Social theory

Cornell University Library

HM 66.C7

Social theory.

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THE LIBRARY

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OF

INDUSTRIAL AND LABOR

RELATIONS

AT
CORNELL UNIVERSITY

Cornell University
Library

The original of tliis bool< is in
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There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.

http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924002668899

SOCIAL THEORY

THE LIBRARY OF SOCIAL STUDIES

Edited by G. D. H. COLE

SOCIAL THEORY

By G. D. H. Cole, Author of "Self- Government in Industry,"
"Labour in the Commonwealth," etc.

THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION

By J. L. and B. E. Hammond, Authors of "The Village Labourer,"
" The Town Labourer," etc.

THE INDUSTRIAL HISTORY OF MODERN BRITAIN
(1830-1919). By J. R. Taylor, Joint- Author of "The Industrial
Outlook," etc.

THE FALL OF FEUDALISM IN FRANCE

By Sydney Herbert, Author of "Modern Europe," etc.

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION IN POLITICAL THOUGHT

By M. B. Reckitt, Author of "The Meaning of National Guilds,"
etc.

THE BRITISH LABOUR MOVEMENT

By C. M. Lloyd, Author of "Trade Unionism," "The Reorganisa-
tion of Local Government," etc.

INDUSTRY IN THE MIDDLE AGES
By G. D. H. and M. I. Cole

SOCIAL THEORY

BY

G. D. H. COLE

FELLOW OF MAGDALEN COLLEGE, OXFORD

author of

"self-government in INDUSTI^Y"

"labour in the commonwealth" etc.

PROPERTY OF LIBRARY

NEW mK STATE SHimOl
INOUSTRiAL ACD LAEGR RELATIONS

CORNELL UNIVERSITY

METHUEN & CO. LTD.

36 ESSEX street W.C.

LONDON

First Published in igso

CONTENTS

CHAP. PAGE

I. The Forms of Social Theory . . i

II. Some Names and their Meaning . . 25

III. The Principle of Function . . -47

IV. The Forms and Motives of Association . 63
V. The State . . . . . .81

VI. Democracy and Representation . 103

VII. Government and Legislation . . -117

VIII. Coercion and Co-ordination . . .128

IX. The Economic Structure of Society . 144

X. Regionalism and Local Government . 158

XL Churches . . _^ . • .172

XII. Liberty . . ■ • .180

XIII. The Atrophy of Institutions . . .193

XIV. Conclusion . . • • • .201
Index . ■ • .215

SOCIAL THEORY

CHAPTER I
THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY.

MEN do not make communities — ^they are
bom and bred into them. Every individ-
ual at his birth is flung into a social
environment, and his life's work from infancy is to
make the best of that environment for himself and
for his fellows. As he grows to fuller consciousness,
his environment gradually expands. He becomes
aware of the family, contact with which furnishes
his first social experience. At the same time, he
becomes aware also of a larger world outside the
family, a world of wisdom, of things seen from
windows and on journe}^ from home, a world which
slowly assumes definite shapes and takes on human
characteristics of neighbourhood and similarity.
As he grows older, the fact of organisation in this
world becomes apparent, and school, church, club
and other social institutions claim him, and assume
a part in his fife. By the time he reaches manhood,
he has drimk in and accepted the fact of the world,
his environment, as a complex of individuals and
associations, of customs and institutions, of rights

A I

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

and duties, of pleasures, pains, desires, hopes and
fears, strivings and attempts to understand all
centring round this complex and aU raising the
more or less insistent question of his place in it, and
his relation to it.

Of course, this process is widely different in the
case of different individuals, types and classes.
Hitherto, men have usually been brought far sooner
and more completely into contact with an organised
social environment than women, whose experi-
ence has not been allowed to expand with the same
freedom. Again, the opportunities of the rich and
of the educated classes for contact with the world
without have been far fuller than those of the
workers or of the lower middle class. The workers,
however, through their Trade Unions, clubs and other
societies have shared with the upper classes what is
largely denied to the lower middle class — the
opportunity for free association with a communal
object, and the consequent appreciation of the social
structure of the world around them. The Trade
Union is the working-class equivalent for the upper-
class pubhc school and university, which are the
scenes not so much of education, as of the social
training of a ruUng caste.

The generaUty of men and women take their
experience of the social scene around them unphilo-
sophicaUy. They do not reflect upon it ; they
merely accept it. But that does not make it any
the less a real experience, or any the less a part of
their mental equipment. They are born into a
complex society, and by a natural process that

complex society becomes a part of their lives ^as

z

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

real a Welta'mchaMU'n^ as any Teutonic philosopher
ever imagined.

The task which I propose to attempt in this book
is that of setting down, as clearly as I can, the social
content of this Weltanschauung of the ordinary man,
not of course limiting myself to what he sees, but
endeavouring to put together the social contents of
various experiences, and to make of them, as far as
they form one, a coherent and consistent whole.
What is the content of our social experience— what
is the relation between the various fragmentary
experiences and contacts of and with individuals,
associations and institutions which we come upon
in our day-to-day life in Society ? What, in short,
is the structure of the half-organised and half-
conscious community of which we form a part ?

Perhaps that last question gives rather too large
and inclusive an idea of the purpose which I have in
mind. It is not all experience that I mean to deal
with, but only social experience. Social Theory is
not concerned directly with all the actions of in-
dividual men, but mainly with their actions taken
in concert through some temporary or permanent
organised group, and with the actions of such groups
as they affect and react upon the individual. The
unorganised, personal conduct of individual men
will be always present as the background of our
study, though it will only be treated incidentally in
relation to its social content.

Even with this limitation, the scope which I have
taken for this book wiU seem to many people jtar
too wide. Social Theory, especially under its name
of ' Political Theory,' has often been regarded as

3

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

having to do mainly with one particular association,
the State, and with its relation to the individual.
Recent theory, however, has been moving'^more
and more to the conclusion that this definition of
the scope of the subject is wrong, because it is
fundamentally untrue to the facts of social ex-
perience.

I do not mean, of course, to deny that it is possible
to write books about, and even to make a distinct
and separate study of, the nature of the association
called ' The State,' and its relation to the individual.
That is, of course, a perfectly legitimate and
necessary inquiry. But I do absolutely deny that
any study of the relations of State and individual
can furnish even the groimdwork for a general survey
of social experience, and that it, taken by itself, can
penetrate to the heart of the question of man's place
in Society. It is simply not true that the social
relations of which a man is most directly and con-
stantly aware are, under normal conditions, his
relations with the State ; and it is still less true that
these relations furnish the whole, or even the greater
part, of his social experience.

Society is a very complex thing. Apart from
personal and family relations, almost every indi-
vidual in it has, from childhood onwards, close con-
tacts with many diverse forms of social institution
and association. Not only is he a citizen or subject
of his State, and of various local governing author-
ities within it : he is also related to the social order
through ,many other voluntary or involuntary
associations and institutions. He is, maybe, a
worker in a factory, mine or oflBice, a member of a

4

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

church or other religious or irreligious body, a
Trade Unionist or member of a professional or
trading association, a Co-operator or Allotment
Holder or Building or Friendly Society member, he
has his club of the Pall Mall, political or workman's
variety, he is a sportsman associated with his
fellow-sportsman, a Socialist or a Primrose Leaguer,
he has hobbies which cause him to join an association
of persons with the same tastes, or views which
cause him to link up with others of the same opinion.
Moreover, as a husband and a house or share owner,
he is directly in contact with the social institutions
of marriage and property, while his whole life is a
complex in which social customs and traditions play
an immense part. None can escape from constant
contact with some of these various social relations,
and almost every one is conscious of a widely diver-
sified and ceaselessly varying social environment of
which he forms, for his fellows, a part. Custom is
perhaps strongest among women, and association
is certainly strongest among men ; but among women
also the growth of association is following hard upon
the awakening of a wider social consciousness.

This being the character of the social complex,
the question at once arises of the right way of
surveying it from the theoretic standpoint. The
tendency of political theorists has been to survey it
under the guidance of the principle of Power or
Force, which is also the principle of the Austinian
theory of law. Of all the forms of association and
institution which I have mentioned, only the State,
and, imder the State, in a small degree the local
authority, obviously possesses in our day coercive

5

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

power. The State, therefore, as the ' determinate
superior,' having in its hands not only the majesty
of law, but the ultimate weapon of physical com-
pulsion, has been singled out and set on a pedestal
apart from all other forms of association, and
treated as the social institution par excellence,
beside which all other associations are merely
corporate or quasi-corporate individuals, which the
State and the law can only recognise at all by pre-
tending that they are individuals, although it is
perfectly plain that they are not.

Following out this line of thought to its logical
conclusion, classical PoUtical Theory has treated the
State as the embodiment and representative of the
social consciousness, the State's actions as the
actions of men in Society, the relations of the State
and the individual as the chief, and almost the only,
subject-matter of Social Theory. Over against the
State and its actions and activities this form of
theory has set indiscriminately the whole complex
of individuals and other associations and institutions,
and has treated aU their manifestations as individual
actions without vital distinction or difference.

I believe that this false conception of the subject
arises mainly from the conception of human society
in terms of Force and Law. It begins at the wrong
end, with the coercion which is applied to men in
Society, and not with the motives which hold men
together in association. The other way of con-
ceiving human Society, first fully developed in
Rousseau's Social Contract, is in terms not of Force
or Law, but of Will.

As soon as we view the social scene in this light,
6

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

the whole outlook is at once different. Not only
the State, but all the other forms of association in
which men join or are joined together for the
execution of any social purpose, are seen as ex-
pressing and embod5dng in various manners and
degrees the wills of the individuals who compose
them. The distinction between Social Theory—
the theory of social conduct — and Ethics — ^the
theory of individual conduct — ^is at once seen to be
the distinction between simple individual action
and associative action, between the direct indi-
vidual action of a human being by the simple
translation of his will into deed, and the associative
action of a number of human beings, or of an
individual acting on behalf of a number as agent or
representative, through a society or association.
Of course, the act of an individual may be just as
' social ' in its content and purpose as the act of a
society or group. But that is not the point : the
vital point is that, viewed in terms of will, the actions
of the State appear as of the same nature with
the actions of any other association in which men
are joined together for a common purpose. The
respective spheres of ethical and social theory are
thus marked out with sufficient clearness for prac-
tical purposes, though a doubtful borderland remains
of tj^es of action which can be regarded as either
personal or associative, because the element of
association, though present in them, is present in so
rudimentary a form as not to override the purely
individual element. This point, however, does not
concern us here ; for it is enough for the present to
have made it clear that Social Theory is concerned

7

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

primarily, not with the State, but with the whole
problem of human association — ^that is, of associa-
tive will and action.

It is, of course, possible to reject will as the basis
of human institutions ; but the consequences of
such a rejection are so extraordinary that nearly
all political theorists have recoiled from their direct
acceptance. Even those who, Uke Hobbes, have
been most assiduous in founding their conception of
actual societies on the basis of Force and Law, have
sought to reinforce their position by finding an
original basis for social association in will. Hence
Hobbes' imaginary original social contract in which
men bound themselves together by Will into a
society, only to alienate for ever for themselves and
their posterity the wiU which alone could make
their society legitimate. As soon as a basis of right,
and not of mere fact, is sought for human associa-
tion, there is no escape from invoking the principle
of human will, except for those who maintain that
Kings are Kings for ever by Divine Right and
Appointment. And even this is only to appeal
from the Will of man to an omnipresent and omni- ,
potent Will of God.

Every approach to democracy makes the actual
and legitimate foundation of Society on the will of
its members more manifest. A theory based on
Force and Law may pass for long undetected in an
authoritarian Society; but it cannot survive the
emergence of democratic or even of aristocratic
consciousness. This is true, not only or mainly
because the wiU of the people or of a class begins to
exert its influence upon affairs of State ; but, still

8

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

more, because, without the sanction of law, other
forms of democratic or oligarchal association begin
to exercise a power which, within their sphere of
operation, threatens to challenge or control the
State and to usurp the functions which it has
arrogated to itself. Law in the strict sense, law
enforceable by courts and police, may remain in the
hands of the State ; but other bodies, such as a
baronial assembly, a Church or a Trade Union,
frame regulations arid secure their observance, even
without the aid of the black cap and the poUceman.
To the great scandal of authority in our own day,
even the policemen form a Trade Union of their
own, and aim at becoming, within a narrow sphere,
their own legislature, executive, and judiciary.

Such a social situation is fatal to Political Theory
of the old tj^e. While the political philosophers
are holding high argimient about the philosophical
theory of the State, and the relation to it of the
individual, the world around them has become
interested in a new set of problems, in the position
of voluntary and functional associations in Society,
in their relation to national States, and their position
as being often international associations, in the
multipUcity and possible conflict of loyalties and
obUgations involved for the individual in simul-
taneous membership of several such associations.
In short, while the philosophers are still arguing
about the State and the individual, the world of
creative thought has moved on to the discussion
of the functional organisation of Society, and
the new problems for the individual to which it
gives rise.

9

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

It is not in the least surprising that, under these
conditions, the political theory of the schools has
become sterile, and that the new developments have
arisen among those whose vital interest has lain
neither in philosophy nor in the State, but in the
sphere of functional association. Apart from
purely psychological developments, there are at
present only three live sources of social theorj' — ^the
Church, industry and history. Socially inarticu-
late in this country since the enfeebling conflicts of
the seventeenth century, the Chiurches are to-day
regaining their voice, if not their hold, upon the
people. They are beginning to realise that they, too,
are social institutions, and to reclaim their right to
spiritiial seM-govemment and spiritual freedom
from the State. Dr. J. N. Figgis's book. Churches
in the Modern State, has proved itself one of the
live forces in present-day social theory.

A force far more generally diffused, and far more
potent in its influence, is that which springs from in-
dustrial sources. Bolsheviks, Sjoidicalists, Marxian
IndustriaUsts and Communists not merely claim
for proletarian organisations independence of the
State ; they threaten to destroy it altogether. Right
or wrong, they are a force, and their doctrines
are a living international influence. At the same
time Guild Socialists, inspired also by industrial
and economic conditions, preach the doctrine of
democratic self-government in industrj', and the
transformation of the State by the influence of the
functional principle. Their doctrine is far wider
than industry, although it springs out of industrial
conditions. It amounts in the last analysis to a

lo

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

complete Social Theory— to the Social Theory which
I am putting forward in this book.

Thirdly, there is the source of history, which, as
our knowledge of the past grows, reminds us more
and more that the factotum State — ^the omnicom-
petent, omnivorous, omniscient, omnipresent Sove-
reign State — in so far as it exists at all outside the
brain of megalomaniacs, is a thing of yesterday, and
that functional association, which is now growing
painfully to a fuller stature, is not a young upstart
of our days, but has a pedigree to the fuU as long and
as honourable as that of the State itself — ^and indeed
longer and more honourable. Not only the study
of mediaeval history, but still more the growing
knowledge of early human institutions, serves to
emphasise the common character of the various
forms of human association, the essential reality,
based on the common will of men, of associations
to which Roman law was prepared to concede only
the derivative character of persona ficta. We owe
much to Gierke and Maitland in the study of law ;
for they have enabled us to view it, not as the hand-
maid of the Sovereign State, but in its relation to
human association as a whole.

Oxa study of Social Theory will begin, then, not
with the State, or with any other particular form of
association, but with association as a whole, and
the way in which men act through associations in
supplement and complement to their actions as
isolated or private individuals.

Here, however, we are confronted with an im-
mediate difficulty. Is the family to be treated as
an association, and therefore as part of the social

II

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

fabric of Society as distinguished from the in-
dividuals composing it? Does the study of the
family form a part of the study of individual
conduct or of social conduct ? These are not easy
questions to answer.

I do not propose to go deeply into the historical
character of the family, or to touch at all upon the
relations, actual or supposed, between the family
and the tribe. I am treating my subject, not
historically, but purely in relation to the present and
the future. I shall therefore say only that, in
modern times, the family has changed not only its
nature and function, but also its composition, and
that in doing so it has become far less a social and
far more a purely personal unit. The family to-day
only functions as a unit in relation to the personsil
concerns of a relatively very small group, usually
those who are included in a single household or
brick-box. The family, in the sense of the clan,
including a large group of blood kindred, no
longer survives in Western Countries as a social
unit. It was, in primitive civilisation, distinctly
and markedly a social rather than a personal unit ;
but to-day the social functions of the clan have
passed into other hands, and the family remains
as a private group largely bereft of social functions
except in the getting and upbringing of children.
No small exception, truly ! But it is an exception
largely irrelevant to our present purposes. For,
although in a sense the family is the necessary basis
of Society, it remains itself, under modern condi-
tions, largely external to the social fabric, the scene
of purely personal contacts and least capable of

12

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

organisation where it is most performing a social
function. Its very character is to be unorganisable,
incapable of organised'co-ordination with the world
of associations which surrounds it ; in short, personal
rather than collective, individual rather than asso-
ciative in its operation. It is itself perhaps the
strongest of all human groups, as it is certainly the
most permanent ; but, as a human group, it is essen-
tially individual, and not the least of its strength
Ues in the fact that it holds aloof from other groups
and remains, to a great extent, isolated in a world
of developing interrelation. Its members exercise
their civic, industrial and political functions more
and more, not through it, but as individuals, and,
by the removal of other past functions, the dis-
appearance of domestic industry for instance, it is
more and more set free to become the sphere of
purely personal affections and contacts.

In the past, some social theorists have based their
whole theory upon the analogy of the family, and
have striven to explain all wider phenomena of
association and community in its light.^ Any such
explanation seems to-day so obviously misleading
that it need not detain us at all. It is, however,
important to point out that this is by no means the
only cure in which the use of a false analogy has
caused social theories to suffer shipwreck. Again
and again, social theorists, instead of finding and
steadily emplojdng a method and a terminology
proper to their subject, have attempted to express
the facts and values of Society in terms of some
other theory or science. On the analogy of the

^ e.g. Filmer's Patriarcha.
13

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

phjreical sciences they have striven to analyse and
explain Society as mechanism, on the analogy of
biology they have insisted on regarding it as an
organism, on the analogy of mental science or
philosophy they have persisted in treating it as a
person, sometimes on the reUgious analogy they
have come near to confusing it with a God.

These various analogies have very different degrees
of value and disvalue. The mechanical analogy
and the organic analogy have been alike definitely
harmful, and have led theory seriously astray ; for
they both invoke a material analogy in what is
essentially a. mental or spiritual study. The anal-
ogies drawn from psychology and mental philosophy
are far less harmful, and may be even extremely
suggestive, if they are not pushed too far ; for
though neither Society nor the various associations
which it includes are ' persons,' they approach far
more nearly to being persons than to being either
mechanical or organic.

There are, however, obvious and sufficient reasons
why no analogy can carry the study of human
Society very far forward. To every distinct human
study corresponds its own method and its own
terminology, and analogy pushed beyond very
restricted limits necessarily engenders confusion.
Our object is not to know what Society is like, but
to know what and how it is ; and any reference of it
to some other body of knowledge defeats the object
in view.

It is true that the method of social theory bears
a close resemblance to the method of ethics and
psychology. The two are, indeed, in a very real

14

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

sense, complementary, and only in both groups of
knowledge together can we find a full knowledge of
community. They must pursue to a great extent the
same method, in order to arrive at conclusions which
are capable of being collated and correlated. Thus
social theory has its social psychology, its descriptive
study of the action of men in association, and this is
related to social philosophy to some extent, though
not wholly in the same way as individual psycho-
logy is related to moral philosophy.^ How far
the parallel holds depends largely upon the sphere
assigned to social psychology, which is a young
science not yet at all sure of its scope or method.

The fact, however, that social and moral theory
are complementary, and that, as the final object of
both is the human mind in action, they must pursue
largely and essentially the same method, is only
one reason the more for keeping their terminologies
as clearly distinct as possible. For their spheres of
operation are distinct, though closely related, and
the closeness of their relationship only makes any
confusion of terminology the more likely to result
in confusion of thought. Thus, if we say that an
association is a ' person,' we are merely obscuring
a difference — between persons and associations, or
rather between personal and associative action, upon
which the separate existence of moral and social
theory essentially depends. Such a conception may
be useful to lawyers whose object is to be able to
group persons and associations together for like
treatment civiUy under the law ; but it is clearly
inadmissible in social theory.

* To this point I must return later. See p. i8.
15

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

We must, then, avoid analogies, or at the least
avoid allowing our terminology to be influenced at
all by analogies, however valuable. We must adopt
our own temainology, and make it, as far as possible,
clearly distinct from the terminology of any other
study.

So far, I am fully aware, the ground has not been
cleared for the adoption of an easily intelligible and
consistent terminology for social theory. This is in
part, but only in part, the fault of social theorists,
who have not succeeded in defining with sufficient
exactitude the scope and the boundaries of their
inquiry. It must, however, be recognised that the
task is one of peculiar difficulty, both because the
words of social theory are words of common use and
wont, and therefore pecuUarly liable to shift their
meaning as conditions change, and still more because
conditions do change, and the associations and in-
stitutions with which social theory has to deal change
with them, develop new functions, and discard old
ones, and even alter their fimdamental character
and internal structure. The ' States ' of to-day
differ widely among themselves, and we should be
hard put to it to find a definition which woidd em-
brace them aU. But the ' States ' of different
ages differ far more widely, until such common
nature as exists among them is almost imdiscern-
ible in the mass of transient characteristics which
encompass them at every time.

If, then, this book seems to be concerned largely
with questions of terminology, that is not my fault.
It is hardly possible to fall into any discussion upon
an important point of social theory without finding

i6

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

sooner or later the discussion tending to resolve itself
into a question of words — not because only words
are at issue, but because it is impossible to get down
to the real issues until verbal ambiguities have been
removed. We shall be unable to proceed with any
analjreis of social phenomena, and still more with any
explanation of them, until we have determined, as
far as possible, to use each important name only in
a single and definite sense, and until we have agreed
what that definite sense is to be. That is why my
second chapter deals entirely with questions of
terminology.

Before, however, we begin the discussion of these
vexed questions, it will be well to make as plain as
possible the object which this book has in view.
The subject-matter of social theory is the action of
men in association. That is clear enough. But
manifestly this subject-matter can be studied from
several different points of view. Apart from purely
historical studies, there are at least three main
ways — ^besides many subsidiary ways—of approach-
ing it, and, while each of the resulting bodies of
knowledge is useful to each of the others, and each
throws a necessary light upon each, their respective
interests are clearly distinct and the generalisations
or results with which they are concerned are essen-
tially different. We must see clearly what is the
content of these various studies, if we are to recognise
and appreciate the scope and the Umitations of
that study with which alone we are here directly
concerned.

The first way of approach to social theory lies
through the study and comparison of actual social
B 17

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

institutions. Here it often approaches nearly to
history ; for the direct material with which it works
is to be found in history. The anthropologist or
sociologist, studjdng the institutions of primitive
mankind, the constitutional historian, studjdng the
evolution of the State and of the poUtical structure
of Society, the jurist, studjdng the development of
law, the ecclesiastical historian, studs^ng the growth
and organisation of churches — ^all these amass
materials from which generalisations can be drawn,
and on which more or less scientific principles of
human organisation can be based. The student of
representative institutions — a Montesquieu or an
Ostrogorski — works upon these materials and arrives
at results which possess an objective value. A
■ positive science ' of institutions is the object of
such forms of inquiry.

The second way of approach lies through the
study, not of institutions in themselves, but of the
motives and impulses by which men are moved in
their social actions thrpugh institutions and associa-
tions. At one extreme, this type of theory finds its
place in the study of ' mob ' or ' crowd ' psycho-
logy, the impulses and ways of action of a barely
organised human group. At the other extreme, it
studies, from the same standpoint, the psychological
aspects of the most compUcated and highly deve-
loped form of social association, and endeavours, like
the psychology of individual conduct, to formulate
the general rules which guide the actions of men in
association, studying also the diseases of association
as individual psychology studies the diseases of
personality. Mr. Robert Michels's book on Demo-

i8

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

cracy and the Organisation of Political Parties is
perhaps the best modern example of this form of
study in its developed form ; but the nucleus of it
is to be found in that part of Rousseau's Social
Contract which deals with the actions of ' govern-
ment,' and the tendency of all governments to
degenerate.^

There is, of course, much ' Social Psychology '
which takes for itself a far more roving commission
than this. Like psychology as a whole. Social
Psychology has often tended, in the hands of its
professors, to rely too much on data afforded by the
primitive types, and to resolve itself largely into an
analysis of instincts. Mr. Graham Wallas's Human
Nature in Politics furnished a sort of preface to a
more developed sort of Social Psychology, which its
author proceeded to follow up, somewhat dis-
appointingly, in The Great Society. In America,
however, the method of Mr. Wallas is finding
followers in plenty, and big developments of this
foi^n of. social study may be expected from these
sources.

