrine of averages as to hold that legis lative interdicts, with threats of death or imprisonment be hind them, will restrain the great majority of men in ways which can be predicted. While he contends that the results of individual will are incalculable, yet, by approving certain laws and condemning others, he tacitly affirms that the results of the aggregate of wills are calculable. And if this be as serted of the aggregate of wills as affected by legislation, it must be asserted of the aggregate of wills as affected by social influences at large. If it be held that the desire to avoid punishment will so act on the average of men as to produce an average foreseen result; then it must also be held that on the average of men, the desire to get the greatest return for la bour, the desire to rise into a higher rank of life, the desire to gain applause, and so forth, will each of them poduce a certain average result. And to hold this is to hold that there can be prevision of social phenomena, and therefore Social Science.

In brief, then, the alternative positions are these. On the one hand, if there is no natural causation throughout the ac tions of incorporated humanity, government and legislation are absurd. Acts of Parliament may, as well as not, be made to depend on the drawing of lots or the tossing of a coin; or, rather, there may as well be none at all: social sequences having no ascertainable order, no effect can be counted upon — everything is chaotic. On the other hand, if there is natu ral causation, then the combination of forces by which every combination of effects is produced, produces that combination of effects in conformity with the laws of the forces. And if so, it behoves us to use all diligence in ascertaining what the forces are, what are their laws, and what are the ways in which they co-operate.

Such further elucidation as is possible will be gained by discussing- the question to which we now address ourselves — the Nature of the Social Science. Along with a definite idea of this, will come a perception that the denial of a Social Sci ence has arisen from the confusing of two essentially-different classes of phenomena which societies present — the one class, almost ignored by historians, constituting the subject-matter of Social Science, and the other class, almost exclusively occu pying them, admitting of scientific co-ordination in a very small degree, if at all.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER III.

OUT of bricks, well burnt, hard, and sharp-angled, lying1 in heaps by his side, the bricklayer builds, even without mortar, a wall of some height that has considerable stability. With bricks made of bad materials, irregularly burnt, warped, cracked, and many of them broken, he cannot build a dry wall of the same height and stability. The dockyard-labourer, piling cannon-shot, is totally unable to make these spherical masses stand at all as the bricks stand. There are, indeed, certain definite shapes into which they may be piled — that of a tetrahedron, or that of a pyramid having a square base, or that of an elongated wedge allied to the pyramid. In any of these forms they may be put together symmetrically and stably; but not in forms with vertical sides or highly-inclined sides. Once more, if, instead of equal spherical shot, the masses to be piled are boulders, partially but irregularly rounded, and of various sizes, no definite stable form is possible. A loose heap, indefinite in its surface and angles, is all the labourer can make of them. Putting which several facts together, and ask ing what is the most general truth they imply, we see it to be this — that the character of the aggregate is determined by the characters of the units.

If we pass from units of these visible, tangible kinds, to the units contemplated by chemists and physicists as making up masses of matter, the same truth meets us. Each so-called element, each combination of elements, each re-combination of the compounds, has a form of crystallization. Though its crystals differ in their sizes, and are liable to be modified by truncations of angles and apices, as well as by partial mergings into one another, yet the type of structure, as shown by cleavage, is constant: particular kinds of molecules severally have particular shapes into which they settle themselves as they aggregate. And though in some cases it happens that a suhstance, simple or compound, has two or even more forms of aggregation, yet the recognized interpretation is, that these different forms are the forms assumed by molecules made dif ferent in their structures by allotropic or isomeric changes. So constant is the relation between the nature of any mole cules and their mode of crystallizing, that, given two kinds of molecules which are known, from their chemical actions, to be closely allied in their natures, and it is inferred with cer tainty that their crystals will be closely allied. In brief, it may be unhesitatingly affirmed, as an outcome of physics and chemistry, that throughout all phenomena presented by dead matter, the natures of the units necessitate certain traits in the aggregates.

This truth is again exemplified by aggregates of living matter. In the substance of each species of plant or animal, there is a proclivity towards the structure which that plant or animal presents — a proclivity conclusively proved *in cases where the conditions to the maintenance of life are sufficient ly simple, and wrhere the tissue has not assumed a structure too finished to permit re-arrangement. The perpetually-cited case of the polype, each part of which, when it is cut into several, presently puts on the polype-shape, and gains struc tures and powers like those of the original whole, illustrates this truth among animals. Among plants it is well exempli fied by the Begonias. Here a complete plant grows from a fragment of a leaf stuck in the ground; and, in Begonia pliyllomaniaca, complete plants grow even out of scales that fall from the leaves and the stem — a fact showing, like the fact which the polype furnishes, that the units everywhere present, have for their type of aggregation the type of the organism they belong to; and reminding us of the universal fact that the units composing every germ, animal or vegetal, have a proclivity towards the parental type of aggregation.