The third way of approach to social theory is that
which Rousseau explicitly set out to attempt in
the first two books of his Social Contract. It is no
less than the discovery of imiversal principles of
social association — of the values, rather than of the
facts — of sociality. He contrasted his own method
sharply with that of Montesquieu in the following
passage : —

" Montesquieu did not intend to treat of the

principles of poUtical right ; he was content to

> See Social Contract, bk. iii., especially chap. x.
19

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

treat of the positive law of established govern-
ments ; and no two studies could be more different
than these." ^

Thus, in Rousseau's view, the way of approach
which he sought to adopt in discovering the philo-
sophic principles of human association was a way
which concerned itself not with fact, but with right.
It was, in the language of the schools, a normative,
and not a positive study. It was thus complemen-
tary and parallel to ethical philosophy as the study
of individual conduct from the moral standpoint,
just as social psychology, the study of associative
conduct from the descriptive, analytical and com-
parative point of view, corresponds to individual
psychology, as the study of individual conduct from
the same point of view. Here, however, the parallel
brfeaks down because of the difference of subject-
matter. In the case of social institutions, there is
a third way of study — the first of those mentioned
above — which examines and compares actual in-
stitutions and endeavours to reach practical generaU-
sations on this basis. In the case of individual
conduct, there is no corresponding third way, unless
we consent to regard the study of the human body —
physiological psychology, physiology proper, and
all th&other sciences which have to do with the body
— ^as in some sense parallel. But to do this is to
fall into one of those dangerous analogies against
which we have already uttered a warning. Actual
institutions may be Ukened, in a certain sense, to
the ' body ' of the community, as they may be

1 Emile, bk. v. The word droit in the French is used in the
sense both of ' right ' (droit politique) and ' law ' {droit positif).

20

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

regarded as, in a certain sense, its mechanism. But
strictly speaking, the community has no body and,
as Herbert Spencer said, no ' common sensorium.'
Institutions, even if we abstract from the motives
which are present in their action, are neither
organism nor mechanism. We may, if we will,
speak of the " organs of the body social," or of the
" machinery of Society," but we must beware of
regarding such phrases as more than metaphors, or
of basing any conclusions at all upon them.

My object in this book is primarily philosophical.
I am concerned principally with social theory as the
social complement of ethics, with ' ought ' rather
than with ' is,' with questions of right rather than
of fact. But this does not mean that it is desirable
or possible to extrude from consideration the other
forms of social study which have been mentioned.
Social psychology of the type described above offers,
in particular, indispensable material for any study
of social conduct. The difference is that, in relation
to the particular inquiry upon which we are setting
out, it forms part, not of the ultimate interest or
object before us, but of the material on which we
have to work. We must know how associations and
institutions actually work, what human motives and
distortions of human motive are actually present in
them, before we can form any philosophical concep-
tion of the principles on which they rest. We there-
fore cannot quite say, like Rousseau, " Away with
all the facts ! " although in our conclusions the facts
drop away and only questions of right remain.

There is a further danger, not yet directly men-
tioned, against which we must be, throughout the

21

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

study, always on our guard. It is the more neces-
sary to guard against it, because the essential diffi-
culties of terminology are always drawing us into
it, whether we wiU or not. We must avoid thinking
of either the State or the commtmity as ends in
themselves, as self-subsistent and individual realities
similar to, or greater than, the persons who are
members of them. We must never say that the
State desires this, or the commimity wills that, or
the Church is aiming at so and so, without realising
clearly that the only wUls that reaUy exist are the
wills of the individual human beings who have
become members of these bodies. There is no
such thing, strictly speaking, as the ' will ' of an
association or institution ; there are only the
co-operating wiUs of its members.

The chief difficulty here arises from two soiurces.
First, from the fact that the actions of an association
seldom if ever reflect the wiUs of aU its members —
there is practically always a dissentient minority,
and very often an apathetic majority. Secondly,
from the fact that an association often seems to
acquire a sort of momentum which impels it into
action without the force of any individual wiU
behind it, or at least causes big actions to be taken
on a very small and weak basis of will. Both these
facts easily lead us to ascribe a will to the institution
itself — a. will in some sense transcending the wills of
its members. Burke's French Revolution arrives at
this position by the second route ; Bosanquet's
Philosophical Theory of the State and much other
more or less Hegelian writing by the first. Rous-
seau sometimes seems to fall into the same

22

THE FORMS OF SOCIAL THEORY

error, though his way of arriving at it is more
obscure.

This is a question which will have to be discussed
much more fully later in this book. Here it need
only be said that, even if the belief underlying the
view of State or community or association as an
' end in itself ' were true, it would be none the less
important to keep otu" ways of speaking about such
* ends in themselves ' clearly distinct from our ways
of speaking about individual human beings. Other-
wise, only serious confusion can result. Thus, if,
like Rousseau, we use the term ' General Will ' to
mean sometimes a will generally diffused among the
citizens, and at other times to mean a will whose
object is the general good of the citizens, whether
it is present in the mind of one or some or all of them,
the way is already paved to an illusory reconcilia-
tion of these two different meanings of terming this
" General Will," which begins in either case as some-
body's (or everybody's) will, into a will which is
neither somebody's nor everybody's, but the will of
the State or the community itself.

I have spoken so much of terminological difficulties
and confusions that I fear the reader is already
looking forward to the next chapter, which deals
entirely with the use of terms, with considerable
misgivings. But I hope I have said enough to make
it plain that there is no chance of carrying this
inquiry satisfactorily through to the end unless we
begin by getting as clear as we can the sense in
which the names on which it hinges are to be used.
We cannot hope to get them quite clear, even to our
own minds ; and still less can we hope to find any

23

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

way of reconciling or making easily comparable the
varying terminologies of different writers on our
subject. But we must do the best we can, and crave
indulgence if our definitions are not fully satis-
factory.

To that task of clearing the ground for our main
inquiry we must now turn.

24

CHAPTER II
SOME NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

EVERY developed Community may be re-
garded as giving rise to an organised Society,
within which there exists a vast complex of
social customs, institutions and associations, through
which the members or citizens express themselves
and secure in part the fulfilment of the various
purposes which some or all of them have in common.
There are in this sentence at least seven words
upon the clear definition of which success in our
subsequent inquiry largely depends.

Community is the broadest and most inclusive of
the words which we have to define. By a ' Com-
munity ' I mean a complex of social life, a complex
including a number of human beings living together
under conditions of social relationship, bound to-
gether by a common, however constantly changing,
stock of conventions, customs and traditions, and
conscious to some extent of common social objects
and interests. It wiU be seen at once that this is a
very wide and elastic form of definition, under which
a wide variety of social groups might be included.
It is, indeed, of the essence of community that its
definition should be thus elastic ; for ' community '

25

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

is essentially a subjective term, and the reality of it
consists in the consciousness of it among its members.
Thus a family is, or may be, a community, and any
group which is, in a certain degree, self-contained
and self-subsistent, is or may be a community. A
mediaeval University, a monastic brotherhood, a
co-operative colony — ^these and many more may
possess those elements of social comprehensiveness
which give a right to the title of community.

But, if the word is wide and inclusive enough in
one aspect, it is essentially Umiting in another. In
order to be a community, a group must exist for the
good life and not merely for the furtherance of some
specific and partial purpose. Thus, a cricket club,
or a Trade Union, or a poUtical party is not a com-
munity, because it is not a self-contained group of
complete human beings, but an association formed
for the furtherance of a particular interest common
to a number of persons who have other interests
outside it. A community is thus essentially a social
unit or group to which human beings belong, as
distinguished from an association with which they
are only connected.

Yet, despite this wholeness and universality
which are of the nature of commtmity, it is not the
case that a man can belong to one community only.
A community is an inclusive circle of social life;
but round many narrow circles of family may be
drawn the wider circle of the city, and round many
circles of city the yet wider circle of the Province or
the Nation, while round all the circles of Nation
is drawn the yet wider and more cosmopolitan circle
of World civilisation itself. No one of these wider

26

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

circles necessarily absprbs the narrower circles
within it : they may maintain themselves as real
and inclusive centres of social life within the wider
communities beyond them. A man is not less a
member of his family or a citizen of his city for being
an Englishman or a cosmopolitan. Membership of
two communities may lead, for. the individual, to a
real conflict of loyalties ; but the reality of the
conflict only serves to measure the reality of the
communal obligation involved.

Our definition does not, of course, enable us to
say exactly and in every instance what is a com-
munity and what is not. Being a community is a
matter of degree, and all communities^ being actual,
are also necessarily imperfect and incomplete.
There may often arise, not merely a dispute, but an
actual doubt in the minds of the persons concerned
to what community they belong, as for instance in
a border country which hardly knows with which of
the peoples it lies between its community of tradi-
tion, interest and feeling is the stronger. Again, a
province or a town may be merely an administrative
area, with no common life or feeling of its own, or it
may be a real and inclusive centre of social life.
Moreover, it may pass by insensible stages from the
one condition to the other, as when a depopulated
strip of countryside becomes first a formless urban
district and then gradually assumes the form and
feeling of a town or city, changes and developments
in administrative organisation usually, but not
necessarily, accompanying the change in feeling.
There are groups which obviously deserve the name
of communities, and groups which obviously do not

2^

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

deserve it ; but there are also countless groups of
which it is difficult to say, at any particular moment,
whether they deserve the name or not.

It is plain, then, that our thing, ' a community,'
does not necessarily involve any particular form of
social organisation, or indeed any social organisation
at aU. It is not an institution or a formal association,
but a centre of feeling, a group felt by its members
I to be a real and operative unity. In any community
larger than the family, however, this feeling of unity,
with its accompanying need for common action,
almost necessarily involves conscious and formal
organisation. The feeling of unity makes it easy
for the members of a community to associate them-
selves together for the various purposes which they
have in common, and, where the community is free
from external hindrances, such association surely
arises and is devoted to the execution of these
common purposes. Where a community is not free,
and an external power hinders or attempts to prevent
organisation, association stiU asserts itself, but in-
stead of directing itself to the fulfilment of the
various social needs of the group, almost every
association is diverted to subserve the task of eman-
cipating the commimity from external hindrances.
This, for instance, is the position in Ireland at the
present time.

We are concerned in this study with community
as a whole, and with communities of every kind ;
but our chief interest is necessarily with those larger
and more complex communities which have the
largest social content and the most diversified social
organisation. It is, indeed, in relation to these that

28

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

the principal difl&culties arise. The simple fact of
community is easy enough to appreciate ; but in a
large and highly developed social group, internal
organisation, and cross-currents of organisation
which, assignable to wider communities, overleap
the frontiers of the smaller groups and communities
within them, often loom so large that the fact of
community itself tends to disappear from sight.
The desire to counter this tendency is, as we shall
see later, one of the principal causes of the facile,
but fatal, identification of community with ' State '
which is so often made by social theorists.

" Every develpped community," we began by
declaring, " may be regarded as giving rise to an
organised Society." In the small community of the
family this distinction does not to-day, or usually,
arise. ^ But for larger communities the distinction
is of vital importance. In every such community
there is a part of the common life which is definitely
and formally organised, regulated by laws and
directed by associations formed for social purposes.
I mean to use the term Society to denote the complex
of organised associations and institutions within the
community.

I am conscious in this use of giving to the word
' Society ' a more definite meaning than those with
which it is customarily employed. Indeed, the
meaning here assigned to it is to a certain extent
artificial, but by no means entirely so. We do in

' It does arise, wherever, as in tribal communities, the family-
becomes a centre of organised law-giving or justice, or directs
the economic life of its members on a wide enough basis to re-
quire formal organisation.

29

AN INTRODUCTION TO -SOCIAL THEORY

fact constantly speak of Society when we wish to
denote neither the whole complex of community,
nor any particular association or institution, but
the sum total of organised social structure whichis
the resiiltant of the various associations and insti-
tutions within a coimnunity. A word is necessary
for our purposes to express our sense of that part of
the common life which is organised, and the word
' Society ' seems the best fitted for this purpose.

' Society,' then, in the sense in which the word
is used in this book, is not a complete circle of social
Ufe, or a social group of human beings, but a result-
ant of the interaction and complementary character
of the various functional associations and institu-
tions. Its concern is solely with the organised co-
operation of human beings, and its development
consists not directly in the feeling of community
among individuals, but in the better coherence
and more harmonious relationship of the various
functional bodies within the community.

We have seen that a developed community, larger
than the family, can hardly exist without institutions
and associations ; that is, without Society. Society,
on the other hand, may exist, if imperfectly, yet in a
developed form, without real community, or with
only a very slender basis of community. The union
of Ireland and Great Britain under a single Parlia-
ment, and with a large system of associations and
institutions extending to both, is an instance of a
Society with but the shadow of a basis of community.
In such a case, as we shall see, the more artificial
an association or institution is, or the greater the
element of coercion it includes, the more it is inclined

30

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

to persist, whereas the more voluntary and spon-
taneous forms of organisation find it hard to Hve
under such conditions. The growth of a purely
Irish Labour Movement, with a tendency to break
away from the British Movement, is an example of
this difficulty.

Society, as a complex of organisations, cannot
stand for, or express, aU human life within a com-
munity, or the whole life of any single human being.
Indeed, it is probably true that what is best and most
human in men and women escapes almost entirely
from the net of Society, because it is incapable of
being organised. Society is concerned mainly with
rights and duties, with deliberate purposes and in-
terests. While the community is essentially a
centre of feeUng, Society is a centre, or rather a
group of centres, of deliberation and planning,
concerned far more with means than with ends. It
is, of course, t^ue that an association or an institution
can arouse in us and make us attach to it sentiments
of loyalty as well as calculated adherences ; but at
least the better part of our feelings of love and de-
votion are put forth in purely personal relationships,
or in the narrow but intense community of the
family. It is essential that associations and insti-
tutions, and even that Society itself, should be able
to appeal to our sentiments of loyalty and devotion,
but it would be wrong to desire that these sentiments
shotild be absorbed in them. As long as human life
remains, most of the best things in it will remain out-
side the bounds and scope of organisation, and it wiU
be the chief function of Society so to organise these
parts of human life which respond to organisation

31

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

as to afford the fullest opportunity for the develop-
ment of those human experiences and relation-
ships to which organisation is the cold touch of
death.

Society, like community, is a matter of degree.
It depends not only on the volume and extent of
associative and institutional Ufe in^-the community,
but still more on the coherence and co-operative
working of the various associations and institutions.
Where associative and institutional life is vigorous,
but there exist distinct castes and classes, each
with its own network of organisations, not co-oper-»
ating but conflicting and -hostile, then Society exists
indeed, but only in a very low degree. The highest
development of Society consists not only in the
general diffusion of associations and institutions over
every organisable tract of social Ufe, but also in the
harmonious co-operation of all the various bodies,
each fulfilling its proper function within Society, in
harmony and agreement with the others. We shall
be able to appreciate the full implications of this
harmony better at a later stage, when we have ex-
amined more closely the nature of associations and
institutions, and when we have shown in its true
hght the principle of ' function ' as their sustaining
principle.

We have so far spoken of associations and insti-
tutions uncritically, without any attempt to examine
their nature, or to define the sense in which the terms
are used. To do this is our next task. We have
seen that every developed community includes a
network of associations and institutions of the most
various kinds, and we have now to explain their

32

NAMES AND THEm MEANINGS

character as far as we can. This is the central
difficulty of our subject, and, if this is surmounted,
we may fairly hope that much of the rest will be
comparatively plain sailing.

Men living together in community are conscious
of numerous wants, both material and spiritual.
In order to satisfy these wants, they must take
action, and accordingly they translate their con-
sciousness of wants into will. These wants are of
the most diverse character, and require the most
diverse means for their satisfaction. In two respects
above all, they differ fundamentally one from
another, and their differences in these respects
present the best starting-point for our examination.

Some wants are of a simple character and only
require a simple translation into will and action for
their fulfilment, or for the demonstration that they
cannot be fulfilled. Such wants, being essentially
simple and single, do not give rise to any form of
organisation. But very many wants are complex,
and require for their fulfUment not a single act of
will or action, but a whole course of action sustained
by a continuing purpose. It is in such cases, where
the will must be maintained over a whole course of
action, that the need for organisation may arise.

The presence of deliberate purpose, however, does
not necessarily lead to social organisation. The
individual has often to present to himself a course
of action, and to sustain by a continuing act of will
a whole course of action. In such a case he may be
said to ' organise ' his own mind, but organisation
remains purely personal and within his mind. The
position is different when he finds that the purpose
c 33

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

before him can only, or can better, be furthered by
his acting in common with other individuals and
undertaking in common with them a course of action
which, he hopes, will lead to the satisfaction of the
want of which he is conscious in himself. The
mere realisation of the need for co-operative action
does not, of course, call the co-operation into being,
but it is the basis on which co-operation can be
built. This consciousness of a want requiring co-
operative action for its satisfaction is the basis of
association.

The wants which may lead to association are them-
selves of the most diverse kind, and can be classified
in the most varied ways. The classification that is
necessary for our present purpose is, however, clear
enough. It is not the ' material,' but the ' social '
content of the want with which we are here con-
cerned. In this aspect, the want may be either
' several ' or ' associative.' It is, of course, in
either case a want of an individual, because only
individuals can want anything ; but its nature may
be such that each individual can enjoy the satis-
faction of it by himself, even if imperfectly, whether
the other individual secures a Uke satisfaction or not
(these are the wants which I have here called
' several '), or it may be such that it can be enjoyed
only by the co-operating group as a whole, and not
by any individual except in conjunction with other
individuals. Of coiirse, if a want is complex in
character, and is rather a circle of wants than a
single want, it may partake of both natures, and be
at once several and associative.

Both several and associative wants are fertile of
34

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

associations ; but the permanence and social value
of the associations which they create differ con-
siderably. A mere similarity or coincidence of
object, while it may lead for a time to very close
co-operation in pursuit of that object, does not
necessarily imply any similarity or coincidence of
motive, and still less any real sense of conamunity
among those who unite to pursue it. In the absence
of profound dissimilarity of motive, it may easily
engender a sense of community, and in doing so,
may perhaps convert a several into an associative
want. Thus, a group of farmers may associate
purely because each sees in association a prospect of
strengthening his economic position ; but, having
acted together, the group may realise the benefits
of associative action, and become inspired with the
co-operative principle. Irish agriculture, under the
guidance of A. E. and the Irish Homestead, has
shown a marked tendency to pass from severalty
of wants to associative wants.

Wants which are in their nature associative
commonly imply a close, constant and continuing
co-operation among the persons concerned, both
until the object of the association has been secured,
and thereafter for its exercise and maintenance.
Those who pursue them therefore become far more
easily imbued with the spirit of community, and the
associations which are created for their fulfilment
form a far more vital part of the structure of Society.
Almost all the great and important associations
which exercise a vital influence on affairs at the
present time do so for one of two reasons. Either
they exist, or are coming to exist, primarily for

35

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the fulfilment of associative wants, or they exercise
influence, despite the severalty of the wants with
which they are concerned, by reason of some ex-
traneous pull, such as the possession by their
members of vast wealth. In so far as associations
are democratic, they can hardly exercise abiding
influence unless their purposes are to a considerable
extent associative.

It is perhaps necessary to illustrate the somewhat
bare description given above by a few actual ex-
amples. A good instance of pure severalty of aim
is to be found in any association which exists simply
and solely to represent consumers. A Railway
Season-Ticket Holders' Association, for instance,
represents persons of the most diverse types, each
of whom, broadly speaking, is solely concerned to get
railway faciUties for himself as cheaply as possible.
A commercial or industrial company is another
example. In a meeting of shareholders, broadly
speaking, each individual is only concerned with the
amount of dividend he wiU secure, and with the
expectation of future dividends presented to him
by the general position of the company. I do not
mean, of course, that any individixal acts in such an
association purely as season-ticket holder or share-
holder, or that his communal instincts and ideas
find absolutely no play. That is not the case. But
I do mean that the bond of the association itself is
purely several, and that the fact of association
carries with it no impUcatif}n that the individuals
associated have a common view as to the social
position of season tickets or dividends in the com-
munity, or a common care for the satisfaction of

36

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

each other's needs. Only if there is in the asso-
ciation some other bond besides that of pure severalty
will *he spirit of community be evoked, and the
association take on a communal aspect.

This is not to say that associations based on pure
severalty may not be useful parts of Society. But,
as long as their basis remains purely several, they
lack the necessary elements of community which
will enable them to Unk up easily and enter into
complementary relationship with the rest of Society.
They have their part to play ; but it is an isolated
and secondary part in the social fabric. How they
act to-day we shall see more clearly when we come
to consider social theory in its economic aspects.
It is indeed in the economic sphere that such asso-
ciations mainly, though not exclusively, appear on
a large scale. In almost aU other spheres, although
as^ciations based on severalty exist, they attain to
importance only when their character of severalty
is crossed by an associative want.

This very rough and preliminary analysis is
sufficient to enable us to proceed to the task of de-
finition. By an ' association ' I mean any group
of persons pursuing a common purpose or system or
aggregation of purposes by a course of co-operative
action extending beyond a single act, and, for this
purpose, agreeing together upon certain methods of
procedure, and laying down, in however rudimentary
a form, rules for common action. At least two
things are fundamentally necessary to any asso-
ciation — a common purpose or purposes and, to a
certain extent, rules of common action.

The primary condition of all association is a

37

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

common purpose ; for the object of all associations
being the attainment of some end, there can be
no association unless the attainment of that end is
the purpose of the members. The ' end,' ' object,'
or ' interest,' or as I prefer to call it, the ' purpose,'
is the raison d'itre of every association. But, while
this is a fundamental point, it is important that it
should not be pushed too far. The presence of a
common purpose does not imply that it must be
fuUy and consciously apprehended by all or, even
in the case of already established associations, a
majority of the members. Thus, an association
may be constituted by its original founders with a
definite purpose ; but, in course of time, the con-
sciousness of this purpose may become blurred, and
the association may survive almost purposelessly,
men joining it rather because membership has
become customary than for the attainment, of
any end. Some Churches are instances of such
atrophied forms of association.

Secondly, it must be borne in nund that very
many associations have, not a single, clearly de-
finable purpose, but a number of purposes more or
less intimately related one to another. In these
cases, while, except in the circumstances contem-
plated above, each member is as a rule conscious of
at least one of the purposes of the association, it
does not follow that each member is conscious of,
or shares in the desire^^to forward, each of the
purposes in view. This may occur, either because
a member does not fully appreciate the interrelation
of the various purposes, and therefore fails to
appreciate the significance of some of them, or because

38

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

he does really differ from his fellows as to some of
the purposes contemplated by the association, while
agreeing with him about the rest, and feeUng the
association to be worth while for their sake alone.
For example, when a Trade Union or an employers'
association combines political and industrial
activities, there will be some who, agreeing with the
principal objects of the association and therefore
desiring to remain members, will dissent from some
of its purposes and methods. The Osborne Judg-
ment controversy some years ago, and the recent
controversy about the use of 'direct action' for
political purposes, alike served to force this issue to
the front in the case of Trade Unions. It is perhaps
unfortunate that it has not been similarly forced to
the front in the case of employers' associations.

Thirdly, we must remember that associations are
sustained by human beings, and are therefore capable
of constant development. Changing circumstances,
or a changing appreciation of the same circumstances,
may impel the members of an association to widen
or to narrow its objects, or to vary them from time
to time. All associations possess a considerable
elasticity in this respect, the degree of their elasticity
varying largely with the amount of coherence ihey
possess — ^which in tinm depends mainly upon the
intensity of the communal feeling which inspires
them. But there is for every association a limit
of elasticity, and, strained beyond this point by the
inclusion of new purposes, the association will break,
and a new one have to be created to fulfil the new
pmrposes. The atrophy of the original purposes
causes associations to decay. They may renew

39

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

themselves by assuming new purposes ; but, if the
change is too big or too violent, they break. Decay
or breakage is the fate of every association in the
end ; and as, from one cause or the other, associa-
tions disappear, men create new ones to take their
place.

So much for the common purposes which are the
moving and sustaining principle of all associations.
But, as we saw, there is a secondary characteristic
which is essential. Every association must, in some
degree, prescribe common rules of action for its
members. These rules may be very few and very
rudimentary, and they conMnonly deal with the
conduct of the members only in relation to the
purposes of the association, though they often
include written or unwritten moral rules of conduct
designed to preserve the reputation of the association,
and to act as a sort of elementary guarantee of
personal honour. These rules generally include both
general rules designed to cover particular cases as
they arise, and particular directions issued, by the
governing body of the association for guidance in
particular cases directly. With this aspect of the
question we shall have to deal more fully when
we 'Consider, in a later chapter, the problems of
democracy and representative government.

Our definition of the word ' association ' is clearly
very wide indeed. It excludes momentary groups
formed, without definite organisation, to carry out
some single immediate object ; but it includes all
organised groups possessed of a purpose entailing
a course of action. It draws no distinction between
groups whose purpose is in some sense political or

40

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

social or communal, and groups whose purpose is
purely sociable or recreational. It covers a football
club or a dining club fuUy as much as a Church, a
Trade Union or a political party.

Of course, it makes a great difference to the im-
portance of an association, not only how far it is
representative of those concerned in its purpose, but
also how important its purpose is. But it is im-
possible to draw a theoretical line of distinction
between associations which are ' social ' and asso-
ciations which are only sociable. For some practical
purposes, as for representation upon public bodies,
it is no doubt essential to draw such a distinction ;
but it is necessary to recognise that, however drawn,
it cannot be more than empirical. All associations
are, in their various manners and degrees, parts of
Society.

We can now turn to the word which, in the early
part of this chapter, was so often used in close con-
junction with the word ' association.' What is an
instituiion, and in what sense is the word used in
this book ? I find the thing for which the word
stands difiicult to define at all, and impossible to
define in any but a largely negative manner. It is
not, though it may manifest itself in or throughj a
group or association, nor has it, strictly speaking,
any members. It does, of course, being a social
thing, appear in, and operate through, human beings
and associations ; but it depends for its institutional
status, not upon a particiilar group of persons who
are its members, frame its rules, and seek to effect
through it a common purpose, but upon a general
acceptance and recognition by the members of the

41

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

community, backed by a sustaining fprce of custom
or tradition, with or without the sanction of law.
It is easily recognisable in some of its principal
instances — ^marriage, monogamy, monarchy, peerage,
caste, capitaUsm and many others belonging to
different ages and civilisations.

But, side by side with this use of the word, there ,
is another use of the word ' institution ' which,
while it suits well- enough our everyday convenience,
may easily be a source of confusion in a theoretical
treatment of the question. The word ' institution '
is often used to denote not only such ideas or re-
lations as those instanced above, but also certain
actual human groups which are, in the sense in
which we have used the word, ' associations.' Thus
Army, Navy, Chiurch and State, to say nothing of
less important bodies, are often directly referred to
as ' institutions.*

It is important to notice that, in the sense in
which we are using the word. Army, Navy, Church
and State are not ' institutions,' but associations
in which institutions may be held to be embodied or
expressed. Thus the Church is an association in
which the institution of reUgion is more or less per-
fectly embodied, the State an association more or
less perfectly embodying the institution of political
government. Army and Navy associations expressive
of the institution of natural force, and so on.

Now, an idea is not an ' institution ' merely
because it is widely or generally held or accepted.
It is an ' institution ' only if, in addition to being
so accepted, it is embodied in some external form
of social structure or communal custom, either in

42

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

an association or in some actual form of social
behaviour.

We may, then, provisionally define an ' institu-
tion ' as a recognised custom or form of social
tradition or idea, manifested in and through himian
beings either in their personal conduct and relation-
ships or through organised groups or associations.
Thus, the institution of monarchy is manifested in
a king, and the social recognition accorded to him,
the institution of peerage in the various peers and
their status, the institution of marriage in the various
married persons and their social recognition. In
the second group of cases, the position appears to
be rather different ; for there we first encounter a
form of association and then recognise that its social
status is due largely to the fact that it embodies an
institution. In these cases, we have to study the
association directly as an association, and then to
study it further in its character as the embodiment
of an institution.

An institution is, in fact, an idea which is mani-
fested concretely in some aspect of social conduct,
and which forms a part of the underlying assump-
tions of communal life. This does not make it
permanent, or immune from decay or dissolution,
though, as we shall see in a later chapter,^ it does
give to it a,n additional strength and power of
survival. It can, however, change or decay. A
monarchical Society may become a RepubUc, it it
finds that the monarchical institution has outUved
its use. The Guild System was in the Middle Ages
the embodiment of an institution ; but the modern

' For a fuller treatment of the whole question, see Chapter XIII .

43

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

Companies which have descended from the Guilds
have sunk down to the level of unimportant asso-
ciations and have lost aU claim to institutional
status.

But, although institutions and their embodiments
change, decay and die, it is characteristic of them to
possess a greater degree of permanence than belongs
to most associations. This relative permanence has
both its good and its bad side. It helps to assure to
an association or custom, which successfully embodies
an idea found to beyital to the community, a greater
stability than its members or its familiarity alone
coxild assure to it, by igiving it a communal sanction
and status ; but it also tends to cause the survival
of associations and customs which have acquired an
institutional character long after they have ceased
to be useful. Our estimate of the advantages and
disadvantages of institutions will depend mainly
upon our temperament. The temperamental Con-
servative (in no party sense) sees in institutions the
bulwark of Society : the temperamental innovator
sees in them the greatest barrier to progress.

We shall use the word ' institution ' in this book
mainly in a rather narrower sense than has been here
assigned to it. It will generally be used in con-
junction with the word ' association ' to denote
those institutions which are not, or are only in a
secondary sense, embodied as associations. When
I use it in the wider sense, to include institutions
which are also embodied in associations, the context
will make clear the sense, and I think no confusion
will be creatied.

There is one further word which we must briefly

44

NAMES AND THEIR MEANING

define before proceeding further. I have spoken
repeatedly of custom. Perhaps this word hardly
requires definition in the ordinary sense ; for its
meaning is sufiiciently clear. It means no more
and no less than a social habit or way of acting,
common to the members of a community or social
group, or at least widely enough diffused among
them over a long enough period of time to have
become in some degree taken for granted and acted
upon in normal circumstances without any conscious
exercise of deliberation. A custom is that which
most men do naturally when placed in the appro-
priate circumstances. It is as vital to a community
to have customs as it is vital to an individual to have
instincts ; for customs are to the community, as
instincts are to the individual mind — ^labour-saving
devices born of long use by successive generations.^

Customs,i then, are a vital part of the being of
community ; but they do not, as customs, enter into
the structure of Society — ^the organised part of the
community; They enter into Society only when
they become institutions, Uke marriage, or when
their maintenance becomes a purpose to an associa-
tion or institution. We shall therefore have little
to say of them in this book, not because they are
not important, but because, where they appear,
they wUl appear largely under other forms.

Before I close this chapter, I must endeavour to
clear away a difiiculty which may easily have arisen
in the reader's mind. I have spoken of the com-
munity as sustaining and of Society as being made

I Compare Samuel Butler's Life and, Habit and Prof. James
Ward's Heredity and Memory.

45

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

up of, associations and institutions, and of the latter
as being, in different senses, within Society and
within the community. Yet it is manifest that very
many associations and instit^ions are international,
and extend far beyond the boundaries of social area
clearly recognisable as communities and social com-
plexes which are clearly Societies. Does not this
present a difficulty ?

It win be seen that no difficulty is involved if our
original discussion of community is borne in mind.
We saw that two or more communities constantly
claim the allegiance of a single imdividual. The
family, the city^ the nation, the group of closely
related nations,the world — all these are communities.
Every association or institution, however widespread,
therefore exists within the area of some community.
International association for specific purposes is the
forerunner of a closer-knit international community,
and can only exist because, in a rudimentary form,
international community is already a fact.

Similarly, even international associations are
within a Society, however rudimentary. They are
the forerunners of a real Society of Nations which
will be as necessary an expression of international
community as Society within a nation is of national
community. Internationally above all, free asso-
ciation helps to develop the sense of community on
which it is based, and to forward the creation of an
international social complex for the expression of
that community.

46

CHAPTER III
THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

ALTHOUGH our last chapter was concerned
primarily with definitions, a nmnber of im-
portant conclusions have emerged from it.
We have learnt to regard community as a complex
of individuals, associations, institutions and customs
in varied and multiform relationships : we have
learnt to regard Society as a complex of associations
and institutions expressing, not the whole of the
communal life, but that part of it which is organised ;
and we have learnt to see in associations bodies
created by the wills of individuals for the expression
and fulfilment of purposes which they have in com-
mon. We have, in fact, already penetrated the
essential and underlymg structure of social life.

There is, however, at least one point of ultimate
principle in relation to which our vision is still
fundamentally incomplete. Our method has forced
us so far to look at each form of social structure in
something like isolation from the others. We have
analysed and defined ; but we have not, except in
relation to commimity, as yet made clear the struc-
tural principle which makes the complexities of
social life into something at least approaching a

47

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

coherent whole. The underlying principle of com-
munity, indeed, is neither more nor less than com-
munity itself — ^the sense of unity and social brother-
hood which permeates a mass of men and women
and makes them, in a real sense, one. But we have
not seen what is the underlying principle of social
organisation, a principle which must be distinct from
the principle of community, however dependent
upon it. This principle is the principle of Function.
Most people know something of those ethical
theories which, from the time of Plato onwards,
have made ' function ' their governing principle.
In ethics the principle is that each individual should
seek not his own self-interest as such, nor his own
self-development or self-expression as such, but
the fulfilment of his function in the social whole of
which he forms a part. His " end ' is not to be an
isolated or purely personal end, but an end which at
once places him in relation to something beyond
himself. Pushed to an extreme, this theory may
easily result not merely in a denial of all democracy,
but in a denial of personality itself as an iiltimate or
' end, ' in a glorification and personification of
Society in which human values are largely lost, and
the personal aspects of Ufe rigidly subordinated to
the collective elements. ' Function ' is eminently
unsatisfactory as an ethical principle, that is, as the
principlewhich should determine individual conduct,
not because each individual has not, in a very real
sense, his function to fulfil, but because he has so
many various functions,, and because it is just in the
choice of and between functions and in assigning
their relative places to the many functions, social

48

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

and personal, of which we are conscious, that our
selfhood appears as a co-ordinating principle beyond
any of them.

But the fact that function is not the paramount
ethical principle does not mean that it is not the
paramount principle of social organisation. We have
seen that men make, and enter into, associations for
the purpose of satisfying common wants, that is, in
terms of action, for the execution of common pur-
poses. Evey such purpose or group of purposes is
the basis of the function of the association which
has been called into bdng for its fulfilment. Again,
every institution in Society has an object which
has determined the main lines of its growth.
The fulfilment of this object is, then, the necessary
basis of the function of the institution. Of course,
either an association or an institution may be itself
complex and have a variety of related purposes or
objects, and therefore perhaps a variety of related
functions. But as the purpose or object behind an
association or institution must be specific and in
some degree inteUigible in order to have the power to
call the association or institution into being, so the
functions of all associations and institutions, however
they may change and develop, axe, in, the last
resort, also specific.

This is the reason why the functional principle is
finally applicable to associations and institutions,
but not to individuals. Every individual is in his
nature universal : his actions and courses of action,
his purposes and desires, are specific because he
makes them so ; but he himself is not, and cannot
be, made specific, and therefore cannot be expressed

49

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

in terms of function. This essential difference
makes once more manifest the fakity of the parallel
that is often drawn between individuals and
associations. An association is not, and cannot be,
in any real sense, a ' person,' because it is specific
and functional, and not universal. The individual
becomes ' functional,' or rather ' multi-functional,'
only by limiting himself ; the association is func-
tional and limited by its very nature.

But function is not so much the final cause of
each separate association, as the principle under-
lying the unity and coherence of associations. We
have seen that the value and full development of
Society depends not only on the wide prevalence
and diffusion of association in the Commonwealth,
but also on the successful co-operation and coherence
of the various associations. The possibility of this
coherence depends upon the fulfilment by each
association of its social function. In so far as the
vanous associations fulfil their respective social
purposes, and in so far as these purposes are them-
selves complementary and necessary for social well-
being, the welter of associations in the community
is converted into a coherent Society. In so far as
the associations work irrespective of their function
in a social whole, or set before themselves purposes
which are mutually contradictory and irreconcilable
with the good of the whole, the development out of
the welter of associations of a coherent Society is
thwarted and retarded.

It will be observed that a new consideration has
been introduced into the argument in the course of
the preceding paragraph. In treating function as

50

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

the characteristic, not of an isolated association, but
of an association as a factor in a coherent social
whole, or at least a social whole capable of coherence,
we have introduced a consideration of value which
compels us to scrutinise the purpose of each parti-
cular association in the light of its communal value
in and for the whole.

This consideration is, of course, in no sense novel.
The point is clearly stated, although the implications
of it are not clearly realised, in Rousseau's Discourse
on Political Economy in the following words : ^ —
" Every political Society is composed of other
smaller societies of different kinds, each of which
has its interests and rules of conduct ; but those
societies which everybody perceives, because
they have an external and authorised form, are
not the only ones which actually exist in the com-
munity : all individuals who are unitedby a common
interest compose as many others, temporary or
permanent, whose influence is none the less real
because it is less apparent, and the proper obser-
vation of whose relations is the true knowledge of
public morals and manners."
Thus, if we view an association as an isolated unit,
its object can be only the fulfilment of whatever
purpose or purposes its members have created and
maintain it to fulfil. Its will is, in Rousseau's
sense, ' general ' * in relation to the members of

• Rousseau, Political Economy, my (Everyman) edition, p. 253.

^ The use of the word ' general ' in this connexion must not
be understood as contradicting, what was said earlier, that
the function of every association is ' specific ' and not ' general.'
Its purpose and function remain ' specific,' whether the will
behind it be ' general ' or ' particular.'

51

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the association, but ' particular ' in relation to the
community as a whole.

The members of an association, as we have seen,
can only come together and work together in the
association if they have, to a certain esctent, a com-
mon object or purpose. Clearly, such a purpose
may be one that is socially desirable, or it may be
one that hardly affects any person outside the
association for either good or iU, or it may be de-
finitely anti-social. The mere fact that the asso-
ciation seeks only the ' interest ' of its own members
(as, if the word ' interest ' is understood in a wide
enough sense, every association, like every individual,
must do), is not enough to make it anti-social, or to
prevent it from being socially desirable. It is for
the good of the community that each group within
it should keep itself amused, instructed, developed ;
for these goods of individuals are, so far, clear
additions to the common stock of happiness, which
can only be the happiness of individuals. An
association becomes anti-social not in seeking the
good of its own members, but in seeking their good
in ways which detract from the good of others.
Such detraction only occurs either when one
association's objects come into conflict with those of
another, so that both cannot be fully satisfied, or
when an association aims at an object which con-
flicts with the personal objects of some individual,
whether a member of the association or not. Wher-
ever such a conflict occurs, coherence is impaired,
and the complementary working of associations and
individuals is made less perfect. The existence of
conflict shows that something is wrong ; but it does

5z

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

not, of course, show on which side the wrong lies,
or how it is distributed between the two.

We seem here to be confronted with a difficulty.
We cannot accept the objects of each association,
just as its members have made them, as making
for a coherent Society and a development of the
sense of community. It is, indeed, manifest that
very many associations, in seeking a partial good
for their own members, are acting anti-socially and
impairing the coherence of Society as a whole. We
must, therefore, criticfee and value associations in
accordance with some definite standard.

The term ' function ' is iQ~ itself, as applied to
associations, a reference to such a standard of
value ; for it places each association in relation,
not only to its own members, but to other associa-
tions and institutions, that is, to Society, and also
to individuals — ^to both the organised and the un-
organised parts of social life, that is, to Community,
If our first question in relation to any association
must be, ' What are the purposes which this
association was created and is maintained by its
members to subserve ? ' we ask that question only
in order to be able the better to proceed at once to a
second question, ' What is the function which this
association can serve in Society and in community ?'

This does not mean, of course, that it is possible
arbitrarily to determine from outside what the
function of an association is. The first question is
no less essential than, and is essential to, the second.
A ' function ' can only be based upon a purpose.
If men have formed an association for one purpose,
we cannot properly tell them that its fimction is to

53

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

do something quite different which has never entered
into their heads. The fact that the purposes of
men in associations change and develop does indeed
enable us to some extent to anticipate changes and
developments, and to say that an association will
find its true function by proceeding along a line of
development along which it has already begun to
move. But, apart from such intelUgent anticipa-
tions, we are Umited in assigning to any association
its function to the purposes which its members have
set before themselves in creating and maintaining it.

Social purposes are, thus, the raw material of social
functions, and social functions are social purposes
selected and placed in coherent relationship. This
selection cannot have a purely scientific basis ; for
it is a matter of ends as well as means, and depends
upon individual standards of value and the kind of
social Ufe which the individual desires. Thus at
this, as at every other fundamental point of social
theory, we are driven back upon the individual
consciousness and judgment as the basis of all social
values. Mr. Colvin of the Morning Post regards
one kind of social Ufe as finally desirable, and I
another. There is a sense in which I beheve most
firmly that I am right and he is wrong ; but social
theory cannot reconcile that fundamental difference
between us which is a difference of ends, though
it may clear away misunderstandings and prevent
loose thinking on both sides.

Each of us has in his mind, whether we rationalise
and sjretejnatise it or not, some conception of the
sort of social life which is ultimately desirable.
Our conceptions of the functions of particular

54

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

associations are inevitably formed in the light of our
ultimate conception of social value. In laying bare
the basis of community it should be possible for
men of varjdng standards and temperaments to
agree ; but I am fully conscious that in the later
chapters of this book I shall inevitably, as I come
to deal with more concrete subjects, more and more
obtrude my own standards of valuation. I can lay
bare the functional basis of association without
bringing my temperament into the argument ; but
as soon as I begin to deal with the actual function
of any particular association there will certainly be
wigs on the green.

That point in the argument, however, we have
not yet reached. We must first carry a good deal
further our examination of the principle of function
in its general application. Function, we have seen,
emerges clearly when, and only when, an association
is regarded, not in isolation, but in relation to other
associations and to individuals, that is, to some extent
in relation to a sjretem of associations, a Society,
and a system of associations and individuals, a
community. Such a S3?stem evidently implieis a
more or less clear demarcation of spheres as between
the various functional associations, in order that
each may make its proper contribution to the whole
without interfering with the others. It is, however,
easy, in search of sjmimetry, to push this point too
far. It is essential that the main lines of demarca-
tion should be laid down, and, in the case of the
more vital forms of association, that they should
be most carefuUy and exactly drawn, wherever
possible by experience rather than by arbitrary

55

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

' constitution-making ' ; but in the case of the less
vital forms of association, which afEect the general
structure of Society only in a small degree either for
good or for Dl, the same exact delimitation of spheres
is unnecessary, and even undesirable as detracting
from the freedom and spontaneity of association.

We must indeed bear in mind alwa37s that asso-
ciations are not mere machines, but are capable of
growth and development. We must not, therefore,
even in the case of the most vital associations, so
exactly define their function and sph^e of operation
for to-day as to prevent them from developing the
power to exercise their function of to-morrow. If
we do, the result will not be in most cases what we
expect. The association will develop in spite of
prohibition ; but in developing it may well break
the Society which encloses it, or at the least cause
vast waste of energy and unnecessary friction. We
must remember always that it is of vital importance
for a community not to be compelled constantly to
make for itself new sets of associations, but rather
to develop out of old ones the changed forms which
are required for the fulfilment of new functions. It
is this vital need of conmiunity that makes it so
important to preserve as far as possible the freedom
of association and the greatest spontaneity of
associative action that is consistent with social
coherence.

There are, of course, risks attaching to this course.
If association is left largely free and untrammelled,
many associations, instead of fulfUUng their function
in the social whole, will concern themselves to a
considerable extent in fulfilling even the anti-social

56

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

purposes of their members, or in doing something
which, while it is in itself not anti-social but even
socially valuable, falls within the function of some
other form of association. There arise in this way
two main forms of perversion of function, leading
respectively to opposition and to confusion in
Society. These two forms of perversion cannot,
of course, be kept clearly distinct ; for they often
appear together in the same association and in the
same act. They are, however, theoretically dis-
tinct, and we can, at the outset, examine them
separately.

Opposition arises, as we have seen, when an
association pursues a purpose which, being a pur-
pose of its own members,^ is anti-social in that
it not only conflicts with the purposes of other
associations or individuals, but with the good of
the community. Opposition, then, arises from the
pursuit of anti-social purposes . Strictly speaking, no
anti-social purpose can be a part of the function
of an association, in the sense in which we are using
the term ' function.' But, as a function is always
a complex thing, the element of ' opposition '
may arise iB'the course of the pursuit of a socially
desirable function. Thus, the production of com-
modities for use and the preservation of order are
both socially desirable functions ; but either of
them may be pursued in anti-social ways which
give rise to ' opposition ' and perversion of func-
tion. If an association producing commodities
for use makes its main object not the production

• Or, of course, of an effective majority or efEective " conscious
minority ' of them.

57

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

for use, but the realisation of a profit for its members,
perversion of function arises. Commodities are
still produced ' for use ' in a sense ; but the
function of the association is perverted by the intro-
duction of the profit-making purpose. Similarly,
if an association whose function is the preservation
of order preserves order in the interest of a single
class and deals unequal justice to rich and poor,
law and order are stiU partially preserved ; but the
function of the association is perverted by its
partiality and the foundations of justice are to
some extent undermined. We shall have much
more to say of this subject when we come to consider
the economic structure of Society and the problem
of class-divisions within the community.

Confusion arises when two associations attempt
to fulfil the same purpose, and when the purpose
is such as requires not a multiplicity of doers, but
doing on a co-ordinated plan. Such confusion
may be perfectly bona fide and even fortuitous.
There are functions which Ue on the border-line of
two or more associations, but which must be ful-
filled by only one if confusion is to be avoided.
Again, there are many cases in which two or more
associations, whose purposes were originally dis-
tinct, develop towards the same object, and become
wholly or partly identical in function. Such cases
are often dealt with by amalgamation ; but failing
this or an agreed re-allocation of functions, con-
fusion arises. Again, in many cases there is some
job which badly needs doing, and two or more
groups of men simultaneously conceive the^ idea
of forming an association for the doing of it. Here

58

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

again amalgamation is often the obvious remedy.
Many other cases can easily be brought to mind
in which confusion of functions arises even where
the purposes of the associations concerned are
admitted to be socially desirable or not harmful.

Mingled confusion and opposition, involving a
double perversion of function, is very frequent.
Let us return to our case of the production of com-
modities. Under the existing economic order of
Society, there is more than one party to such pro-
duction. Employers and workers are alike strongly,
and separately, organised in economic associations.
Very often the employers in a given industry and the
workers in that industry are endeavouring to secure
the adoption of diametrically opposite policies in
relation to the same thing. Their purposes are
opposed, and, without entering into the moral
factors in the situation, we can see that this often
leads to perversion of the function of the association
by way both of opposition and of confusion. That
is to say, both associations seek to cover to some
extent the same field of activity and this leads to
confusion, even if their points of view are not
fundamentally opposed ; but often in addition
each advocates a different pohcy, so that not only
confusion, but also actual conflict, results.

It is important to notice that perversion of func-
tion in one case, especially where the perversion
gives rise to actual opposition, frequently leads to,
and even necessitates, perversion of function
in other cases. If the appropriate organisation
is not fulfilling a particular function, it may become
necessary or desirable for some other organisation,

59

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

less fitted by its nature for the task, to undertake
to fulfil it as best it can. Again, if one association
is fulfilling its function in- a perverted manner, so
as to serve a sectional instead of a general interest,
it may be necessary or desirable for some other
organisation to intervene in order to redress the
balance. Current controversies about the use of
direct action (».e. the strike) for political purposes
serve to illustrate this point. It is contended by
many of the advocates of direct action that the per-
version of function on the part of the State makes it
necessary for the Trade Unions to act in the indus-
trial field in order to counteract the effects of this
political perversion. It falls outside the scope of
our present inquiry to determine whether this
argument is sound or not in any particular case ;
but it is dear that such cases can and do arise.

At the same time, it must always be remembered
that perversion of fimctions is always, in itself, a
bad thing, whether it is spontaneous perversion or
consequential perversion designed to counteract a
perversion which has already taken place. It may
be necessary in certain cases ; but the mere fact
of its necessity is a clear indication that all is not
well with Society. When Society is in health, each
association fulfils its social function with the mini-
mum of perversion.

Indeed, when counteracting forms of perversion
become necessary on any large scale, they serve as a
dear indication that the structure of Society re-
quires to be overhauled. Perversion, carried to an
extreme, and accompanied by its couiiteracting
forms leads to revolution, followed by a reconstruc-

60

THE PRINCIPLE OF FUNCTION

tion of the body social. Such revolution can, of
course, be more or less complete ; and involve a
more or less complete reconstructing and a more or
less complete ' sweep ' of the old social r^me.
Often, less degrees of perversion and counter-per-
version compel a readjustment of social organisa-
tion without the need for a general evolution in the
body social. The first so - called ' revolution ' in
Russia was rather such a readjustment than a real
revolution ; but, this proving inadequate, it was
followed by the ' November Revolution,' which
was a real revolution involving a fundamental
reconstruction of Society.

It is impossible to study the forms of fimctional
perversion with any completeness without a fairly
thorough examination of the problem of social
classes, which has been responsible, at least in
recent times, for by far the greatest amount of
perversion. It is also impossible to make the study
complete without dealing with the position of
organised rdigion, i.e. Churches, in Society ; for
reUgious differences have been, at least in former
times, almost equally potent causes of perversion.
Both these points, however, must be reserved for
later consideration. In this chapter, our object
has been merely that of laying bare the functional
principle itself, on the basis on which Society, as a
complex of associations and institutions, niust
rest if it is to achieve any degree of coherence or to
make possible a real and abiding spirit of com-
munity. Perversion of function, by destroying the
coherence of social organisation, not only upsets the
balance of Society, but stirs up bad blood between the

61

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

members of the community, and thereby impfiirs
that part of the life of the individual which falls
outside the sphere of social organisation, almost
equally with that part which falls within it. Due
performance by each association of its social func-
tion, on the other hand, not only leads to smooth
working and coherence in social organisation, but
also removes the removable social hindrances to the
' good life ' of the individual. In short, function
is the key not only to ' social,' but also to com-
munal and personal well-being.

62

CHAPTER IV

THE FORMS AND MOTIVES OF
ASSOCIATION

THE time has now come for a more thorough
examination of the forms of association which
exist in Society, and for some further dis-
cussion of the social character of the motives imder-
Ijong association. I do not mean that an exhaustive
enumeration of the forms of association, or even an
exhaustive classification of them, is either possible
or desirable — still less, that the motives behind
association can be satisfactorily reduced to a few
broad and simple categories. The object of this
chapter is essentially tentative. I shall only try
to enumerate and classify the mdn forms of associa-
tion— ^those which possess the greatest degree of
social content, and to discuss briefly those dominant
social motives which are constantly appearing in
many diverse forms of association.