Thus, given the natures of the units, and the nature of the aggregate they form is pre-determined. I say the nature, meaning, of course, the essential traits, and not including the incidental. By the characters of the units are necessitated certain limits within which the characters of the aggregate must fall. The circumstances attending1 aggregation greatly modify the results; but the truth here to be recognized is, that these circumstances, in some cases perhaps preventing aggregation altogether, in other cases impeding it, in other cases facilitating it more or less, can never give to the aggre gate, characters that do not consist with the characters of the units. No favouring conditions will give the labourer power to pile cannon-shot into a vertical wall; no favouring con ditions will make it possible for common salt, which crys tallizes on the regular system, to crystallize, like sulphate of soda, on the oblique prismatic system; no favouring con ditions will enable the fragment of a polype to take on the structure of a mollusk.

Among such social aggregates as inferior creatures fall into, more or less definitely, the same truth holds. Whether they live in a mere assemblage, or whether they live in something like an organized union with division of labour among its members, as happens in many cases, is unquestion ably determined by the properties of the units. Given the structures and consequent instincts of the individuals as we find them, and the community they form will inevitably present certain traits; and no community having such traits can be formed out of individuals having other structures and instincts.

Those who have been brought up in the belief that there is one law for the rest of the Universe and another law for man kind, will doubtless be astonished by the proposal to include aggregates of men in this generalization. And yet that the properties of the units determine the properties of the whole they make up, evidently holds of societies as of other things. A general survey of tribes and nations, past and present, shows clearly enough that it is so; and a brief considera tion of the conditions shows, with no less clearness, that it must be so.

Ignoring for the moment the special traits of races and in dividuals, observe the traits common to members of the spe cies at large; and consider how these must affect their rela tions when associated.

They have all needs for food, and have corresponding desires. To all of them exertion is a physiological expense; must bring a certain return of nutriment, if it is not to be detrimental; and is accompanied by repugnance when pushed to excess, or even before reaching it. They are all of them liable to bodily injury, without accompanying pain, from va rious extreme physical actions; and they are liable to emo tional pains, of positive and negative kinds, from one an other's actions. As says Shylock, insisting on that human nature which Jews have in common with Christians — " Hath not a Jew eyes? hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer, as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? if you tickle us, do we not laugh I if you poison us, do we not die I and if you wrong us, shall we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will resemble you in that."

Conspicuous, however, as is this possession of certain fun damental qualities by all individuals, there is no adequate recognition of the truth that from these individual qualities must result certain qualities in an assemblage of individuals; that in proportion as the individuals forming one assemblage are like in their qualities to the individuals forming another assemblage, the two assemblages will have likenesses; and that the assemblages will differ in their characters in propor tion as the component individuals of the one differ from those of the other. Yet when this, which is almost a truism, has been admitted, it cannot be denied that in every community there is a group of phenomena growing naturally out of the phenomena presented by its members — a set of properties in the aggregate determined by the sets of properties in the units; arid that the relations of the two sets form the subjectmatter of a science. It needs but to ask what would happen if men avoided one another, as various inferior creatures do, to see that the very possibility of a society depends on a cer tain emotional property in the individual. It needs but to ask what would happen if each man liked best the men who gave him most pain, to perceive that social relations, suppos ing them to be possible, would be utterly unlike the social relations resulting from the greater liking which men indi- NATURE OP THE SOCIAL SCIENCE. 4.7 vidually have for others who give them pleasure. It needs but to ask what would happen if, instead of ordinarily prefer ring the easiest ways of achieving their ends, men preferred to achieve their ends in the most troublesome ways, to infer that then, a society, if one could exist, would be a widely-dif ferent society from any we know. And if, as these extreme cases show us, cardinal traits in societies are determined by cardinal traits in men, it cannot be questioned that less-marked traits in societies are determined by less-marked traits in men; and that there must everywhere be a consensus between the special structures and actions of the one and the special struc tures and actions of the other.