Even apart from the Hmitations of our space and
time, there is one fact which would by itself forbid
any exhaustive catalogue. Social association is
forever assuming new forms and discarding old ones,
as new problems emerge for men to deal with, and
as men change their attitude towards the problems

63

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

which confront them. The fountain of association
does not run dry, and it is impossible to enumerate
all those who come to drink of its waters. Moreover,
if we could enumerate to-day, our list would be out
of date to-morrow; for new forms of association
would have arisen which very possibly would not
fit into any classification which we might have
devised on the basis of our present knowledge.

Nevertheless, we can usefully proceed to a classi-
fication of a sort. While new forms of association
are constantly arising, the essential forms of
association only vary over considerable periods.
That even the most essential forms do vary, appear
and disappear, cannot be denied. There have been
many independent communities without a State ;
yet to most people to-day the State appears to be an
essential form of association. The Guilds were an
essential form in the Middle Ages ; but where are
the Guilds to-day ? It is true that we have to-day
instead of craft Guilds many other forms of economic
association ; but is even economic association an
essential form for all commimities ? Have there
not been commimities devoid of distinct economic
organisation ? This can only be denied by those
who persist, in face of all vital considerations, in
regarding the family in certain primitive Societies
as primarily and distinctly an economic association.
The family in these Societies certainly had economic,
among other, functions ; but this is not enough to
constitute it as, in its fundamental character, an
economic association.

We must recognise, then, not only 'that the forms
of association vary constantly from day to day, but

64

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

also that even the essential forms vary over longer
periods.- Our classification therefore has reference,
not to all social situations, but to the social situation
of the civilised communities of our own day. Even
so it is necessarily imperfect ; for the institutions of
revolutionised Russia and Hungary require, in some
respects, a new classification, and a revolution else-
where in civiUsed countries may compel a general
amendment of the classification which is adopted
here. The nearer we approach in this book to the
study of actual social organisations, the more
limited and inadequate we shall necessarily find
our generalisations to become.

It will be a part of our object in this chapter,
not merely to describe the outstanding forms of
association in our own day and generation, but to
attempt, to some extent, to discriminate between
essential and non-essential forms. This is, of
course, a matter of degree, and no definite line can
be drawn. There are, however, apart from doubtful
cases, certain forms of association which can fitly
be described as essential to Society, and certain
others which are not essential to Society. It must
be made clear at the outset that this discrimination
does not imply any moral valuation. All associa-
tions must finally be judged and valued by their
service to the individuals who are members of the
community, and it may well be found that some of
the associations which are here classified as non-
essential are of transcendent value to the individual.
This, however, is not the question with which I am
here concerned. It is purely with social essen-
tiality that our classification deals. That is to say,

E 65

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

a part of my present purpose is to discriminate
between those associations which form an integral
part of the organised coherence of Society, from
those which, however great their value, are not in
this sense integral and essential to organised Society.
The meaning and purpose of this discrimination will
emerge more clearly at a later stage.

We may reasonably expect to find the essential
forms of association among those forms which are
outstanding, and occur to the mind naturally as
typical forms. It does not follow by any means
that all outstanding forms are essential : I have
only said that essential forms are likely to be out-
standing. We must begin, then, with at least a
partial classification of outstanding forms.

This classification cannot be entirely simple in
character ; for there are two different principles on
which it must be based. We have to consider both
(a) the content of the interest which the association
sets before itself ; and (b) its method of operation
in relation to that interest. The first of these
principles is of supreme importance in revealing the
interrelation in Society of the various forms of
association, that is, their specific functions ; the
second is of primary importance in discriminating
between essential and non-essential forms.

According to the first of these two ways of classi-
fication, we have to distinguish between associations
according to the content of their various interests.
Here the chief forms which emerge at once into view
are the political, the vocational and appetitive,
the religious, the provident, the philanthropic, the
sociable, and the theoretic. There are others ; but

66

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

most of the prevalent forms of association fall under
one or another of these heads.

Of some of the more important forms of political
association we shall have much more to say in the
next chapter, when we deal with the State and
kindred forms of association and institution. We
must, however, say something of them here. By
a political association I mean an association of
which the main purpose is to deal with those
personal relationships which arise directly out of
the fact that men live together in communities,
and which require, and are susceptible to, social
organisation. I freely admit that it is almost
impossible to define accurately or clearly the nature
and functions of poUtical association, and I must
make it plain that nothing that is said in this chapter
is intended to prejudge the question, discussed in
the next chapter, whether the State, for instance, can
be regarded as a Tpnrely' political association in the
sense here given to the word. That is a very big
question indeed ; but it does not affect the present
issue. I am here, and throughout this book, using
the term ' political ' in a definite and limited
sense, in which it is contrasted with vocational,
religious and other functional terms.

A political association, then, is an association of
which the purposes and interests are primarily
' political ' in the sense defined above. This
definition includes not only the State qua association,
and the various less extensive regional and local
authorities operating as political bodies within the
geographical area included in a State, but also, as
we shall see, in. a secondary sense, many other forms

67

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

of association which are also ' political ' in their
interest — a political party or society or any bodies
concerned with the advocacy of any form of political
doctrine or policy. Parhament, and the County
Borough of Smethwick, in so far as they are asso-
ciations, fall, in this classification, under the same
heading as the Liberal Party or the Anti- Vaccination
League.

A vocational association may be defined as an
association consisting of persons who are and whose
purpose or interest in the association is directly and
primarily concerned with the production, distribu-
tion or exchange of some commodity, or the render-
ing of some service, or with some question or course
of action directly subordinate to one or more of these
interests. It thus includes the whole range of pro-
fessional and occupational association, from that of
manual workers to that of technicians and experts,
and to that of employers and traders and capitahsts.
A Trade Union, a professional institute or society,
an Employers' Association, a Limited Company, the
British Empire Producers' Organisation, the British
Medical Association, and the National Union of
Teachers are all instances of vocational association.

It wiU have been noticed that, in the preUminary
list of the main forms of association under this
classification, vocational association was specially
linked with another form, which, for want of a better
word, I am forced to call appetitive. It must be
made clear at once that the word is not used in any
bad or derogatory sense. By appetitive associations
I mean those bodies whose members' primary
concern in the association is not, as in the case of

68

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

vocational associations, with production or the
rendering of service, but with consumption and use,
that is, with the securing of a supply on fair terms
of the commodities produced and the services
rendered by, or under the auspices of, vocational
associations. The consumers' Co-operative Move-
ment, the Railway Season-Ticket Holders' Associa-
tion, the Commercial Gas Users' Association, and
the Parents' National Educational Union are all
examples of appetitive association. This form,
it will readily be seen, is mainly complementary to
vocational association, the two forms corresponding
to the double relations of buying and selling, de-
mand and supply, receiving and giving. Different
schools of social propagandists lay very different
stresses upon the relative importance of these two
complementary forms of association.

It is perhaps necessary barely to notice here a
point which will be more fully dealt with in later
chapters. There are certain schools of thought
which regard the State, and with it the local author-
ities, as primarily associations of consumers and
users, that is to say as, in our sense, appetitive associa-
tions. Similarly, some schools of Communists regard
the Commtme as primarily an association of producers
and service Tenderers, that is, in our sense, a voca-
tional association. These theories lead directly to
different views as to the proper constitution of State
or Commune ; but, as they do not affect our present
classification, consideration of them can be post-
poned till a later stage.

We come next to those forms of association
which can be called religious. These include not

69

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORt^

only organised Churches and Connexions, but also
propagandist movements which aim at securing
a religious object, such as the ' Life and Liberty
Movement ' within the Church of England. As we
shall have much more to say of them later, they
need not detain us here.

The next important form of association is the
provident, in which a number of persons join together
for mutual assistance, whether under a definite
scheme of contributions and benefits for certain
purposes, or for a less rigid and definite form of
mutual help or beneficence. A Friendly Society,
or other mutual insurance associations, whether
among workers or among capitalists in a particular
trade {e.g. shipping), or among teachers or clergy-
men, or on a basis which takes no account of occupa-
tion, falls under this head. Many Insurance Com-
panies are, of course, not provident and mutual, but
profit-making concerns, which belong to the sphere
of vocational organisation ; but the great Friendly
Societies with their millions of members afford a
large-scale example of real provident associations.
Trade Unions also are, of course, in their aspect of
benefit societies, assignable to this class of associa-
tion.

Closely allied to provident associations in certain
respects, though very different from them in others,
are the many associations which exist not for the
securing of benefits for their own members, but for
the conferring of benefits on other people. Charit-
able Societies of whatever tj^e, whether they actually
confer benefits or merely meddle with other people's
affairs, and associations which deal with moral

70

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

rather than material benefits for others, can be
grouped together under this head. Philanthropic
will serve for a name for this very mixed class.

Next comes what is perhaps the largest of all
groups of associations, those of a purely or mainly
sociable character. These are found in their pure
form in the vast number of football clubs, cricket
clubs, athletic associations, whist clubs, dancing
clubs, workmen's clubs, ' clubmen's ' clubs, night
clubs, and all the other t57pes of associatioiis devoted
purely to objects of sport, recreation and sociability.
Mixed forms are also frequently found. Constitu-
tional clubs. Liberal Clubs, Labour Clubs and many
others are sociable in character, but are confined
to persons holding similar opinions, and partake
in some small degree of the nature of poUtical
associations. Purely sociable associations often
federate with other associations of the same kind ;
but generally speaking they are, if their federations
and tournaments are included, sufficient unto
themselves. Except when licensing or gaming laws
are under consideration, or some particularly ardent
campaign for pubHc moraUty is in progress, they
mix little, as a rule, in the affairs of Society.

All the forms of association mentioned above are
in a definite sense practical and aim at the taking
of certain overt forms of action, whether administra-
tive propagandist, or purely recreative. This is not
the case with the only remaining form of association
with which we shall here concern ourselves, the
theoretical form. This includes learned and scientific
societies of every type, whatever their object of
study and discussion. As learning and science

71

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

have a definite bearing on many practical affairs,
theoretic associations often tend to approximate to
one or another of the practical types, or to possess
a mixed character. Moreover, vocational associa-
tions, especially among technicians concerned with a
common body of knowledge, often pmsue theoreti-
cal as well as practical ends. Many discuss both the
economic and other claims of their members and the
status of their profession, and also the theoretic
aspects of the science which they profess. Again,
the close relation between industry and science
gives rise to associations, half practical and half
theoretical, concerned with the application of
scientific results and methods to industrial problems.
The numerous Industrial Research Associations
which have sprung up in recent years are examples
of this hybrid form.

So far we have been following entirely the first
of the two principles of classification with which
we set out — and distinguishing associations accord-
ing to the content of their respective interests. We
have now to take up our other principle, and to
survey associations briefly according to their method
of operation. We saw, in speaking of pohtical,
and again of religious, associations, that they in-
cluded not only such bodies as States and Churches
respectively, but also all manner of other societies,
the content of whose purpose was political or
religious. Our second principle will make plain
the difference between, say, a State and a pohtical
party, or the Church of England and the ' life
and Liberty Movement ' which aims at its regenera-
tion. The difference in both those cases is that

72

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

States and Churches are alike mainly administrative,
whereas political parties and movements among
Churchmen are mainly propagandist.

By an administrative association I mean an
association which is primarily concerned, not with
the advocacy of any particular opinion, but with
the doing of some particular job, the arranging and
conducting of some particular part of the work
which has to be done in Society. This work may
be done in many different ways and with many
varying degrees of success. Thus the State may
be governed by the Unionist Party, the Liberal
Party, or the Labour Party, or by a Coalition ; but
the primary concern of the State is not with Tory-
ism or liberaUsm x)r Labour, but with the doing of
certain definite jobs — ^with the work to be done,
and not with the ways of doing it.

All the forms of association mentioned in our
previous classification include administrative associa-
tions, which, are indeed primary in every group.
Not only States and Churches, but also Trade Unions,
Limited Companies, cricket clubs, Friendly Societies,
charitable associations, scientific societies. Co-
operative Societies and the rest are principally
administrative in function, that is. to say, they
exist not for the spreading of opinion, but for the
doing of things. In a very real sense, administra-
tive associations are primary, where propagandist
associations are only secondary, and it is among the
administrative associations that we shall find the
essential social associations of which we are in search.
Propagandist associations have already been de-
fined by inference. They are those associations

73

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

which exist not so much for the doing of a par-
ticular job, as for advocating that the job should
be done in a particular way, that a particular poUcy
or constitution should be adopted by the primary
association concerned with the doing of it. Propa-
gandist associations are secondary, because they
exist, not in order to do things themselves, but to
persuade primary associations and individuals into
a particular course of action. There is thus a sense
in which they aim at their own extinction ; for,
when their policy is completely adopted, they cease
to have a reason for existence, unless they find a new
policy or remain in being in order to see that the
results already achieved are maintained- They
may, as a whole, be very necessary to Society ; but
no particular propagandist association is essential
to the structure of Society.

Of course, I am not denjdng that all associations,
however propagandist, possess, in a secondary
sense, an administrative character, or that most
administrative associations also partake, in a similar
sense, of the propagandist character. But the
distinction none the less holds ; for the fact that no
association at all can exist without being confronted
by internaladministrative problems does not make
the main purpose of the association administrative.
Similarly, the fact that an association engages in
certain forms of propagandist activity does not give
it a propagandist character. The projected estab-
lishment of a Propaganda Department of State
would not make the State a mainly propagandist
association.

We are now in a position to pursue rather further
74

The FOllMS OF ASSOCIATION

our quest of the essential forms of social association,
not necessarily those essential for aU time, but those
essential in our own day and civilisation. It has
already been made clear that the term ' essential '
is not meant simply to imply any moral valuation,
and that it is purely social essentiality with which we
are here concerned. The key to essentiality is thus
the performance of some function which is vital to
the coherent working of Society, and without which
Society would be lop-sided or incomplete. We have
seen that no particular propagandist association can
be regarded as essential in this sense ; for, although
propaganda performs a highly desirable function
in keeping individuals and associations ' up to the
scratch,' they are not themselves concerned with
the direct execution of vital social functions. Propa-
gandist association in general is, no doubt, essential ;
but no particular propagandist association can claim
essentiaUty except under one condition.

This condition is the atrophy or perversion of an
essential administrative association or institution.
Where this occurs, and the administrative body
fails to perform its function, propagandist organi-
sation may be, for the moment, the only way of
recalling it to its function or, failing that, calling a
new body -^ into being in its place. The propa-
gandist association is not, and can hardly become,
this new body ; but it may be temporarily essential
as a means.

This, however, is only a partial exception to a
rule which holds good in general. It is among
administrative associations that the essential forms
must be sought. But not all such forms of associa-

75

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

tion are essential. Society can do without any
particular form of sociable association, as it can do
without any propagandist association, and although
it cannot do without sociable association as a whole.
The same applies to provident and philanthropic and
also to theoretic associations . Religious association,
on the other hand, must probably be regarded as
essential to almost every existing Society, because
rehgion as a personal emotion and belief is widely
diffiised in almost every existing community. The
position of religious associations in Society is, how-
ever, as we shall see later, peculiar because of their
fundamentally and exclusively spiritual fimction.^

We are left with the three forms of poUtical,
vocational and appetitive association. Each of these
must, I think, be regarded as essential. Each deals
with a vital aspect of Social organisation, with an
' interest ' vital to the mass of the members of the
community, and each is based upon a deep-rooted
and vital instinct of association. It is mainly on the
right relationship of these three forms of association
that the coherent organisation of Society depends.
I cannot hope to make this point absolutely clear at
the present stage ; but I believe that it will emerge
with increasing clearness in the course of subsequent
chapters.

Even if we hold that a particular form of associa-
tion is essential, this is not by itself enough to
establish the essentiality of any single association
belonging to that class. Within each of the essential
forms we may expect to find, in any particular stage
of social development, certain actu^ associations

' See Chapter XI.
76

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

which can be regarded as essential ; but, in order to
establish this, it is necessary to consider not only the
form of any association in question, but also its
particular content and the motives which animate
its members in their common action. Not every
association which is administrative in character and
pohtical in content is sufficiently important to merit
the character of essentiaUty. For this it must have
a particular function which is vital enough to sub-
stantiate its claim. Thus, the State may be an
essential association ; but, to take an extreme in-
stance, it is by no means clear that the unnatural
aggregation which we call a Rural District Council
can claim the same privilege. Again, in the voca-
tional sphere, it is essential that producers should be
organised ; but it does not foUow that each par-
ticular Trade Union or Employers' Association can
claim essentiaUty. The final test of essentiality is
practical, and cannot be made by any abstract or
scientific procedure.

There is, however, one further important test
to which associations for essentiaUty can be
subjected. In our preliminary discussion of the
nature of association,^ we attempted a distinction
be+ween different types of motive which animate
men in association. We drew a distinction between
' several ' and ' associative ' motives, and dis-
cussed in some detail the bearings of this distinction
on the social import of associations. We saw that
' associative ' wants and motives far more easily
engendered a sense t>i community than ' several '
wants, and therefore gave the association animated

> See ante, p. 34.

77

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

by them a higher status and made it, so far, a greater
factor in, the making of Society. Our subsequent
examination of the main forms of association has
placed us in a position to appreciate more fuUy the
bearing of this distinction upon social theory, and
also to develop it somewhat further.

The mere fact that an association is animated
mainly by truly ' associative ' motives and interests
is not enough to establish the fact that it is fulfilling
a useful function in Society. For the ' associative '
want which it seeks to fulfil, however ' associative '
it may be, is so far only a want of the members of
the association, and may still be contrary to the
general interest of the community. An ' associa-
tively ' motived association, therefore, is not
necessarily a socially useful association. But as it
is the case that there is such a thing as general,
social well-being, it is clear that the interests .of the
members of a community do run together more
than they clash. The members of a community
have, ex hypothesi, a sense of unity and social
relationship, and, while they often organise in
groups which are opposed on particular points,
there is a prima facie reason for supposing that,
in the majority of cases, where they co-operate
on an associative basis for the fulfilling of a want
which they can only enjoy in common, the fulfil-
ment of that want is in the general interest. More-
over, as the community can only find an organised
expression — even so alwa3rs a partial expression —
through social associations and institutions, it is
clear that associations based on an associative want
must be the main ingredients in the Society. In

78

THE FORMS OF ASSOCIATION

them, men learn to co-operate closely and con-
stantly ; and close and constant co-operation in the
joint fulfilment of a common object, though it is
not necessarily to be identified with the fulfilment
of a socially useful function, is the chief means by
which men can learn how to fulfil such functions.

It is not, however, generally possible to discrimi-
nate sharply between associations or forms of
associations, and to say that in this association or
form the basis is purely ' several,' and in the other,
purely ' associative.' Almost every association is,
as we have seen, a medley of different motives, and
is partly ' several,' and only in part truly ' associa-
tive.' But, in proportion as an association finds
and fulfils its function in Society, the ' associative '
basis tends to become predominant, and the
motive of ' severalty ' sinks into the background.
The best instance I can find of this may strike many
readers as being highly controversial ; but I cite as
clearly illustrating my meaning and expressing my
own profound beMef. A Trade Union used to be
defined as " a continuous association of wage-earners
for the purpose of maintaining or improving their
conditions of employment." Such a definition
almost implies the complete dominance of 'severalty'
in the motives animating the members of the associa-
tion. But, in our own day, whatever its justifi-
cation in the past, this definition has become clearly
inadequate ; for the increasing tendency of Trade
Unionists to claim for their associations not merely
better conditions, but a definite place in the control
of industry, plainly iihpKes an emergence of truly
' associative ' niotiyes, and, in my own opinion,

79

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

represents a substantial development of Trade
Unionism towards the performance of its proper
social function.

Be this as it may, it is clear that, as an association
changes and develops, it may change its motives
as well as its purposes, and may pass from a stage in
which ' severalty ' is predominant to one in which
it is mainly actuated by ' associative ' motives.
This is an indication, though it is not a proof, that
the association is moving towards the discovery of
its true function in Society.

This chapter has dealt entirely with the forms
and motives of association, and has only once or
twice cursorily mentioned the working of institutions
as distinct from associations. I have made this
omission advisedly, not because institutions are not
important, but because we have not yet reached the
stage at which it is possible to deal adequately with
them. This we shall be able to do only when we
have exananed successively the political, vocational
and appetitive (especially the economic), and
religious structure of Society, in which institutions
mainly appear. Upon this part of our inquiry we
can now embark without further delay.

80

CHAPTER V
THE STATE

WHAT is the State ? And what is its function
in Society and in the community ? These
questions appear to us akeady in a different
light from that in which they appear in most books
on Social Theory. They are still vital problems ;
but they are no longer the centre of the whole
problem of community. The State, however im-
portant, is and can be for us no more than the
greatest and most permanent association or in-
stitution in Society, and its claim even to
any such position will have to be carefully con-
sidered.

We must bear in n^nd throughout our considera-
tion that it is not a question of The State, a
single unique entity existing alone in a circum-
ambient void, but of ' States ' existing in many
different communities at different stages of develop-
ment, and entering into the most varied relation-
ships one with another. . When we speak of ' the
State,' therefore, we are only using a class-name to
which we can attach our generalisations as predicates.
We are ignoring non-essential differences between
one State and another, and concentrating on those
F 8i

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

essential characteristics which States have in
common.

This, however, is to give too inclusive and gener-
alised a scope to our treatment of the subject.
Although we shall sometimes be referring to char-
acteristics common to all States at all times and
stages of development, we shall be using in the main
for purposes of illustration ' the modern State,'
that is, the States which exist in our own time and
stage of civilisation. Taking the nature common to
these States as our basis, we shall attempt to arrive,
from the study of their common nature, at some
conception of their true function in the Society of
to-day and to-morrow. Further than that we can
hardly hope to go ; for a new generation and a new
degree of social development will inevitably call for
a restatement of social theory.

Let us begin with a brief summary and analysis of
the principal activities of the modem State, that is,
of the States which exist in civilised communities in
the world of to-day. Here, again,it would, of course,
be useful to attempt a complete and exhaustive
enumeration. Nor is it necessary to our purpose,
which is only that of securing sufficient material to
work upon in our attempt to discover the State's
function in the Society of to-day. As we saw in our
discussion of the principle of function, it is far from
being the case that every actual activity of the State
forms a part of its social function ; but it is the case
that the function of the State can only be sought
among activities which the State does, in some
degree, already exercise. In order to discover the
function of the State, it is therefore necessary to

82

THE STATE

adopt a double procedure. We have first to ex-
amine, and select from, the actual activities of the
State those which are, prima facie, essential, and we
have then to examine the fundamental nature and
constitution of the State with a view to determining
which of these essential activities can be regarded
as belonging to its function.

It is a commonplace observation that during the
last two generations at least the activities of the
State have been undergoing constant and rapid
multiplication and expansion. Moreover, it is
generally recognised that this expansion has been
far more extensive in the economic, than in any
other sphere. When Locke wrote his Treatises on
Civil Government, interpreting in them the ideas and
social situation of the English Revolution of 1688-9,
it was still easy to regard the function of the State as
strictly specific and hmited, because its actual
activities were in the main specific and limited, and
were in process of actual construction. To-day,
whatever may be the true function of the State, there
is an undeniable temptation to conclude, on the
basis of its actual activities, that its functions are
practically universal and unUmited. Such a con-
clusion, whether it be right or wrong, at least goes
with the grain of present-day Society. Yet it may
be that Locke was nearer to being right than those
social theorists who are ready to conclude, because
the State does everything in fact, that its social
function is pantopragmatic and universal.

To-day, almost every developed State is cease-
lessly active in economic affairs. It passes Factory
Acts, and other legislation designed to ensure a

83

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

minimum of protection to the workers engaged in
production ; it regulates wages and hours : it
attempts to provide for and against imemployment :
it intervenes, successfully or unsuccessfully, in
industrial disputes : it compels employers to provide
compensation for accidents, and both employers
and workers to contribute to social insurance fluids
which it administers. On the other hand, it regulates
to some extent the commercial operations of
financiers and employers, restricts or pretends to
restrict trusts and profiteering, uses its consular
service and special agents to aid foreign trade,
encourages, subsidises and assists in industrial
research, enacts laws affecting, and enters into many
formal and informal relationships with capitalist
interests and associations. Moreover, more and
more it embarks itself upon economic enterprises,
conducts a Post Office or a railway service, and
becomes the direct employer of vast numbers of its
own citizens, incidentally often imposing political
and other disqualifications upon them on the groimd
that they are State emplo3rees.

To aU this industrial and commercial activity of
the national State must be added the no less complex
activities of local authorities acting under the laws
enacted by the State — ^municipal and other local
bye-laws regulating industry and commerce, and
the extending operations of ' municipal trading.'
It win, however, be more convenient to consider
the character and activities of local authorities
separately at a later stage, although no clear or
hard and fast fine can be drawn between a State
and a local authority in those cases where 'federal,'

84

THE STATE

' Dominion ' or even ' regionalist ' forms of govern-
ment exist.

There is a further economic activity of the State
which is more and more becoming manifest in our
own day. Taxation is, in its origin, merely a method
of collecting from individuals that proportion of their
incomes which must be diverted from their personal
use to meet the necessary expenses of State admini-
stration. But, as the activities of the State expand,
taxation shows a marked tendency to become also a
method of redistributing incomes within the com-
munity. This new tendency emerges already in
S57stems of graduated taxation ; but it becomes the
leading principle in those proposals, nowhere yet
carried far into effect, which aim at its definite and
deliberate use as a means to at least comparative
equality of income.^

Apart from taxation for administrative purposes,
the present economic activities of the State are
largely of recent growth. This is not to say that
the State had not previously engaged in economic
action on a large scale, as for instance under what is
known as the ' Mercantile System.' But between
the ' Mercantile System ' and the economic activity
of the modern State intervenes in many cases a
period of comparative inactivity — laissez faire —
following upon the changes caused by the Industrial
Revolution. In the Middte Ages, when economic
activities were largely in the hands of the Guilds, and

* The State Bonus Scheme, actively advocated by Mr. Dennis
Mihier and his colleagues of the State Bonus League, is an
advanced example of this tendency. It is a definite proposal
for a redistribution by the State, on a basis of equality, of a
considerable proportion of the communal income.

85

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

in the period of the Industrial Revolution, when they
were largely in the hands of competitive capitalists,
the State's intervention in economic matters was,
comparatively, very restricted indeed.

Extensive as the economic activities of the State
are, it will be agreed that they have not yet, in any
actual State, reached an essentially central position.
This might occur, and would probably occur if the
pure CoUectivists had their way ; but, for the
present, the central position is still occupied by
political and co-ordinating rather than by economic
activities, although the latter constantly threaten
the position of the two former. Our next inquiry
must be into the nature of the political activities
of the State.

The word ' political ' is one round which a high
degree of ambiguity has gathered. It has very
various associations, with the IIoXk, or City-State,
of the Greeks, with the modern Nation-State, with
the whole complex of social action, with purely
party and parliamentary activities, and so forth.
Here I am using the word in a definite and specific
sense. I mean by political activities those activities
which are concerned with the social regulation of
those personal relationships which arise directly out
of the fact that men live together in communities,
and which are susceptible to direct social organisa-
tion.^

In this, as in many other cases, it is easier and
perhaps more illuminating, to illustrate than to
define. What, we must ask, are the main types of
actual political activity exercised by the State ?
1 See ante, p. 67, for political association.

86

THE STATE

Marriage is at once a civil and a religioxxs institu-
tion. The State regulates the relations between
individuals by enacting laws dealing with iharriage
and its dissolution, the care of children, the conduct
arising out of sexual relationships in all their forms.
It makes laws for the prevention and punishment of
crime, for the care and treatment of lunatics, the
feeble-minded and others who are not in a position
to look after themselves. It is vitally concerned
with many relationships quite apart from sex crime
or abnormality, and constantly lays down rules of
convenience and convention for the guidance of men
in their mutual relationships. If it covers any
considerable area or includes any large number of
inhabitants, it must recognise or establish local
authorities similar to itself but with more limited
powers, and makes general rules for the guidance of
these bodies in their various activities. In fact, it
is concerned mainly with personal rights and the
means of reconciling them, and with those limita-
tions of personal conduct which are essential to the
existence of a co-ordinated S57stenl of personal
rights.

Where classes exist in the community, the State
often exercises further political activity in sus-
taining, recognising, and modif5dng class privileges
and class exclusions. It creates, say, a peerage, and
from time to time elevates the latest exalted servant
of the public, or newspaper proprietor, or nouveau
riche, to membership of the peerage. It enacts
special privileges for one class or another, or passes
special legislature discriminating against a class.
In the extreme case, its political activity assumes

87

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the form of a class dictatorship. This is the bad
side of the State's political activity.

Thirdly, the State of to-day possesses increasingly
important activities of co-ordination. It is largdy
concerned in adjusting the relations between asso-
ciation and association, or institution and institution,
or institution and association, or between other
associations or institutions and itself. It enacts
laws regulating the form and scope of associative
activity, friendly society law, law afEecting banks,
companies, partnerships. Trade Unions, clubs,
associations of any and every sort. In some degree,
it regulates aU rdigious associations, and, in some
countries, the existence of an Established Chttrch
considerably increases the extent of its reUgious
intervention. There is one theory, of the State
which regards it as primarily a co-ordinating body,
devoted not to any specific functions of its own,
but to the co-ordinating of the various functional
associations within Society.^

I do not claim that this summary of the activities
of States is exhaustive or inclusive, nor do I desire
to make it so. It can, with one further development,
be made sufficient for our purpose. I have so far
dealt almost entirely with the internal activities of
'the State,' and ignored its external relations,
whether with other States, or with anything wholly
or partly outside its geographical boimdaries. I
have done this becaiise ' international ' or external
activity cannot be regarded as a particular province
of State activity, in the same sense as economic,

^ This view has been often expressed in the columns of the
New Age, over the signature ' National Guildsmen.'

88

THE STATE

political and co-ordinating activities. International
action arises in relation to each of these provinces of
State activity, and has, besides, special problems of
its own. Thus the State takes external economic
action in the development of foreign trade, external
political action in connexion, say, with international
provisions regarding crime, marriage, naturalisation,
and other questions of personal status and con-
venience which involve a measure of activity
transcending State boundaries. In its activity of
co-ordination, it is confronted with the problem of
international association, from the Roman Catholic
Church to the SociaUst International.

ITiese forms of external State action may either
lead to quarrels and disagreements between States,
or thesy may bind States together and lead towards
a sort of super-State, or at least Society or League
of States bound together for the performance of
specific functions or the exercise of specific activities.
Hitherto, the~ external actions of States have been
far more fertile in disagreement than in organised
co-operation ; but it does not foUow that this will
always be the case. Indeed, a proper understanding
and adjustment of the internal functions of the
State will be Ukely to exercise a profound and bene-
ficent action upon its relations with other States,
and to set it upon the road of organised international
co-operation which other forms of association are
more forward in following than the State has been
in the past.

A full discussion of the external aspects of State
action, however, would be foreign to our present
purpose, which is in the main that of disentangling

89

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the true functions of the State from the network of
its present activities. By what test can we so test
these activities as to make the real nature and
function of the State stand out from among them
clear and well-defined ? The first step in appljdng
our test must be to investigate the State from a
different point of view, to regard it in the light, not
of its activities, but of its structure and composition.
We may then hope, by bringing its activities into
relation to its structure, to discover its function in
the complex of organised Society.

How, then, is the State composed ? And what
is its structural principle ? These are not easy
questions to answer, because any attempt to answer
them. is likely to open at once large controversial
questions. Moreover, the structure of different
States, or of the same State at different times,
appears to be essentially different. What is there
in common between the structure of a pure des-
potism, in which a monarch is supposed to possess
absolute and unlimited power, and a State in which
all power rests, at any rate in theory, upon the
consent and active co-operation of the whole body
of the people ?

It must be noted that the activities of a
' despotic ' and of a ' democratic ' State may be
identical, while their structural principles seem
to be vitally different. But are their structural
principles as fundamentally different as they seem ?
Every despotism which seeks at all to justify its
existence seeks to do so on one or another of three
pnnciples. Either it claims to be based upon
' divine right and appointment ' of the ruler, or it

90

THE STATE

claims to be acting in the interests of the ruled, and
therefore in conformity with their real wiU, or it
claims to be based upon the actual consent of the
ruled, tacit or expressed. With despotisms which
do not seek to justify their existence we are not
concerned, since in them it is manifest that social
obligation, on which the possibiUty of a coherent
Society depends, is not present.

We are left, then, with three possible justifica-
tions of despotism, and it must be admitted that
all three finally reduce themselves to a common
form — ^the consent, in one form or another, of the
ruled. This is clear in the third form of the theory
of despotism, which is based on actual consent.
In the second form, the consent is not actual, but
unless it is real the justification fails. It depends
upon the metaphysical conception of the ' real
will,' different from the actual will and willing
always the good. It claims, in fact, to be the
consent of the ' better selves ' of the ruled. The
third theory, that of divine right, seems at first
sight to have nothing to do with human consent ;
but if God has willed that a man shall be king, it
is clear that the ' better selves ' of all men have
wiUed this too, and that, if divine right is estab-
Kshed, universal consent ought to follow as a matter
of course.

Any attempt to justify a despotic State therefore
brings us back to the same principle as that on
which ' democratic ' States are usually justified—
the consent of the ruled. It is true that in a
despotism this consent cannot, unless the despotic
is elected, pass beyond acquiescence, whereas in

91

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

democracy consent may become, and in real demo-
cracy must become, active co-operation. Still,
a common ground of principle has been estab-
lished, and the State, whatever its form of power,
is seen to rest on the consent of those who are its
citizens, subjects, members or human constituents.

If once the principle of consent is established as
the basis of the State, it is impossible to set limits
to the operation of the principle. If the members
consent to despotism, well and good ; but as soon
as they desire to assume a more active co-operation
in the affairs of State, they have clearly a right to
do so. The fullest democracy in action is only the
logical development of the principle of consent,
expanded by the application of actual human wills
— ^that is, of the will to self-government. If this
is so, we can safely take the ' democratic State ' as
the developed form of ' the State,' and expect, in
laying bare its structure, to lay bare the structure
of States in general.

The only obstacle in the way of our immediately
adopting this course is the metaphysical doctrine
of the real ' will ' — a doctrine which we shaU
again and again encoimter as an influence obscuring
our attempt to study the character of social organisa-
tion. If the doctrine of a real will different from
anybody's actual will is accepted, all arguments for
democracy, that is government by the actual wills
of the ruled, go by the board. But so equally do
all arguments for everything else ; for we are left
without means of ascertaining the nature or content
of this real will. The content of actual wills we
can know up to a point : the content of the real

92

THE STATE

will we cannot know at all. We can only know
what we believe to be good, and thereupon, by a
quite gratuitous assumption, assume our con-
ception of the good to be the content of every-
body's real will. Or, if we are not quite sure our-
selves that we know all the good, we can stand
back astonished at the magnitude of the State and
its works, and say that anything so big must be
good. Many idealist social theorists have virtually
done this, and made of the doctrine of the real will,
in its application to social theory, no more than a
colossally fraudulent justification of ' things as
they are.' ^

I shall content myself with leaping rather lightly
over this metaphysical obstacle, referring my readers
to the book of Professor Hobhouse, and reserving
the matter for fuller treatment at a later stage. I
shall assume, then, that actual wills are real wills,
or at least near enough to reality to be going on
with, and I shall therefore assume that the basis
of the State's structure is to be found in the actual
consent of its members.

But here we encounter our first real difficulty.
Who are the members of the State, and, indeed, can
the State be said to have any members ? I am
using the word * members ' because it is the most
neutral word I can find. We usually speak of
' citizens ' or ' subjects ' ; but one of these words
has about it the implication of despotism and the
other that of the actual exercise of political rights.

'.For an excellent onslaught upon some such theories, see The
Metaphysical Theory of the State, by L. T. Hobhouse. For an
awful example of them, see the writings of Dr. Bernard Bosanquet.

93

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

I therefore avoid them for the present, because I
want to avoid equally for the present both these
impUcations.

The State, as an a'^sociation, has members, and
its members are all the persons ordinarily resident
within the area within which the State ordinarily
exercises authority. Such persons are members of
' the State, whether or not they have votes or other
pohtical privileges, by virtue merely of their
ordinary residence within the State area. For .the
State is, for the dwellers within its area, a com-
pulsory association, and its compulsory character
is revealed in two ways — ^in its power to compel
all persons in its area, and in the right of all such
persons to membership of it. When we say that
the State rests upon consent, we mean that it rests
upon the consent of an effective proportion of all
the dwellers within its area.

Membership of the State is, however, an almost
barren theory without recognised pohtical rights —
for without such rights a member can only make
his voice heard in time of revolution, when the
ordinary procedure of the State is in abeyance.
What right, we must ask, does membership of the
State give to the recognition of actual pohtical
rights ? The answer is partly imphed in what we
have said already of consent as the basis of the
State. The members of the State have the right to
trfinslate a passive consent into an active co-opera-
tion by the assumption of pohtical rights. This
they habitually do by gradually extending the
franchise and other pohtical rights to new sections
of the population, as these sections become articulate

94

THE STATE

in advancing their claim. The logical completion
of this development is universal suffrage as the
expression of a poUtical articulateness generally
diffused through all sections of the people.

I shall take, then, as the basis of examination of
the structure of the State, a State possessing the
institution of universal suffrage. What is the struc-
tural principle of such a State ? Regarded as a
whole, it is a compulsory association including all
the dwellers within a particular area. Its basis is
therefore territorial and inclusive, whereas the basis
of a Trade Union is vocational and selective. The
essence of the State is to include all sorts of people,
without reference to the sort of people they are,
the sort of beliefs they hold, or the sort of work
they do.

I do not mean, of course, that there is not usually
a very important element of identity of character,
way of life, and even occupation, among the members
of a particular State. This element of identity is
strongest in the City-State, and very strong in
the State whose area is the area of a Nation. But
it is not the essential principle of the State form
of grouping. There are States which are not coter-
minous with Nations, and State and Nation are
essentially different things. A Nation may be a
community, but it cannot be, though it may
possess, a State. A Nation is not an association ;
a State is.

The State, then, is an inclusive territorial asso-
ciation, ignoring differences between men and com-
pulsorily taking in every one who ordinarily dwells
within its area. This being its principle, how can we

95

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

discover its fiuiction ? The answer will be found
by asking and answering a further question.

Why does the State ignore the differences between
men and include all sorts and conditions, and what
is the sphere of action, or social function, marked
out for it by the adoption of this structure ? It
ignores the differences between men because it is
concerned not with their differences, but with their
identity, and its function and interest are concerned
with men's identity and not with their differences.
Objectively stated, this principle takes the following
form. The concern of the State, as an association
including all sorts and conditions of men, is with
those things which concern all sorts and conditions
of men, and concern them, broadly speaking, in the
same way, that is, in relation to their identity and
not to their points of difference.

The State exists primarily to deal with those
things which affect aU its members more or less
equally and in the same way. Let us try to see
clearly what are the effects of this principle. It
excludes from the primary functions of the State —
from its social function par excellence — ^those spheres
of social action which affect different members of
it in different degrees and in various ways. This
does not mean that the State must not concern
itself with any such spheres of action, but only that
they do not form part of its primary function, and
may fall within the functions of other forms of asso-
ciation. We are not concerned as yet so much with
limiting the province of the State as with discovering
what is its undisputed and peculiar sphere of
activity.

96

The state

Let us look back now to the point from which we
set out — ^to our brief account of the existing activities
of the State. Which of these activities clearly
correspond to the definition we have just given, and
are, by their correspondence, clearly marked out as
essential activities of the State. We divided the
actual activities of the State into three main divisions
— economic, political and co-ordinative. Let us first
look at each of these three divisions in general and
as a whole, proceeding to a further analysis of them
as we find it to be required.

Economic activities for the most part clearly affect
the various members of the community ^ in different
degrees and in various ways. For it is here that
one of the most easily recognisable and organisable
differences between man and man comes into play.
Coal mining affects the coal miner in quite a different
way from that in which it affects the rest of the
people, and so through the whole list of trades and
vocations. Of course, coal mining does affect not
only the miner, but also everybody else ; but the
point is that it affects the miner in a different
manner and degree.

Here, however, a difficulty at once arises. Each
trade or vocation affects those who follow it in a
different way and degree from the way and degree
in which it affects others ; but many vital industries
and services do also, from another point of view,
affect almost everybody in very much the same way.

• I use the terms ' members of the community ' and ' members
of the State ' indifEerently, assuming that the geographical area
of the community coincides with that of the State. The argu-
ment is not affected.

G 97

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

We must all eat and drink, be clothed, housed and
warmed, be tended in sickness and educated in
childhood and youth, and our common needs in
these and other respects give rise to a common
relation, that of consumers or users of the products
and service rendered by those who foUow the various
trades and vocations concerned.

It is upon the fact that the CoUectivist theory of
the State is based. The Collectivists, or State
Socialists, regard the State as an association of con-
sumers, and claim for it supremacy in the economic
sphere on the ground that consumption, at least in
relation to the vital industries and services, is a
matter that concerns everybody equally and in the
same way. This, however, is to ignore a difference
as vital as the identity on which stress is laid. The
most that can be claimed for the State in the
economic sphere on account of the identical interest
of all the members of the commtmity in consumption
is State control of consumption, and not State control
of production, in which the interests of different
members of the community are vitally different.

The economic sphere thus falls at once into two
separable parts — production and consumption, in
one of which all interests tend to be identical, while
in the other, production, they tend to be different.
Consumption is thus marked off as falling, prima
facie, within the sphere of the State, while produc-
tion is no less clearly marked off as falling
outside it.

We shall have to piirsue this question further at
a later stage, when we examine directly the economic
structure of Society. There is, however, one ques-

98

THE STATE

tion, arising immediately out of this distinction,
with which we must deal at the present stage. We
saw in our summary of State activities that taxation
tends to become, and to be regarded as, not merely
a means of raising revenue for public purposes, but
a means of redistributing the national income. May
not this tendency provide the key to the State's
function in relation to consumption ? If there is
one thing in the economic sphere which affects
everybody equally and in the same way it is the
question of income, on which the nominal amount of
consumption depends. Closely bound up with this
is the question of price, which, in its relation to
income, determines the real amount of consiimption.
Income and prices, then, seem to faU clearly within
the province of the State, and the determination of
them forms an integral part of the State's functions.
The State, then, regulates consumption primarily
through income and prices. By these means it acts
upon the general level and distribution of consump-
tion, and not directly upon the consumption of any
particular commodity. It is, however, clear that,
in the case of many staple commodities and vital
services, not only the general level of consuming
power, but also the consumption and supply of a
particular commodity or service, affects everybody
more or less equally and in the same way. Of course,
there are many other commodities whose consump-
tion affects only a part of the people, or affects
difierent sections in very unequal measure. In
such cases the State has no primary function.
Having regulated the general distribution of con-
suming power, it can leave to ad hoc bodies the

99

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

expression of the consumers' point of view in
relation to such commodities or services.

But in the case of the vital commodities and
services which, broadly speaking, affect everybody
equally and in the same way, there is a prima facie
argument for State regulation, and it is clear that
regulation must be done either by the State or by
some body or bodies reproducing its structure and
similarly based upon general suffrage and an
inclusive and non-selective electorate. The question
whether the State or some other body or bodies so
constituted should assume these functions depends
upon the degree in which the combined performance
of political functions and of these specialised
economic fvmctions can be undertaken with satis-
factory results by the same group of elected persons,
or whether it is necessary that the same body of
electors should choose different persons and repre-
sentative bodies for the performance of functions so
essentially different and calling for such different
capacities and acquirements.^

The political activities of the State give rise to
no such complex problems as its economic activities.
Here the only question that arises in most cases is
whether a particular sphere of personal relationship
ought to be regulated or left unregulated. If it
is to be regulated at all, it falls clearly according
to our principle within the proper sphere of the
State. For in personal relationship, whether

1 This point is more fully developed in Chapter VI., where it
is urged that if a person is chosen to ' represent ' a body of
electors, he can only be a real representative if his function is
clearly and spedficjilly limited and defined. See also Introduc-
tion to Self-Government in Industry (edition of 1919).

ioo

THE STATE

regulation is based on moral principles or on prin-
ciples of convenience, the regulation clearly affects,
or should affect,, and would but for class and economic
distinctions affect, every one equally and in the same
way. ' Pohtical ' activities, then, in the sense
which we have given to the phrase, belong clearly
to the function of the State.

What, then, of activities of co-ordination, such
as we described earlier in this chapter ? Here a
far greater difficulty arises. To entrust the State
with the function of co-ordination would be to
entrust it, in many cases, with the task of arbitrating
between itself and some other functional associa-
tion, say, a Church or a Trade Union. But just
as no man ought to be the judge of his own case, so
ought no association. Therefore, co-ordination
cannot belong to the function of the State ; but
neither can it belong to that of any other functional
association.

We should reach the same conclusion if we
ignored the argument against making the State
judge in its own cause, and attended only to
the nature of co-ordinating activities. For such
activities clearly bring in many questions which do
not affect everybody equally and in the same way,
but affect various groups in essential different ways.
Therefore, once more, we must conclude that the
fimction of co-ordination does not belong to the
State.

This is a conclusion of far-reaching and funda-
mental importance ; for if the State is not the
co-ordinating authority within the community,
neither is it, in the sense usually attached to the

loi

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

term, ' sovereign.' But the claim to ' Sovereignty '
is that on which the most exalted pretensions of the
State are based. Almost all modem theories of
the State attribute to it not merely a superiority
to all other forms of association, but an absolute
difference in kind, by virtue of which it is supposed
to possess, in theory at least, an unlimited authority
over every other association and over every
individual in the community.

If our account of the nature of the State is correct,
its functions must be newly defined and limited in
terms of its specific functions, and with this defini-
tion and limitation its claim to Sovereignty falls
utterly to the ground. We cannot, however, so
lightly destroy an almost universally held theoretical
position, and, in order to make perfectly plain our
reasons for den57ing it, we must at once embark on
a discussion of the closely related questions of
democracy and representation. We can then
return to our study of the State with a better hope
of making the argument perfectly clear.

102

CHAPTER VI
DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

THERE is in our own day an almost general
prejudice in favour of democracy. Almost
everybody is a ' democrat,' and the name
of democracy is invoked in support of the most
diverse social systems and theories. This general
acceptance of the name of democracy, even by
persons who are obviously not in any real sense
'democrats,' is perhaps largely to be explained
by the fact that the idea of democracy has become
almost inextricably tangled up with the idea of
representative government, or rather with a par-
ticular theory of representative government based
on a totally false theory of representation.

This false theory is "that one man can ' represent *
another or a number of others, and that his will
can be treated as the democratic expression of their
wills. Stated in this form, the theory admits of
only one answer. No man can represent another
man, and no man's will can be treated as a sub-
stitute for, or representative of, the wills of others.

This may look, at first sight, like a complete
denial of every form of representative government,
and an affirmation of the futility of all elections.

103

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

It is, however, nothing of the sort ; it is not an
attack upon, or an attempt to destroy the theoretic
basis of, representative government, but an attempt
to restate the theory of representation in a truer
form. In order that it may be fully understood,
we must bring it into relation to the doctrine of
function expounded in previous chapters. We
have seen that, just as every action of an individual
aims at some specific object, so men form and enter
associations in pursuit of specific objects which
can be best pursued in common by or through an
organised group. Every association, then, has a
specific object or objects, and it is in pursuit of some
or all of these objects that men consent to be
members of the association.

Every association which sets before itself any
object that is of more than the most rudimentary
simpHcity finds itself compelled to assign tasks and
duties, and with these powers and a share of
authority, to some of its members in order that the
common object may be effectively pursued, It
elects, perhaps, a Secretary, a President, a Treasurer
and an Executive Committee, and empowers these
persons to act on behalf of the association in certain
definite ways and within certain limits. In the
smaller and more localised associations, much of
the control of the proceedings of the association
may remain in the hands of the general body of the
members ; but as soon as it becomes too large or too
dispersed for a general meeting to transact business,
or if the members are too preoccupied with other
affairs to make it their constant concern, the detailed
regulation of its proceedings passes largely into the

104

DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

hands of a comparatively small number of its
members, officers, committee men, delegates or
representatives. In the largest and most complex
forms of association, such as the State, the ordinary
member is reduced to a mere voter, and all the
direction of actual affairs is done by representatives
— or misrepresentatives.

At the best, representative government gives rise
to many inconveniences, to what Walt Whitman
described as " the never-ending audacity of elected
persons," and Rousseau as " the tendency of all
government to deteriorate." With these inconveni-
ences we shall have to deal at a later stage ; but
here we are concerned only to make clear the nature
of the representative relation as it exists in such
associations as we have spoken of above.

In the majority of associations, the nature of the
relation is clear enough. The elected person —
official, committee man, or delegate — ^makes no
pretension of substituting his personality for those
of his constituents, or of representing them except
in relation to a quite narrow and clearly defined
purpose or group of purposes which the association
exists to fulfil. There is, then, in these cases, no
question of one man taking the place of many ;
for what the representative professes to represent
is not the whole will and personalities of his consti-
tuents, but merely so much of them as they have
put into the association, and as is concerned with the
purposes which the association exists to fulfil.

This is the character of all true representation.
It is impossible to represent human beings as selves
or centres of consciousness ; it is quite possible to

105

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

represent, though with an inevitable element of
distortion which must always be recognised, so
much of human beings as they th^emselves put into
associated effort for a specific purpose.

True representation, therefore, like true associa-
tion, is always specific and fimctional, and never
general and inclusive. What is represented is never
man, the individual, but always certain purposes
common to groups of individuals. That theory of
representative government which is based upon the
idea that individuals can be represented as wholes
is a false theory, and destruction of personal rights
and social well-being.

The fact that a man cannot be represented as a
man seems so obvious that it is difficult to under-
stand how many theories of government and demo-
cracy have come to be built upon it. Each man is
a centre of consciousness and reason, a will possessed
of the power of self-determination, an ultimate
reality. How can one such will be made to stand
in place of many ? How can one man, being him-
self, be at the same time a number of other people ?
It would be a miracle if he could ; but it is a
risky experiment to base our social S5retem upon a
hypothetical miracle.

Functional representation is open to no such
objection. It does not lay claim to any miraculous
quality : it does not profess to be able to substitute
the will of one man for the wills of many. Its
adherents recognise the element of distortion which
exists in aU representation ; but to them this dis-
tortion is not a problem, but an inevitable fact. It
does not annihilate or detract from the will of any

106

DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

individual ; it merely provides a basis whereby,
when the individual has made up his mind that a
certain object is desirable, he can co-operate with
his fellows in taking the course of action necessary
for its attainment.

Of course, I do not intend to convey the idea that
there are just so many functions in Society, and that
to each corresponds exactly its own functional
association and form of representation. The need
of Society for functional association and representa-
tion expands and develops as Society becomes
larger and more complex. A special form of asso-
ciation and representation, at one time unnecessary,
may become necessary as the work of Society in-
creases in a particular direction. Moreover, in a
very smaU Society, such as the ancient City-State,
where the direct participation of the mass of the
people in government was possible, functional
association was only needed in a very limited degree,
and it was often possible for the people to choose
directly their functional representatives without any
intervening stage of functional association. The
principle of representation, however, is the same ;
the representative represents not persons, but definite
and particular purposes common to a number of
persons.

Having made plain our conception of the true
nature of representation, we can now look more
closely at its consequences. In proportion as the
purposes for which the representative is chosen lose
clarity and definiteness, representation passes into
misrepresentation, and the representative character
of the acts resulting from association disappears.

107

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

TTius, misrepresentation is seen at its worst to-day
in that professedly omnicompetent ' representative '
body — Parliament — and in the Cabinet which is sup-
posed to depend upon it. Parliament professes to
represent aU the citizens in all things, and therefore
as a rule represents none of them in an3i;hing. It
is chosen to deal with anything that may turn up,
quite irrespective of the fact that the different things
that do turn up i-equire different types of persons
to deal with them. It is therefore peculiarly subject
to corrupt, and especially to plutocratic, influences,
and does ever3i;hing badly, because it is not chosen
to do any definite thing well. This is not the fault
of the actual Members of Parliament ; they muddle
because they are set the impossible task of being
good at everjrthing, and representing everybody in
relation to every purpose.

There can be only one escape from the futility of
our present methods of parliamentary government ;
and that is to find an association and method of
representation for each function, and a function
for each association and body of representatives. In .
other words, real democracy is to be found, not in
a single omnicompetent representative assembly,
but in a system of co-ordinated functional represen-
tative bodies.

There is another, and a simpler, line of argument
which leads straight to the sarrie conclusion as we
have already reached. It is obvious that different
people are interested in, and good at doing, different
things. It is therefore equally obvious that, if I am
a sensible person, I shall desire to choose different
people to represent my wishes in relation to different

io8

DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

things. To ask me to choose one man to represent
me in relation to everything is to insult my intelli-
gence, and to offer me every inducement to choose
some one so colourless that he is unlikely to do
anything at all — ^because he will at least probably
do no great harm, and no great notice wiU be taken
of him. This is how parliamentary elections
usually work out at the present time.

But, if I am asked to choose a different person to
represent my wishes in relation to each of the main
groups of social purposes of which I am conscious,
I shall do my best to choose in each case the man who
is most fitted to represent my views and to carry
them into effect. In short, the one method will
inevitably result in government by the incompetent ;
the other wiU at least give every chance for competent
representatives to be chosen.

Democracy, then, must be conceived in the first
place as a co-ordinated system of functional repre-
sentation. But, as soon as we introduce the word
' democracy,' we raise a further question, that of
the relation between me and my functional repre-
sentative after I have chosen him. In fact, we find
ourselves in the thick of the old controversy of
■ representative versus delegate.'

Does our revised theory of representation throw
any light upon this controversy? Or, in other
words, is the question whether the elected person,
once he has been elected, should follow his own will
or should be instructed as far as possible on every
issue by those who have chosen him, to be answered
in a different way when the theory of representation
is different ? I think the theory of representation

109

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

which we adopt must make a considerable difference
to our view of the relation of the elected person to
his constituents.

In the first place, attempts to make the elected
person a mere delegate must always break down,
whatever the form of representation. There are
many issues on which it is not merely undesirable,
but impossible, to tie down a delegate by instructions,
because unforeseen situations and complications
constantly arise. If for no other reason, pure
delegation must break down because the delegate is
so often waiting for further instructions that
nothing gets done, and the best opportunities for
action are continually being missed. On the other
liand, pure ' representation ' without instructions
or counsel from the electors approaches very nearly
to false representation, substituting, even within a
restricted sphere, the will of one for the wills of
many.

Our functional democracy, based on functional
associations and representations, provides a way out
of this difficulty. It enables us to combine repre-
sentation with constant counsel from the con-
stituents, and thus makes it possible to abandon
the theory of delegation without imperilling
democratic control. The chief difficulty of demo-
cratic control over the representative in the political
sphere to-day is that, as soon as the voters have
exercised their votes, their existence as a group
lapses until the time when a new election is re-
quired. No body or group remains in being to
direct upon the elected person a constant stream of
counsel and criticism. Consequently, the elected

no

DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

person must either receive full instructions at the
time of election, which produces an intolerable
situation as soon as there is any change in the circum-
stances, or else he must become a pure represen-
tative, acting on his own responsibiUty and con-
sequently expressing only his own wiU and not those
of his constituents. This dilemma exists wherever
the body of electors does not remain in being and
activity as a body throughout the tenure of of&ce of
the elected person.

Functional democracy, in which representatives
emanate from functional associations which have a
permanent being, meets this difficulty. It is no
longer necessary for the group to instruct its repre-
sentative, because it can continue throughout his
time of office to criticise and advise him, and because,
I would add, it can at any time recall him if it is not
satisfied with the way in which he is doing his job.
Recall is, in fact, the final safeguard, while criticism
and advice are the normal means of keeping the
representation democratic.

In our own day, experience of bad leaders, both in
the State and in other forms of association, has bred
an almost general distrust of leadership, and a strong
desire, especially on the so-called ' left wing,' to do
away with leaders, and substitute direct control by
the ' rank and fUe ' through delegates duly in-
structed how to act and vote. But there is no
reason to take the badness of present-day leaders
as a sign that the whole idea of leadership should be
given up. Certainly, before we adopt any such
drastic expedient, all the circumstances ought to
be fully explored. But, at the very beginning of

HI

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

this explanation, the biggest single cause of the
collapse of leadership is plainly to be seen. The
absence of any true principle of representation in
the sphere of the State, the failure that is to ' func-
tionalise ' the State, and to make the political
representative a functional representative, is the
main cause of the perversion of political leadership.
But the perversion of poMtical leadership is, in its
turn, the main cause of the perversion of leadership
elsewhere. The Trade Union leader, and many
other ' functional ' leaders, have their eyes fixed
upon ParHament, and the thought of Parliament
distracts them from their proper work. Moreover,
this parliamentary arriire-pensSe is an important
factor in causing the wrong leaders to be selected,
and the wrong candidates to offer themselves for
selection.

We must preserve leadership without sacrificing
democratic control. Leadership is as vital to a demo-
cracy as to an aristocracy or a monarchy. And it
is as true in a democracy as anywhere else that
the good leader must be given a great deal of
rope.

In a functional democracy, where the elected
person is a representative and not a delegate, and
where he acts not as a rule upon instructions, but
upon criticism and advice, I believe that the good
leader will find ample scope, as soon as the distrust
which is bom of false democracy has had time to
wear off. It is true that he wiU be Uable to summary
recall ; but who beheves that, after the initial
mistakes, this power would be too freely exercised ?
The risks are all the other way : it is of a too long

112

DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

tenure of office by second-rate men that we should be
afraid. Functional democracy will give the good
leader his first real chance of leading by his merits,
with an instructed and active body of constituents
behind him. For it must be remembered that not
only will* the representative be chosen to do a job
about which he knows something, but he will be
chosen by persons who know something of it too.
Truly a revolutionary proposal for a democrat to
make !

But some one will object, if I have this respect for
leaders why do I insist on the right of recall ? I do
so, because I have even more respect for human
wills and personalities, and because I feel that
democracy implies far more than the passive consent
of the mass of the people in government. Demo-
cracy implies active, and not merely passive,
citizenship, and implies for everybody at least the
opportunity to be an active citizen, not only of the
State, but of every association with which his
personality or circumstances cause him to be
concerned.

Those who profess to find the bond of Society in
the passive consent of the mass of the people fall
between two stools. If the mass of the people are
necessary to the justification of the social order, they
are necessary in the active and not in the passive
mood. In other words, if we base our social theory
upon the attitude of the mass of the people, we are
logically driven to insist that this attitude ought to
be as expHcit and positive as possible.

A well-organisea Society is one in which not
merely is the administration good, but the wills of
H 113

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the members of the community are active, and find
expresssion through the various associations and
institutions of which Society is made up. It should
be the aim of those who strive to direct the comse
of social organisation to promote the fullest partici-
pation of everybody in the work of government.
This alone is true democracy, and this can only be
secured by the fullest development of functional
organisation. The current theory of representative
government is a denial of this principle ; for, having
chosen his representative, the ordinary man has,
according to that theory, nothing left to do except to
let other people govern him. Functional organisa-
tion and representation, on the other hand, imply
the constant participation of the ordinary man in the
conduct of those parts of the structure of Society
with which he is directly concerned, and which he
has therefore the best chance of understanding. A
man may be pardoned for not quite knowing for
whom to vote in a parliamentary election, or how to
appraise the career of his Member of Parliament,
because the Member of ParUament of to-day is
elected not for any clearly defined purpose, but in
the void, to deal with an5rthing that may chance to
turn up. A functional association, on the other
hand, is concerned with doing a definite job, and its
officers are also concerned with getting that definite
job done. The member is connected with the
association because its business is his business, and
he is therefore able far more intelligently to initiate
and criticise action in relation to it than in relation
to an omnium gatherum miscalled ' poUtics.'
Functional organisation gives every one the chance

114

DEMOCRACY AND REPRESENTATION

of being, in the measure of his competence and
interest, an active citizen.

This does not mean that, in a functional demo-
cracy, each person will count for one and no person
for more than one. That is the cant of false demo-
cracy. The essence of functional democracy is that
a man should count as many times over as there are
fimctions in which he is interested. To count once
is to cotmt about nothing in particular : what men
want is to count on the particular issues in which
they are interested. Instead of ' One man, one
vote,' we must say ' One man as many votes as
interests, but only one vote in relation to each
interest.'

This restatement of a democratic principle still
leaves intact the equal voting power of unequal
persons voting on a particular issue. That, too, is
democracy, not because equalisation of votes can
make unequal persons equal, but because the right
way for the better man to ' pull his weight ' is not
by casting more votes himself, but by influencing
others to vote aright. Democracy involves leader-
ship by influence.

Before we end this chapter, we must face a very
foolish, but very often urged, objection to the whole
idea of fimctional representation. Fimctional re-
presentation, we are told, is impossible because,
in order to make it work, everybody will have
to vote so many times over. I fail to see
where the objection arises. If a man is not in-
terested enough to vote, and cannot be roused
to interest enough to make him vote, on, say, a
dozen distinct subjects, he waives his right to vote,

"5

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

and the result is no less democratic than if he voted
blindly and without interest. It is true that the
result is not so democratic as it would be if everybody
voted with interest and knowledge, but it is far more
democratic than it would be if everybody voted
without interest or knowledge, as they tend to do in
parliamentary elections. Many and keen voters are
best of all ; but few and keen voters are next best.
A vast and uninstructed electorate voting on a
general and undefined issue is the worst of all. Yet
that is what we call democracy to-day.

ii6

CHAPTER VII
GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION

WE have seen that, as soon as any associa-
tion passes beyond the doing of the most
simple and elementary acts, it becomes
necessary for it to have representatives — ^persons
endowed with the right, within certain Umits, to
speak and act in the name of the association, to
deliberate on its behalf, and to take the steps
necessary for carrjdng out its decisions. The char-
acter and complexity of the representative methods
adopted varies both with the size and geographical
dispersion of the association, and with the com-
plexity of the functions which it exists to perform.
Thus, as long as it is possible for all the members
to meet together and discuss each issue of policy
as it arises, representatives, where they are required,
will be unUkely to acquire any very great power,
and will be mainly engaged in doing the routine
work necessary to carry out the decisions of the
general meeting. This is the position to-day in
those parishes which are governed by a Parish
Meeting, or in a small local Trade Union or other
association.
At this stage, it will be seen, there may be rudi-
117

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

mentary officials, permanent or occasional, corre-
sponding to the fully developed executive officers
of more advanced forms of association : there may
be a committee, permanent or occasional, and also
of an executive character. But there is as yet no
representative legislative assembly, no body of
men selected from the association, and legislating
or lajdng down the main lines of policy in the name
of all the members. This is a further development,
which arises when it becomes impossible or incon-
venient for all the members to meet and deliberate
together. It is at this stage that the real problem
of government arises, and the association creates
for itself a representative assembly, entrusted with
the task of legislation.

This does not mean that the final decision on
questions of policy passes altogether and neces-
sarily away from the whole body of the members.
There remain two ways in which the whole of the
members may still keep important decisions in their
own hands. They may choose to act through dele-
gates rather than representatives, and, although
they cannot all meet together, the local members
may hold meetings in a number of centres to
instruct their delegate, or, in the alternative, to
advise their representative, how to vote. Or they
may adopt the institution of the referendum, and
insist that important issues shall be submitted to a
ballot vote of all the members.

Both these expedients, however, are extremely
clumsy, when it is attempted to apply them to any
but the broadest and simplest issues. For, in either
case, every question has to be reduced to a simple

Ii8

GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION

Aye or No, and the possibility of adjustments,
amendments and new situations has to be left out
of account. The method of referendum or instruc-
tion is, I believe, the right method where the broadest
and simplest issues are concerned ; but it offers no
help in dealing with the more complex and detailed
issues which are constantly arising in almost every
association.

Men are driven, therefore, to the expedient of
the representative ^ legislative assembly for getting
the ordinary day-to-day work of the more complex
associations efficiently accomplished. In the less
complex associations, very often no separate
legislative assembly is created, but the Executive
Committee acts also as a legislature within the limits
which the purposes of the assembly require. The
more complex type of association, however, usually
creates a separate body for the task of legislation,
and calls this body together as required, the Execu-
tive Committee remaining in being to carry out its
decisions. In the most complex t3^es of associa-
tion, such as the State, the legislative assembly,
as weU as the Executive Committee, tends to
becomejpermanent and to remain in almost con-
tinuous session. Even Parliament, however, has
only very gradually developed this permanent and
continuous character. The early Parliaments were
occasional bodies.

The purpose of this chapter is to investigate more

' It is necessary to bear in mind, throughout this chapter,
the sense attached to the word ' representation.' It is always
functional representation alone that is to be regarded as true
representation.

119

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

closely than we have yet done the actual wajTS of
operation of representative bodies and persons,
in order to see how the will of the members finds
expression through their representatives, and also
how it is sometimes perverted and twisted in passing
through the representatives' intermediary. One
of the most illuminating chapters of Rousseau's
Social Contract * deals with the ' tendency of govern-
ment to deteriorate.' All action through repre-
sentatives, he explains, iiivolves to a certain extent
the substitution of the wills of the representatives
for those of the represented. Moreover, all groups of
men, by experience of acting together, tend to
develop in some degree a ' common wiU ' of their
own. Chosen to express the ' common will '
of those whom they represent, they- acquire a
' common will ' of their own different from that of
the represented.

We have given in the last chapter our reasons
for supposing that the definite limits and purposes
of functional representatives make these dangers
far less applicable to it than to so-called ' repre-
sentation ' which is general and not functional.
This, however, does not mean that, even with
functional representation, the danger altogether
disappears. It is, indeed, impossible that it should
ever disappear, unless as the result of a miracle
which would be also an overwhelming calamity.
For the possibility of Society is based on the fact
that, by acting together, men do as a rule develop
an increasing sense of community. This is the very
basis of Society ; but it has inevitably its bad, as

' Social Contract, bk. iii., chap. x.
120

GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION

well as its good, side. For it means that there is
a sense of community among thieves as well as
among honest men, and among members of com-
mittees and representative assemblies as well as
among members of groups and associations. It
means that, however faithfully the members of a
committee may try to fulfil their whole duty to their
members, an element of committee loyalty will
almost inevitably enter into their actions. They will
tend to back one another, whether they are right
or wrong, and, when one of them is in danger
of not being re-elected, the rest will often tend to
support him even if they are aware that he is
not the best man for the job. They will say one
to another : " After all, we can't let down old
Jones."

It is an easy and a highly popular pastime to gird
at this idiosyncrasy of elected persons. But it is
useless to abuse men for being clannish : we must
rather recognise that the tendency to clannishness
is the cement of the social system, and make up
our minds to adopt the proper treatment in dealing
with it. In the first place, we must always try
to make the position of the representative as clear
and definite as possible, clearly marking out his
powers and functions and sphere of action and
responsibility. And secondly, we must alwas^
try to provide as a background for the action of the
representative, an active and continuously resource-
ful organised body of constituents. It is, I believe,
the presence of this continuously active constituency
that gives to the Soviet system, despite its counter-
vailing disadvantages, its peculiar vitality. In

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AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

short, it is for the body of the members to counteract
the tendency to clannishness and even conspiracy
on the part of the elected persons by being clannish
and alert in pressing forward their own common
wills.

I have so far spoken of the tendency of bodies of
elected persons to substitute their own wills for the
wills which they are supposed to represent as if
it were a single and indivisible phenomenon. There
is, however, an important distinction not so much
in kind as in degree. There is the involimtary and
oftien quite unconscious perversion or substitution
which arises directly out of the fact that the
members of the representative body are con-
stantly acting and deliberating together ; and there
is also the conscious and voluntary perversion which
may easily develop out of the unconscious perversion
unless it is strongly checked by the presence of an
active electorate. Cabinet Government is probably
the worst instance of such dehberate and conscious
perversion, of which the Party Ss^stem is also an
awful, but illuminating, example.^ Any long con-
tinuance of this aggravated form of perversion proves
that there is something seriously wrong either with
the dectorate as a whole or with the form of repre-
sentation. Its constant presence in the poUtical
system of. almost every coimtry shows either that
the peoples of the world are fimdamentaUy corrupt
or foolish, or that the generally accepted theory
of representative government is radically wrong.

' See The Party System, by Hilaire Belloc and Cecil Chesterton,
and Democracy and the Organisation of Political Parties, by
Robert Michels.

132

GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION

Perversion, by the substitution of the will of the
elected person for the wills he has been chosen to
represent, is liable to occur in all types of repre-
sentative body, and in all representative officials.
We have therefore been able so far to treat repre-
sentative institutions together without distinguishing
for the niost part between the various types. The
next stage in oxa argument requires a more careful
and detailed examination of the types of repre-
sentative institutions with a view to ascertaining
their right relationship one to another and to the
represented. This brings us at once to a further
discussion of the relation between legislative and
executive power.

Many of the older writers on social science based
the greater part of their exposition of the forms of
social organisation upon the double distinction of
legislative and executive power, or upon the triple
distinction of legislature, executive and judiciary.
I have endeavoured elsewhere to show that the
distinction between legislature and executive pro-
vides no adequate basis for classifying the activities
of modem Societies.^ It may be possible to distin-
guish with clearness sufficient for all practical pur-
poses between the work of law-making and the work
of seeing to the execution of the laws (leaving aside
for the moment the judicial aspect) as long as the
social situations to be dealt with remain essentially
simple and free from technical complications. But
in the commimities of to-day law-making and law-

1 See Self-Government in Industry, chapter entitled ' The Nature
of the State.' The final section of the same chapter deals with
the judiciary.

133

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

administering inevitably run together. It is im-
possible to draft a law which will meet all the com-
plexities of the case, and consequently our Parlia-
ments and other legislative bodies are continually
passing laws, many of whose clauses virtually delegate
the power of legislation to the administrators, by
providing that such and such matters may be dealt
with by Order in Council or special order, or that
the Minister concerned may make Orders and Regu-
lations deaUng with such and such a matter — ^pro-
visions which effectively blur the already faint line
of division between legislation and administration.
' In some cases, the legislative body attempts to
retaliate and to establish a control over administra-
tion through parliamentary questions, interpellations,
adjournment motions, votes to reduce a salary or a
credit. Standing Committees, Select Comnoittees and
what not. The honours, however, under the
parliamentary system, rest as a rule with the
Executive, which steadily and successfully encroaches
upon the sphere of legislation.

Nor are these phenomena confined to Cabinets
and political assemblies. They appear also in other
forms of association. Trade Union Executives try
to seize the power of legislation out of the hands of
Delegate Meetings ; and Delegate Meetings retaliate
by encroaching upon the sphere of administration.
Wherever much detailed and compUcated business
has to be transacted, the line of demarcation between
legislature and executive tends to break down.

This breakdown has the more far-reaching con-
sequences for social theory. Great stress used to
be laid on the balance of powers between legis-

124

GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION

lature and executive as a safeguard against tyranny
and perversion. Whatever value this principle may
have had in the past, it has little or none to-day,
except as a minor safeguard within each particular
association. Those who seek a balance of power in
social organisation are therefore compelled to seek
for a new principle of division. The old theory was
an attempt to divide by stages — ^the law was first
enacted by the legislature — and it then passed on
to the succeeding stage of being administered by
the executive. If this method of division by stages
has broken down, there seems to be only one alter-
native open, if we desire to adhere to the principle
of balance in any form. That alternative is to divide
by function.

In earlier chapters of this book I have tried to
establish the pre-eminence of function as the primary
principle of social organisation. We have now to see
what are the consequences of the acceptance of this
principle in the sphere of government. Instead of a
division based on the stage which an associative act
has reached (the stage of law-making or the stage of
administration), it gives us a new principle of division
according, not to the stage, but to the content and
purpose of the act. In other words, the principle
of function implies that each functional form of
association has and is its own legislature and its
own executive.

This may seem either a very startUng or a very
commonplace proposition according to the manner
in which it is interpreted. It is commonplace, if it
only means that each association has to frame rules
or laws for its own guidance, and to administer the

125

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

rules or laws which it has made. It is startling, if
it means that the laws of other fimctional associations
have the same binding character and social status
as the laws of the State.

Nevertheless, it is the startling form of the pro-
position which more nearly expresses what I mean.
It flows as a necessary consequence from the denial
of State Sovereignty and omnicompetence, and the
affirmation of the functional character proper to the
State, as to other associations, that the State's
exclusive claim to the right of legislation goes by
the board. It retains, of course, its right to legislate
within its function ; but this right belongs zilso to
other associations in relation to their nimibers and
within their respective fimctions.

This does not mean that all forms of functional
legislation are equally important, anymore than all
forms of association are equally important. But it
does mean that, in the measure of their importance,
all forms of association acquire for their legislative
acts a comparable social status.

The full implications of this functional division
of legislation can only be made apparent at the end
of the four following chapters. I must, however,
at once try to meet, at least, provisionally, an
objection which is almost certainly present already
in the reader's mind. If the power of legislation is
divided, he will ask, does not this also imply the
division of coercive power ? Or, in other words, if
the State's exclusive right to legislate is challenged,
must not the State's exclusive right to use coercion
be challenged also ?

I answer unhesitatingly that it must, and that
126

GOVERNMENT AND LEGISLATION

the State's monopoly of coercive power disappears
with its loss of Sovereignty and of the monopoly of
legislation. But, before we deal finally with the
huge problem which is here raised, we must make
quite certain that we know what we mean by
coercion, and distinguish between various forms
and uses of coercive power.

127

CHAPTER VIII
COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

WE ended the last chapter with what was
virtually an interrogation. What is the
nature of coercive power in the community,
and how, and in what forms, is it exercised ?

Every association, by the mere fact of its ex-
istence, is endowed with some coercive power, and
actually exercises some such power in the course of
pursuing its object. This coercive power is not
necessarily recognised by the community, and the
courts of law sometimes disallow particular exercises
of it by voluntary associations. Nevertheless it
exists, and is freely exercised every day. Very many
associations claim the right to fine their members
for breach of the rules, and nearly all claim the final
right of expelling a member who offends against
the etiquette or rules of the association, or even
who, in the opinion of the members, acts contrary
to the interests of the association. Trade Unions
and many other kinds of association constantly fine
and often expel members, and it is very seldom that
their right to do so is challenged by the courts in
some particular case. Indeed, often the law of the
State, so far from disallowing such associational

128

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

coercion, backs it up and gives it legal sanction, or
at least acquiesces in its decisions. This is especially
the case in the ' self-governing ' professions, where
the benchers of the Temple, or the Law Society, or
the General Medical Council, freely use coercive
power with the approval and sanction of the State.
Thus, we can find ample instances of coercion by
associations other than the State without inviting
that great coercionist, spiritual and temporal, the
Church.

There is, however, a distinction between three
kinds of coercion which it is important to recognise
at the outset. There is one kind of coercion which
only affects a man's piurse or property, that is coercion
by fine. This is freely employed, not only by the
State, but by most important types of association.
There is a second kind of coercion which affects a
man's freedom of action by limiting directly his
range of opportunity and self-expression, as, for
instance, by disfranchising him or forbidding him to
work in a particular factory or occupation. The first
is employed by the State and also by other forms of
association ; the second occurs when the members
of a Trade Union refuse to work with a non-Unionist,
or expel a man from the Union and then refuse to
work with him, or when an employers' association
' blacklists ' a man, and so prevents him from getting
a job. ' Sending to Coventry ' is a less organised
example of this kind of coercion.

The third form of coercion is that which directly
affects a man's body, by limiting his right of move-
ment, interning him, imprisoning him, or, in the
last resort, hanging him, or shooting him, or cutting
I 129

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

off his head. In civilised countries and in modern
times these forms of diversion are usually, at least
in the case of adults, the monopoly of the State.
Civilisation, however, is often ready to resort to them
-without calling in the State in its dealings with what
are politely called " non-adult " races, and also, in a
less degree, in the case of children. The persistence
of ' lynch law ' in some paits of the ' civilised '
world is an exception.

How are these forms of coercion related to the
functional theory of Society which is propounded
in this book ? "Where, in other words, in a func-
tionally organised Society, would the power of
coercion in its various forms reside ?

It is clearly useless to deny all coercive power to
any association which we are prepared to recognise
at all as legitimate ; for whether we recognise the
right to coercion or not, the power will remain and
win be used. The most that is possible is to limit
the forms of coercion which may be used by any
particular functional association, and to reserve
the right to the more stringent forms of coercion in
the hands of that body which is most fit to exercise
it. It is futile to endeavour to prevent an associa-
tion which is allowed to make rules, and must make
rules if it is to get its work done at all, from using
some means to enforce their observance. Even if
an association is deprived of the means of coercing
its members directly, it will find indirect means of
coercing them by placing obstacles in their way or
withholding opportunities from them. Moreover,
it is impossible altogether to prevent an association
which exists to secure a particular object from

130

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

coercing to a certain extent persons not its members
who refuse to join it and pursue a contrary object
or the same object in a different way. Here, again,
the range and forms of coercion can be limited,
but the possibility of coercion cannot be altogether
abolished.

In a functionally organised Society, it seems
reasonable to suppose that each functional associa-
tion will employ directly the minor forms of coercion
in relation to its own members, acting within strictly
limited powers, and without the right to interfere
with life or liberty of person. This, however, only
drives us back upon a further question. What
body in a fimctionally organised Society will define
the limits within which coercion may be employed by
the various associations, and itself exercise directly
the major forms of coercion, if and when they are
required ?

It is not difficult to recognise that this question
brings us back to the very point at which we broke
off in our discussion of tlxe State.^ We were there
confronted with the question of the body which
would, in a functional Society, exercise the powers
of co-ordination at present claimed by the ' Sovereign
State.' But clearly co-ordination and coercion go
hand in hand.

We are now in a position to restate more clearly
and fully the reasons which make it impossible to
recognise the task of co-ordination as faUing within
the true function of the State. The claim on the
State's behalf is usually based on the assumption
that the State, because it represents and includes
1 See Chapter V.

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

everybody within its area, is necessarily superior to
other associations which only include some of the
persons within its area.^ But in what sense does the
State represent and include everybody ? If our
functional theory of representation is right, it may
include everybody, but it does not include the whole
of everybody ; it may represent some purposes
common to everybody, but it does not represent all
the purposes common to everybody. This being so,
it can no longer lay claim to Sovereignty on the
ground that it represents and includes everybody ;
for the Sovereign, if there is one, must represent
and include, as far as possible, the wholer of
everybody.

This it is impossible for any single association
to-day, and indeed impossible for any complex of
associations, to do completely. For there are vast
tracts of life which are simply not susceptible to
social organisation, and the purposes which they
include are therefore not capable of being represented
at all. This is, however, only a statement in other
words of a fact which we have already recognised
that, as the State is not co-extensive with organised
Society, so Society is not co-extensive with com-
munity.

The principle of co-ordination which we are
seeking cannot therefore be a principle co-ordinating
aU life within a given area, but only that part of life
which is social and susceptible to social organisation.
But it must co-ordinate the whole of that organisable
social life. It cannot therefore be found in any

' The fact that they may also include persons outside the
State's area is usually ignored.

132

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

one of the various forms of association which we
have described ; for to each of these forms all the
others are external, and no one of them could act
as a co-ordinating agency either between the others
or between itself and the rest. We are therefore
reduced to the conclusion that no one among the
many forms of functional association can be the
co-ordinating body of which we are in search.

A dim perception of this difficulty has led social
theorists into a variety of expedients. Some have
maintained, like Rousseau, that Sovereignty resides
inalienably in the whole body of the people and is
incapable of being conferred upon any form of
organisation at all. But such a view inevitably
encounters the difficulty that, although the Sover-
eignty of the people is affirmed, no means can be
found of making it actual, and all the important
exercises of it pass into the hands of governing
bodies which thus become virtually sovereign, even
while their Sovereignty is being denied.^

Where this difficulty is recognised as being
insuperable, at least in any large Society, the attempt
is sometimes made to preserve popular Sovereignty
by the constant use of the referendum. But a mere
' Yes or No ' vote, without the possibility of
discussion or amendment, reduces popular Sover-
eignty to a farce except on the broadest issues, and
once more the real power passes to the Government,
or to whoever draws up the ballot papers and so
decides the form of the question to be submitted.
None of these mechanical expedients really gets over

1 See my Introduction to Rousseau's Social Contract {Everyman
edition), p. xxvi.

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the difficulty. The referendum may be the best
way of dealing with certain simple issues ; but by
itself it certainly does not maintain popular Sover-
eignty ; nor does the addition of the initiative to
it make any substantial difference.

If neither any single functional association nor the
people itself can be the normal co-ordinating agency
in a functionally organised Society, only one possi-
bility remains. The co-ordinating body must be
not any single association, but a combination of
associations, a federal body in which some or all
of the various fimctional associations are linked
together.

It wiU be remembered that, in the chapter on
" The Forms and Motives of Association," some
attempt was made to discriminate between essential
and non-essential forms of association. It was
recognised that any such discrimination could be
only approximate, because even the "essential forms
would tend to vary in different times and places.
We did, however, succeed in establishing a working
principle of discrimination. " The key to essen-
tiality," we saw, " is the performance of some func-
tion which is vital to the coherent working of
Society, and without which Society would be lop-
sided or incomplete." We saw there that, apart
from religious association, which we reserved for
special treatment, there are at least three forms of
association which are to be regarded as generally
essential. These are political association and the
two forms of ' economic ' association or rather of
association centring round the giving and receiving
of services, that is to say, vocational and appetitive

134

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

association. 1 We saw also that the essentiality of
these forms of association in general does not suffice
to establish the essentiality of any particular
association belonging to one of these forms, unless
two further conditions are satisfied. The motive
which binds men together in the association must
be a truly ' associative ' motive,^ and the content
or function of the particular association, and not
merely of its form, must be important enough to
warrant its being regarded as ' essential ' in accord-
ance with the criterion stated above.

I do not propose to push further in this book the
analysis of the essential forms and instances of
association. To determine what actual associations
are to be regarded as essential at a particular time
and for a particular Society is a practical question,
and is therefore aHen to a work dealing with Social
Theory.' Here we are concerned only with the
general question — ^with the attempt to discover the
principle of co-ordination in a functionally organised
Society.

This principle has already been made inferentially
clear. The co-ordinating agency can only be a
combination, not of all associations, but of all
essential associations, a Joint Council or Congress of
the supreme bodies representing each of the main
functions in Society. Each functional association
will see to the execution of its own fiinction, and for
the co-ordination of the activities of the various

1 See Chapter IV., pp. 63 fE.

^ For the definition of ' associative ' motive, see pp. 34 ff.

» For a discussion on this point, see my Self-Government in
Industry, especially the chapter on the State and the introductory
chapter prefixed to the edition of 19 19'

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

associations there must be a joint body represen-
tative of them.

Here a serious objection will almost certainly be
encountered. Is not this, it will be asked, merely a
very roundabout way of proposing a change in the
method of electing the representatives who form the
State ? It has often been proposed that the prin-
ciple of vocational electorates should be partially
recognised and incorporated in the constitution side
by side with the geographical principle — that, for
example, the House of Lords should be replaced by a
vocational Second Chamber. It will be suggested
that, after all our blare of tnunpets, this is what our
' great change ' comes to in the end.

This is not so. There are two absolutely vital
differences between the theory which I have been
putting forward and the proposal to establish a
vocational Second Chamber.

In the first place, the assumption of the ' Voca-
tional Chamber ' theory is that all forms of legis-
lation, no matter what their content, continue to be
dealt with by both Chambers and initiated in either.
Functional organisation, on the other hand, is ex-
plicitly designed to enable each functional body to
deal with those matters which belong to its fimction,
without interference in its normal operations from
any outside body. Thus, purely political questions
belong exclusively to the sphere of the State, purely
vocational questions to the sphere of vocational
association. It is only when a question affects more
than one form of association, that is, affects men in
more than one capacity or function, that it is neces-
sary to appeal beyond the pmrely functional body to

136

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

some body on which the various functions are repre-
sented. The whole basis of functional organisation
is designed to enable each functional body to get on
with its own job — the job which the members know
how to do, and by virtue of their common interest
in which they have become associated.

Secondly, the co-ordinating or ' joint ' body
which I have in mind is less an admim'strative or
legislative body, though it cannot help partaking in
some degree of both these characters, *han a court of
appeal. It does not in the normal case initiate ; it
decides. It is not so much a legislature as a con-
stitutional judiciary, or democratic Supreme Court
of Functional Equity.

If this is clear, we can return to the question from
which we were led into this discussion. Coercion
and co-ordination, we said, go hand in hand. If the
supreme power of co-ordination rests in the hands
of this ' joint ' body compounded from the essential
functional associations, it seems clear that the
supreme power of coercion must rest in the same
hands. This involves that the judiciary and the
whole paraphernalia of law and police must be under
the control of the co-ordinating body.

We saw in the last chapter that the fimctional
organisation of Society necessarily involves the
division of power of legislation, as well as of admini-
stration, along functional Hues. It does not,
however, involve a similar division of the judiciary.
This question, it wiU be remembered, we reserved for
further treatment, our reason being that it coidd
not be dealt with imtil we came to discuss the
questions of co-ordination and coercion.

137

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

The sole possession of a high degree of coercive
power, and especially of coercive power of the third
kind, which directly affects a man's body, by any
single form of functional association, would clearly
upset the social balance at which we are aiming,
and place the ultimate social power in the hands of
that form of association. On the other hand, its
possession in an equal degree by each of the essential
forms of association would be not only, to say the
least of it, inconvenient, and an invitation to the
sort of cat-and-dog fight which went on between
Church and State in the Middle Ages, but also a
denial of the relation of men to associations which
is postulated as fundamental in this study. We
have seen that a man is a member of an association,
not with his whole personality, but with that part
of it which he puts into the association in pursuance
of the common object which is its function. This
being so, the association has at the most no right to
coerce the individual in his whole personality, but
only in that part of it which he has put into the
association. The right to the higher forms of coer-
cion cannot, then, reside either in any one association
or in all such associations. It must, however, be
in the hands of a single body, if only for reasons of
convenience ; and this body can therefore only be
the co-ordinating body which i^ a synthesis of the
various essential forms of association.

Even so, there is a strict limit to the coercive
power to which even the co-ordinating body is
entitled. For, as we have seen, the individual puts
into Society, that is into social organisation, not
his whole personality, but only those parts of it

138

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

which can find expression through social organisa-
tion. The coercive right of Society as a whole is
therefore limited, and there remains a sphere un-
touched by social organisation in which the indi-
vidual retaihs his freedom from coercion.^ It follows
that Society has no right to put any man to death ;
for death involves a total cessation of personality —
on this earth, at any rate.

Even with this safeguard, I rather suspect that
many readers have been regarding what has been
said in this chapter with a good deal of suspicion
and dislike. So much talk about coercion, they
will say, augiurs iU for the sort of Society which
requires it. What is wanted, they will urge, is to
get away from the whole idea of coercion as the
basis of Society ; for it is its coercive character that
makes the State such a iiasty body.

But it is of no use to refuse to talk about a thing
because one does not happen to like it. However
much one may dislike coercion and seek to reduce
its operation in Society to a minimum, it is necessary
to provide for its exercise, if only to supply a means
for its abohtion. For only that body which possesses
coercive power is in a position to forego or prohibit
its exercise.

Having discovered where coercive power must
reside in a functional Society, we are now in a position
to give vent to our dislike of it. One of the greatest
results which, I beUeve, would flow from the fuU
recognition of functional organisation would be a
substantial and immediate reduction in the use of
coercion in Society. For coercion is the consequence

' For a development of this point, see Chapter XII.

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

of social disorder, and the need for it largely comes,
not of innate human wickedness, but of men's
failtire under existing social conditions to find their
proper spheres of social service and to recognise
clearly their rights and obUgations in Society. If
we set our social house in order and make it easier
for men to recognise their proper sphere of social
service, the need for coercion wiU, I believe, speedily
and progressively disappear.^

Moreover, there is another huge advantage of
functional Society over State Sovereignty. The
theory of the Sovereign State means that the pigmy,
man, is confronted by the leviathan. State, which
encircles and absorbs him wholly, or at least claims
the absolute right to encircle and absorb him. It
claims to ' represent ' fully all the individuals who
are its members, and therefore' to be absolutely
superior to them and over them, and to come always
first. The functional principle destrojre any such
claim; for its denial that the individual can be
' represented ' in any complete sense means that
social organisation, however vast and complicated
it may be, leaves the individual intact and seLf-
subsistent, distributing his loyalties and obligations
among a number of functional bodies, but not
absorbed in any or aU of them, because outside the
sphere of functional organisation there remains
always that most vital sphere of individuaUty whose
self-expression is essentially personal and incapable
of being organised. The functional principle is,

1 This view appears to be also largely that of Mr. Bertrand
Russell, who adopts Guild Socialism as a step towards a non-
coercive Society. See his Roads to Freedom.

140

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

above all else, the recognition of the absolute and
inalienable personal identity of every individual
person.^

There is one further point with which we must
deal before bringing this chapter to an end. In
dealing with the natiire of the State, we discussed
briefly the international aspects of social organisa-
tion. We saw that international action, or the
external actions of a particular Society, have their
various functional aspects, in which they fall within
the sphere of the various forms of functional asso-
ciation. There remain those parts of international
or external action which involve more than one
function or call for action by Society as a whole.
Foremost among these there will no doubt leap to
the mind of the reader the control of armed forces
— ^the Army, Navy and Air Force. Where, in a
functional Society, would the control of these
reside ? Who would declare war or make peace or
treaties and covenants affecting Society as a whole ?
Who would represent a functional Society in a
League of Nations ?

The answers to all these questions follow logically
from what has already been established. The
external use of force and coercion raises similar
problems to its internal use, and it is even more
manifest in external relations that the right to use it
must be concentrated in the hands of a single body.
One part of Society cannot be at peace while another

1 For a fuller discussion of tliis point, see my paper on ' Con-
flicting Social Obligations ' {Proceedings of the Aristotelian Society,
1915-16), and the chapter on ' The Organisation of Freedom ' in
my Labour in the Commonwealth.

141

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

part is at war ; for the claims of war upon the
individual citizen are not Umited to an eight hours'
day, or to the act of voting ; they involve for him
the risk of death by violence or starvation. No less
clearly is it impossible to entrust external force to
any single functional association, both because
external affairs involve and interest all the essential
forms of association, and because force intended
for use externally is also available for internal use,
and sole control of armed forces would make the
association which possessed it the master of Society.
We must, therefore, once more conclude that the
external, Uke the internal, means of coercion, must
be in the hands of the body which represents the
various social functions, -and is entrusted with the
task of co-ordination.

Here, again, I am dealing with the problem of
external force, not because Annies and Navies and
wars are nice things, but because, whether they are
nice or nasty, the problem which they present has
to be faced. I hope with all my heart that they will
disappear before the growth of international co-
operation, not only between States, but between
all the various forms of functional association.
Moreover, I beUeve that functional association,
which has already shown itself far ahead of States
in its sense of international sohdarity, offers the
best hope of a condition of World Society which
wiU make external force unnecessary, and will also
persuade everybody, except the incorrigible and
disappointed militarists, that it is unnecessary.

Here, then, is the answer to our last question —
Who would represent a functional Society on a

142

COERCION AND CO-ORDINATION

League of Nations ? The answer is that an inter-
national Society, which in embryo a League of
Nations is, if it is anjd;hing more than a sham,
would reproduce in itself the functional structure
of the smaller Societies composing it. Inter-
national functional association would imdertake,
in the wider sphere, the work undertaken in the
narrower sphere by national functional organisation,
and the central co-ordinating body would reproduce
internationally the federal structure of the national
ca-ordinating bodies. This, no doubt, assumes a
certain homogeneity of structure among the Societies
composing the League ; but it is at least doubtful
whether, without a considerable element of homo-
geneity, a League of Nations could possibly work.
A perception of this perhaps accounts for the desire
of the ' Sovereign States,' which have just formed
a League, to impress upon aU candidates for entry
the particular structure, economic and political,
which they themselves possess.^

1 This point is further discussed in my Labour in the Common-
wealth, chap. ii.

143

CHAPTER IX

THE ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF
SOCIETY

THERE will be a certain tj^e of reader who
will regard the greater part of this book
as beside the point, or at best as a harmless
form of theoretical diversion. I am ignoring, he
wiU say, or relegating to a quite secondary position
the factor which in reality dominates and determines
the whole course of social organisation. PoUtical
organisation, and indeed every essential form of
associative life, is, in his view, the result of economic
conditions and of the distribution of economic
power in the community, and the changes which
occur from time to time in social organisation are
equally the results of changes fh the economic
circumstances. In the words of Marx and Engels,
" The economic structure of Society is the real
basis on which the juridical and political
superstructure is raised — ^in short, the mode of pro-
duction determines the character of the social,
political, and intellectual life generally."

It is necessary for us to take notice of this point
of view, and to admit at once the large measure of
truth which it possesses, if our exposition of the

144

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

theoretical basis of Society is to have any vital
contact with the working of actual Societies. In-
deed, we have already, at several stages of our argu-
ment, laid stress on the vital importance of the
economic factor in influencing and directing the
working of other forms of association, as well as the
interaction of various economic factors and associa-
tions. We have, however, always treated the in-
fluence of economic factors upon non-economic
forms of association as a form of perversion, leading
to a failure of the association so affected to fulfil its
proper function in Society. If the Marxian thesis
is right in its entirety, we must abandon this view ;
for it is foUy to regard as ' perversion ' a pheno-
menon which flows directly from the nature of
Society itself, or to treat as independent forms of
association bodies and manifestations which are
only the ' superstructure ' of economic organisa-
tion.

In fact, we are here faced by a theory which is the
complete inversion of the theory of State Sover-
eignty which we have aheady rejected. Having
pulled down the State from its pedestal, we are asked
to install the economic structure of Society in its
place. There is, however, a profound difference in
the argument advanced. Although the claim of the
State to Sovereignty is sometimes based on the fact
that it is the sole repository of armed force, this
argument is not very often or very persistently em-
ployed ; for it is clear that there is no reason in the
nature of the State why it should occupy this
position, and also increasingly clear that there exist
other forms of ' force,' such as the strike, which
K 145

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

may under favourable conditions successfully
challenge even a monopolist in armed force. The
case for State Sovereignty is therefore usually
argued not on this basis of fact, but on what is put
forward as a basis of right. The State is said to be
sovereign, because it represents everybody.

The argument that the economic structure of
Society is, if I may use the term, ' sovereign,' is
based on quite different grounds. It is not as a
rule suggested that economic conditions ou^t
to be the supreme determinant in Society, but only
that they are and must be, owing to the operation
of forces beyond our control. The advocates of
this theory — ^the ' materialist ' or ' economic ' con-
ception of history — ^are indeed apt to be impatient
of ' oughts ' and rights. They claim that their
conception is ' scientific,' and base it upon the
stern laws of necessity and' material evolution.
Whatever fine theories other people may spin, they
continue to proclaim the hard fact that the himian
race marches upon its beUy, and that the economic
order of Society determines everything else.

Whatever the process of argument, the result
arrived at is in one respect the same as that arrived
at by the advocates of State Sovereignty. Fimc-
tional organisation in either case disappears, or
appears only as a subordinate form determined by
and existing on the sufferance of a single form of
organisation, which, even if it has a functional basis,
is not in its operation confined to any particular
function.

There is, however, still an ambiguity in the
materialist conception. What is meant by the

146

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

words, " the economic structure of Society " ? Do
they refer to actual associations, such as Trade
Unions or capitalist associations, and to the distri-
bution of power among such associations ? Or do
they, as the final clause of our quotation from Marx
and Engels rather seems to suggest, refer to the
actual material conditions existing in Society,
without regard to the associations which are
related to these conditions ?

There is no doubt that the direct reference is not
to associations but to the material conditions
themselves. But it is held that each set of material
conditions finds its necessary expression in a set of
associations and a form of social organisation of its
own. Thus, one set of associations corresponded to,
and arose out of, the productive conditions of
primitive Society ; another set was the inevitable
result of the productive conditions of the Middle
Ages ; and yet another set, imder which we are
now living, has been called into existence by the
great inventions and the development of large-
scale production which marked the period of the
Industrial Revolution. Each set of economic con-
ditions changes gradually, with or without a sharp
break or upheaval at some point, into the next,
and each new set of associations grows and is built
up gradually within the old, until the conditions
are ripe for it to assert its dominance, and for the
obsolete set of associations to be discarded. Thus,
within the capitalist system, a new set of associa-
tions is being built up which wiU take the place of
Capitalism ; but those new associations, Trade
Unions and other working-class bodies, are as much

147

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the products of economic conditions as the capitalist
system itself.

As an analysis of the growth of Capitalism, and
of the working of capitalist institutions both in the
past and at the present time, this theory is so largely
right that the points at which it is wrong are easily
overlooked. Yet there are at least two consider-
able mis-statements involved in it, as it is most
commonly expressed.

In the first place, it does not prove, as is often
contended, that the form of non-economic associa-
tions is determined by economic conditions, but
only that their actual working and methods of
operation are so determined. Thus, when a pro-
minent Marxist ^ writes a book to prove that the
State as an association is the political expression of
Capitalism and will disappear with the overthrow
of Capitalism, what he actually does prove is that,
while Capitalism exists as the dominant social
form, the State will be forced to do the bidding of
Capitalism, and will be, in actual fact, the political
expression of the dominant economic power of the
capitalist classes. What he does not prove is
that, with the overthrow of Capitalism, the State
wiU disappear ; or that it will not be able to assume
and exercise its true function as soon as the economic
pressure of Capitalism is removed.

In other words, his argument does not in any
sense disprove our thesis that what occurs under
CapitaUsm is a perversion of the true function of
the State, and its use, not as a political instrument
of the whole people, but as a secondary econoniico-

• The State : its Origin and Function. By William Paul.
148

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

political instrument by the dominant economic
class.

Secondly, although the State is in fact largely an
' Executive Committee for administering the affairs
of the capitalist class,' it is not exclusively so.
Perversion of function is not carried so far as to
obliterate all signs and traces of its real function.
Indeed, by ex£i,mining the actual working of the
. State, even under capitalist conditions, we have been
able to assign to it its essential function in a ration-
ally ordered Society Under any economic system
the State will continue to exercise functions which
are not economic, and the perversion of its activities
by economic causes will not extend continuously
to all its doings.

It will be seen that the line of argument which I
am adopting is an endorsement of a large part of the
Marxian case. While I cannot accept the neo-
Marxian criticism of the State as universally true,
or as touching the State in its real social function,
I am accepting its general truth as it applies to the
State of to-day. It is the case that the functioning,
not only of the State, but also of most other forms
of association, including the economic forms them-
selves perhaps more than any, is perverted by
the influence exercised upon them by economic
factors.

Nor is the reason for this widespread perversion
far to seek. It is embedded in the present economic
structure of Society. For, instead of being organ-
ised as a coherent whole for the complementary
performance of social functions, men are to-day
organised in the economic sphere in conflicting

149

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

groups, each of which is at least as much concerned
with getting the better of the others and diverting
to its own use as much as possible of the product of
labour as with serving the community by the per-
formance of a useful function. Thus the economic
sphere of social action has become a battle-ground
of contending sections, and these combatants are
also irresistibly impelled to widen their battle-
front so as to lay waste the tracts of social organisa-
tion which lie outside the economic sphere. Thus,
trade rivalries lead to wars between nations ; internal
industrial dissension leads employers' associations
and Trade Unions to seek direct representation in
Parliament, and to extend into the political sphere
their economic disputes ; and finally, the whole
people tends to raUy to the one standard or the
other, and to make Society as a whole a ' de-
vastated area ' of economic conflict and class-war.

I am not concerned to iosist here on my belief
that Labour is in the right, and Capitalism in the
wrong in this stniggle, but solely to insist that,
wherever the right Ues, the existence of such an
economic conflict in Society is fatal to the due
performance of its function by each form of social
organisation. Indeed, this statement can be made
more general ; for economic conflict is not the only
sort of division that can so rend a commimity
asunder as largely to stop the functioning of its
various parts. ReUgious differences, as we shall
see later, can produce and have produced the same
resiilts, and there is no final reason why some
other matter of discord shoxild not produce them
if it arouses strong enough feelings in a sufiicient

150

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

part of the population. We may say, then, that
the existence of a profound social cleavage in regard
to the fulfilment of any essential social function
is prejudicial, and may be fatal, to the performance
of its proper function by each form of social
organisation.

In oiu: own Society at least, and in the larger
industrialised communities generally, economic
divisions are at the present time the principal
obstacles to the fulfilment of social functions.
Great inequalities of wealth and economic status
lead inevitably, under the modern conditions which
necessarily favour large-scale combination on both
sides, to cleavages in Society that are bound to
assume the character of open conflicts. It is
therefore useless to expect that the various forms
of association will perform their functions properly
as long as the conditions which make for such
conflicts continue in existence. The only remedy
Ues in some form of approximate, or comparatively
economic equaUty.

It must be made clear that this assertion is not
a plea for, or a declaration of faith in, any par-
ticular economic system, even if faith in a particular
system is implied in much of this book. Compara-
tive or approximate economic equality is possible
under more than one system, and I am Marxian
enough to believe that different systems are re-
quired for its attainment under different economic
and productive sjretems. Thus, a generally diffused
system of peasant proprietorship, such as Mr.
BeUoc and his followers have made an undeniably
heroic theoretical attempt to adapt to the conditions

151

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

of modern industrialised Societies,^ is certainly a
possible approximation to equality for an agrarian
Society, and under it such a Society might hope to
find its variotis functional associations doing their
jobs with some approximation to propriety. All
the various schools of Socialist thought — Collectivist,
Communist, Guild Socialist, Syndicalist — set out
to provide a basis for economic equality on the
opposite principle, not of the general difEusion and
distribution, but of the concentration and social
ownership of the means of production. Any of these
systems, whatever their other faults, might, given
an appropriate set of material conditions as a basis,
provide economic equality and thereby make possible
the functioning of Society without perversion from
economic causes. But without virtual economic
equality it is useless to look for the disappearance
or subordination of class-conflict, and therefore
useless to expect Society to function aright, either
economically or in any other sphere.

In granting so much to the ' materialists,' how-
ever, we must be careful to make clear what we do
not grant. Although Society does in one sense walk
upon its belly, it does not by any means follow
either that the things of the beUy must always be
Society's main concern, or that they wUl always
continue to dominate and determine the other
forms of social action. Far from it. The present
dominance of economic considerations in Society is
based on two things-»the ' struggle for bread '
and the " struggle for power.' In the struggle for

' See The Servile State, by Hilaire Belloc, and The Real Demo-
cracy, by J. E. F. Mann, N. J. Sievers, and R. W. T. Cox.

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

bread there are two factors — shortage and mal-
distribution — ^to be considered. In so far as pro-
ductive power falls short, and there is a real de-
ficiency in the supply of commodities to supply
real needs, there exists an economic problem which
will continue to trouble us whatever social system we
may adopt, until we find a remedy in increasing
production. But in so far as productive power
is adequate, but difficulty arises over the division
of the product, i.e. mal-distribution, the problem
disappears with the reaUsation of economic equality.
And with the disappearance of this problem goes
also one of the two causes which make the eco-
nomic factors dominate the other factors in social
organisation.

The second cause, the ' struggle for power,'
remains. This is not exclusively or in its nature
economic ; but it manifests itself in the economic
sphere in a struggle between economic classes for
the control of industry. With the abolition of
economic class, and the establishment of unified
functional control of industries by all the persons
engaged in them, the social struggle for economic
power also disappears, and the second cause of the
predominance of economic factors is also removed.
In other words, democratic functional organisation
and approximate economic equaUty are the con-
ditions of the removal of the dominance of economic
factors in Society.

In short, if economic classes and class-conflicts
are done away with, the Marxian thesis will no longer
hold good, and economic power will no longer be the
dominant factor in Society. Economic considera-

153

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

tions will lose their unreal and distorted magnitude
in men's eyes, and will retain their place as one group
among others round which the necessary social
functions are centred. For the artificial material
valuation of social things, which is forced upon us
by the actual structure of present-day Society, it
will become possible to substitute a spiritual valua-
tion. When once we have got the economic sphere
of social action reasonably organised on functional
lines, we shall be free to forget about it most of the
time, and to interest ourselves in other matters.
The economic sphere will not, of course, be any less
essential than before ; but it will need less attention.
Always associations and institutions, as well as
people, need most attention when they are least
' themselves,' Our preoccupation with econo-
mics occurs only because the economic system is
diseased.

Needless to say, the organisation of the ' eco-
nomic substratum ' of Society on functional lines
would produce a very difEerent economic organisation
from that which exists in Society at the present time.
To-day, almost all the economic forms of association
are doubled with counter-association of workers
responding to association of employers, often with
associations of managers and professionals trjdng to
steer an awkward course between these persistent
Symplegades. All this duplication of associations
is not merely wasteful, but actively pernicious. It
means that energy, which is required for the service
of the community, is diverted and perverted into a
conflict which, from the standpoint of the com-
munity, produces nothing.

154

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

This is not to condemn those who engage in, or
actively stir up, such conflict. The class-divisions
and economic inequalities which exist in Society
make the conflict not merely inevitable, but the only
means to the attainment of better conditions. It
has been truly said that there is no instance in
history of a dominant economic class giving up
its position except imder the pressure of a rising
economic class which has become stronger than
itself. The only end to this process is the abolition
of economic classes and the realisation of econonaic
equality.

The economic structure of Society can only be
properly adjusted to the due performance of its
function when the elements of conflict, and with them
the conflicting forms of economic association, are
resolved into a functional unity. This would in-
volve the disappearance of some, and the radical
reorganisation and re-orientation of others, of the
existing types of economic association. The em-
ployers' association and the Trade Union would
alike be out of place as primarily offensive and
defensive forms of organisation, and the main types
of association would find their motive not in defence
or offence, but in social service. The personnel
of industry would no longer be divided into oppos-
ing camps, but united in its common pursuit
of its function of the social organisation of
production.

If this chapter seems altogether too general and
imsubstantial to be a real analysis or criticism of
the economic part of the social structure, that is
because I am loth, by plunging into details of present-

155

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

day organisation, to overweight this book with
controversies which are irrelevant to its central
purpose. I am tr37ing to speak in general ternls,
leaving the application to be made, and the moral
to be pointed, by others or in other bodies. I have
therefore not attempted to describe the present or
past or future economic organisation of Society, but
only to point out where economic conditions and
organisation do, and do not, affect the structure and
working of Society as a whole. Ordinary ' political
theory ' has suffered immeasurably from its ignoring
of the economic aspects and structure of the social
system, while Marxian theory suffers from its
persistent identification of the economic structure
with Society as a whole. I have tried to avoid both
these mistakes, and at the same time to recognise
the vast influence which econoinic conditions must
alwaj^ have upon the character of social organisation
as a whole, and to point out wherein it seems to me
this influence would be limited and made definite
under a system of economic equality.

There are economic arguments and moral argu-
ments enough in favour of the adoption of the
principle of equality in the economic sphere. With
these arguments I am not here concerned. I have
tried only to start the argument for economic
equality from the standpoint of social theory and
social organisation. In conclusion, let me restate
this argument in a single sentence.

The existence of economic inequality means that
each form of association in Society, instead of
attending to the fulfilment of its own social func-
tion, is perverted to serve economic ends, and

156

ECONOMIC STRUCTURE OF SOCIETY

that thereby the whole balance and coherence of
Society are destroyed, and, in the last resort,
revolution is converted from a menace, into a
necessity for the restoration of a reasonable social
system.

157

CHAPTER X
REGIONALISM AND LOCAL GOVERNMENT

IN our treatment of the State in earlier chapters,
we expUcitly reserved for later consideration
the question of local government. One good
reason for adopting this course was that the question
of local organisation arises not only in relation to
the political structure of Society, but also in relation
to its economic structure and to the structure of
every functional form of association.^ For us, the
problem of local government is not merely a problem
of the relations between the State and the ' local
authorities,' but of the whole organisation of
Society over larger and smaller geographical
areas.

It is being realised to an increasing extent that
the problem of the areas of government and
administration is not a purely poUtical question,
but also raises at once many economic issues. Thus,
it is often made a cause of complaint against the
existing areas of local government that they do not
correspond to economic requirements. An efficient
tramway service needs to serve the areas of several
neighbouring towns as weU as the rural districts
between them ; the supply of water and other public

158

REGIONALISM

utility services could be better administered if the
areas of local government were enlarged ; what
has grown to be essentially a single city is often
divided into several boroughs with their separate
administrations ; a town or city is constantly faced
with the overflow of its suburbs into the areas of
surrounding authorities. Similarly, in the purely
economic sphere, we have schemes for the regional-
isation of the coal-mining industry under big
regional trusts.^

These are only a few instances of the insistence
with which the problem of areas is forcing itself
upon our consideration at the present time. Here,
we are not concerned directly with the solution of
these particular difficulties, but with the general
problem of the areas of functional administration,
and the relations of larger and smaller areas within a
given Society. Clearly, the tendency at the present
time is for the areas of administration to enlarge
themselves continually in response to the growth in
the scale of production and to the continual ex-
pansion, and ■ running into one another,' of the
growing towns and urban areas.

The case for the preservation of small areas and
units of government has been again and again clearly
and forcibly stated. It has been pointed out that,
as areas grow larger, the direct contact between the
representative and the represented tends to dis-
appear, and the unreality of representation grows

1 For the economic difl&culties involved in existing areas of local
government, see State and Municipal Enterprise, by S. and B.
Webb (Labour Research Department) ; and for regionaUsation
of coal mines, see Sir A. Duckham's scheme in the Reports of the
Coal Industry Commission.

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

greater and more evident. Rousseau held that
democracy was only possible in small Societies,
because only in small Societies could the people as
a whole retain its control over the conduct of aftairs.
Mr. Penty and the craftsmen, Mr. Chesterton in
The Napoleon of Notting Hill, and other and graver
authorities, have put the case for the small unit as
the human unit which makes possible a spirit of
neighbourhood and unity which is difficult to attain
over larger areas. The followers of Professor
Patrick Geddes have infused into their conception
of ' Town-Planning ' the love of the small area. It
is, I think, true that, in the long run at least, to allow
' local patriotism ' and local organisation to fall
into decay and disrepute is to imperil the whole
basis on which Society rests.

It is a commonplace at the present time that local
feeling is in decay. Indeed, the constant attempts
to discover " revivals ' of it and to stimulate it
into action serve to show how serious the decay is.
Even where local feehng remains strong and vigorous,
as in many parts of Great Britain it does, it has,
nevertheless, withdrawn itself largely from the
sphere of local government, or local economic
administration, and concentrated itself round the
less organised and unorganised parts of local life —
sport, for instance, and sociability in general. This
is a perilous situation for the community ; for,
under right conditions, local feeling ought to express
itself not only in these largely personal spheres,
but also in all the spheres of organised social
administration.

RegionaUsm, as I understand it, is primarily an
1 60

REGIONALISM

attempt to face this difficulty, and by making local
areas real areas, to restore the influence of local
spirit upon the work of social administration. It is
an attempt to define areas which are at once units
of social feeling and, as far as possible, also areas of
economic life, and suitable to serve as units for the
work of administration. The chief faults of most
of the existing areas are two : their unreality as
centres of local feeling, and their inadequacy to the
work of administration under modern conditions,
in relation not only to local transport and other
public utility services, but also to public health,
education, and most of the other work of local
government.

If these two fatilts admit of a single remedy, so
much the better ; and clearly the views of the
regionalists and of those who think with them in
this matter have every claim to be fully considered
by a Society which is admittedly sick and ill at
ease with its existing areas.

But what must "strike us at once is the fact that
the regionalist proposal may appear in two contrary
lights. From one point of view, it appears as a
proposal for the drastic enlargement of the present
areas of local administration, while from another
point of view it appears as a scheme of devolution,
or more, designed to reduce the area of administra-
tion in respect of many of those matters which are
now dealt with centrally by the State.

Thus, we see that we cannot treat the problem of
areas in isolation from the content of their admini-
stration—from their powers and tlie questions with
which they are concerned. Under the existing, and
L i6i

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

indeed under any system, some things will be
administered centrally and some locally. This would
be the case also if ' regions ' were adopted as
important units of administration. The problem
is thus complex, and involves a combined con-
sideration of areas and powers.

Before we consider this problem directly, it is
necessary to point out that the whole question
assumes rather a different form in a functionally
organised Society from that which it has under the
existing conditions of local and central government.
For the objection that the representative loses
touch with, and cannot be controlled by, those
whom he represents in a large area, though it still
has force, is far less applicable when the function
of the representative is clearly defined than where
it is vague or general. A functionally organised
Society can therefore maintain its democratic
character over a larger area than a Society organised
on the pattern of State Sovereignty, or, for that
matter, than a Society organised on the basis of
Marxian industrialism. If it is inconvenient to
restrict the size of an area, it may be possible to
preserve democracy by restricting the function,
and at the same time increasing the number of
representative bodies in the larger area.

Thus, while it might be dangerous to enlarge the
areas of local government in industry and politics
under existing conditions, I beUeve that the ' region '
would be, for many of the most important purposes,
the best area of local government in a functionally
organised Society. The imit of local government,
to be effective, must be at once smaH. enough to be

162

REGIONALISM

democratically controlled, and a real unit of social
life and feeling. An area which would be too large
under a non-functional system might be just the
right size for democratic and efficient functional
administration.

But what of Regionalism as a proposal to sub-
stitute, for many purposes, the smaller area of the
' region ' for the larger area of the State or the
national economic organisation ? I beUeve that
this proposal is largely right because, in most cases,
the area ^ of present-day States is simply too large
for effective or democratic organisation of most
things under any system, however functional.
This does not mean that the present State areas
have no reality and no use ; but only that many
matters which are now administered naturally
would be better administered over a smaller area.
The larger areas — ^those which are larger than the
' region ' or ' province ' — seem to be marked out
as spheres rather of co-ordinating activity on most
questions than of actual executive direction.

If, as I believe, both economic life and social Ufe
generally call for ' regional ' organisation and for
the centring in the region of the largest measure of
actual executive authority, two groups of questions
at once arise. First, what is the proper relation
of the economic or political ' region ' to the larger
groups of which it forms a part, and to the smaller
groups which form part of it ? And secondly j^ is

1 Here and elsewhere I use the word ' area,' not to denote so
many square miles, but a complex involving various considera-
tions, including the extent, population, economic and general
character of the country, psychology of the inhabitants, etc.

163

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

there any principle which can serve as at least a
general indication of the respective spheres of the
various ' sizes ' of administrative or governmental
unit?

The first group of questions at once raises the
problem of federalism, decentralisation, or some
other form of allocation of powers. Broadly
speaking, there are in operation in different places
three different sjretems, in addition to all manner of
variations upon them, of determining the relations
between larger and smaller authorities of the same
type within a single Society. First, there is feder-
alism in the strict sense, under which all authority
is finally vested in the smaller bodies severally, and
each of these hands over certain definite powers to
the larger body, retaining in its own hands aU powers
not specifically transferred. Secondly, there is
decentralisation or centralisation, in which all power
is credited originally to the larger body, which doles
out with greater or less generosity such powers as
it thinks fit to the smaller bodies. English local
government, in so far as it rests upon statute law,
belongs to this tjTpe. Thirdly, there is the form in
which the power is originally divided between the
larger and the smaller bodies, special powers being
reserved to each. This occurs principally in the
case of written constitutions, and especiaUy under
systems of Dominion Home Rule in the British
Empire. Such intermediate sjretems are generally
worded either in federal terms (as in the case of Aus-
tralia) or in unitary terms (as in the case of Canada) ;
but the wording makes little difference to the result.
Such mixed systems really constitute a third t5^e.

164

REGIONALISM

In the sphere of political government, in which
alone there is evidence enough to go upon, both
constitutions originally federal and constitutions
originally unitary tend to approximate as the result
of experience of present-day conditions to this
third, or mixed, t3^e. The reason is obvious. The
relation between larger and smaller bodies of the
same kind is increasingly defining itself in terms not
of powers alone, but of powers in relation to func-
tions. It is for the larger body to fulfil certain
functions, and for the smaller bodies to fulfil certain
others. The question of local and central govern-
ment is not, in fact, primaiily a question between
federalism and decentralisation, but a question of a
right allocation of social functions.

This is true as regards the ends to be attained
and the actual balance to be sought ; but it is not
true to the same extent of the methods to be used.
The methods are, in fact, prescribed by the cir-
cumstances. If there exists a large '' unitarily '
administered area which requires to be broken up for
the performance of some of its functions, the method
of decentraUsation will normally be the most con-
venient method both of breaking it up, and of setting
up new ' regional ' bodies where they are required.
If, on the other hand, it is desired to bind together
a number of imco-ordinated small bodies into a
larger unit, federation is often the easiest instrument
to use, at least in the earUer stages. The method
is a matter of temporary expediency, and differing
methods are needed in different circumstances for
arriving at the same end.

Not so with the end itself. Before we can begin
165

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

to think about methods, we must know, as something
comparatively fixed and definite, the end to which
we desire to attain. We must make up our minds
what, for our Society and generation, is the most
desirable division of functions between larger and
smaller bodies within it, and we must then discover
the methods best suited to promote the reahsation
of this object. _

I believe that, in a functionally organised Society,
the great bulk of the administrative work, both
politically and economically, will best be done
' regionally,'- that is by poHtical and economic
bodies intermediate in extent between the national
State and the existing local authorities.^ Were
some such principle adopted, and twenty or thirty
such areas brought into administrative existence in
England, I believe that the functions which would
still be best executed by the big nat\iral unit would
be chiefly functions of co-ordination, apart from a
few big groups of questions, both economic and
political, in which national uniformity of treatment
would continue to be essential.

It must be borne in mind that I am speaking here
not of a single national body, the State, and of a
single local or rather ' regional ' body in each
' region,' but of a number of national functional

1 The ' region,' in the sense in which I use the word, is not so
large as the ' province ' contemplated in most schemes of
English ' Provincial Home Rule,' or in plans for a ' New
Heptarchy ' ; but dt is considerably larger than most of the ex-
isting areas of local government. I believe England could
reasonably be divided into, say, twenty or thirty regions, most
of which would be real social units and local feeling, and many
of which would be also approximately economic units.

i66

REGIONALISM

bodies in the national area, and of a pumber of
regional functional bodies in the ' region.' The
problem has its different aspects — ^that of co-
ordinating the working of regional economic bodies
on the one hand, and that of co-ordinating regional
pohtical bodies on the other. The problem of
co-ordinating pohtical with economic bodies we
have already discussed, and our treatment of that
subject in Chapter VIII. holds good of the ' region '
as well as of the national area.

If co-ordination is to be the main function of the
national bodies, what is the best method of repre-
sentation upon them ? There seem to be, broadly
speaking, two possibiUties — one, the method now
adopted for electing Parhaments and many other
national bodies, by universal suffrage in geographical
constituencies with or without Proportional Repre-
sentation, or various other devices for making
representation more true or the reverse — ^the other,
the method of indirect electing, under which the
members of the national bodies are chosen by the
bodies of the same kind covering a smaller area,
the members of a national assembly by the various
regional assembUes of the same kind for example.
Where the main duty of a national body is that of
co-ordination within a clearly defined sphere, I am
inclined to beheve that the second method will be
found to be the best. Under a regional system, the
direct control of the elector would be over his repre-
sentatives on the various functional bodies within the
' region,' and it would be best for these S turn to
control, and where necessary recall, their representa-
tives on the various national co-ordinating bodies,

167

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

I do not, however, desire to suggest that this
indirect form of election would necessarily apply
to every national body. The method of election
that is best varies with the function of the body
concerned, and, if a national body exercises large
powers of direct administration or government, or
deals with matters for which there is no corres-
ponding regional body, direct election is obviously
available as an alternative.

It will be seen that, in local as in national affairs,
the arguments advanced in this book favour the
ad hoc principle. Indeed, they favour it in two
ways, by insisting on the need for a clear definition
of the ftmction of each representative body, whidi
is the distinguishing mark of an ad hoc authority,
and also by insisting on an ad hoc electorate, so that
everybody votes for a body in which all are directly
concerned, but vocational and other special or
selective electorates are adopted in other cases.
Provided the fimctionsof the body are clearly defined,
and the right electorate secured, all the advantages
he with the ad hoc body over the omnihus authority,
which is based upon the fallacious theory of
representation which we have already discarded.

I have laid stress on the importance of the
' region ' as an administrative and governmental
area for poHtical and economic purposes alike. I
do not mean by this to imply that it is always
necessary, or possible, to adopt exactly the same
area as the unit for all the various sociaJ functions.
Thus, in a particxolar part of a country, the limit of
social feeling may be so clearly marked as to leave
no possible doubt as to the proper boundaries for

i68

REGIONALISM

a particular political ' region.' But, while this is
so, it may be quite clear that this political ' region '
wiU not do for an economic " region,' and the
economic boundaries may be no less distinctly, but
at the same time differently, defined. In such a
case, it will be necessary to adopt different areas
for the political and the economic region. It is,
however, desirable that the areas of administration
for the various functions should coincide wherever
possible, in order to make easy co-operation between
the various functional bodies within a district. The
areas ought to coincide wherever possible, and, where
they differ, ought to overlap as little as possible.
Thus, where they cannot be made to coincide, it
may be possible to make the area of two ' regions '
dealing with one fimction coincide with the area of
one ' region ' dealing with another.

I cannot close this chapter without asserting, with
all the vehemence at my command, the vital im-
portance to the larger community of the maintenance
of strong local life and feeling throughout the
smaller commimities within it. Only if men can
learn the social spirit in their daily contact with
their neighbours can they hope to be good citizens
of the larger community. Co-operation begins at
home, and the fact that we often quarrel most
fiercely with our nearest friends and neighbours is
only a further indication of this truths For hate,
like love, is a thing of the emotions, and it is upon
the emotions that the possibility of real human co-
operation is based. The local spirit of a com-
mimity is the key to its national spirit.

The existing local bodies mostly fall between two
169

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

stools. They are neither small enough to appeal to
the spirit of ' neighbourliness ' nor large enough to
form effective units of political or economic admini-
strations, or to appeal to that larger local spirit
which characterises the man of the West Country,
or the Lancastrian, or the Yorkshireman.^ The
' region ' will be large enough to be efl&cient and to
make this larger appeal. But the smaller appeal
will still need to be made, and I believe that the
adoption of regional areas would open the way for a
revival of very much smaller local areas which,
without possessing important administrative func-
tions, would act as centres round which the feelings
of ' neighbourliness ' could find expression, and
also as most valuable organs of criticism through
which a fire of praise, blame and advice could be
brought to bear upon the representatives on the
regional bodies. Such smaller centres of feeling and
expression are no less vital to real democracy than
the larger bodies upon which, under present coa-
ditions, most of the work of administration is
bound to fall.

It should be noted that, throughout this chapter,
the treatment of the question of ' Regionalism ' is
theoretical and is not conceived in terms of prac-
tical proposals for immediate adoption. I am
speaking, not of changes which can readily be
introduced into Society as it is at present con-
stituted, but of the form which local government
might reasonably be expected to assume in a
functionally organised Society. At present, Society

' The County Council is not a unit, but a residuum with the
heart cut out of it by the severance of the towns.

170

REGIONALISM

is largely a battle-ground of opposing social forces,
especially in the economic sphere. This fact in-
evitably forces upon associations, and above aU
upon economic associations, a growing concentration
upon both sides ; for each tries to roll up bigger
battalions with which to confront the big battalions
of its adversary. Thus, both capitalist associations
and Trade Unions tend to an increasing extent to
centralise their activities upon at least a national
scale, not because the national area is the best area
for most forms of economic administration, but
because they are less concerned with efficient service
than with sectional or ' class ' aims, and with their
mutual struggle. These conditions, making for
centralisation, are Ukely to persist as long as the
existing diversion of the community into opposing
economic classes continues. It is therefore pro-
bable that most regionaUst proposals, especially in
their economic aspects, will only become ' practical
politics ' when the existing class-divisions in
industry have disappeared.

171

CHAPTER XI
CHURCHES

IT is impossible, in any study of social theory
which professes to be in any sense compre-
hensive, not to deal directly with the place of
religious associations in Society. The old quarrel
of Church and State may belong mainly to the past,
and may have ceased, in this coimtry at least, to
affect profoundly the whole social order ; but the
place of Churdies in modern Society is by no means
settled, and, apart from this controversy. Churches
occupy a position of essential importance in the
Society of to-day. Not only is the Roman Inter-
national still with us : the Church of England and
the ' Free Churches ' of this country have been in
our own day centres of important social controversy,
and, as we saw in our first chapter,^ sources from
which new conceptions of the functional organisation
of Society have flowed.

In the past, and especially in the Middle Ages,
the controversy between Church and State centred
mainly round the question of temporal power —
a controversy dependent upon the papsd claim
to a vice-regency of God over aU the Societies of
Christendom. To-day, the controversy is not in the
* See p. lo.
172

CHURCHES

main about temporal power, but about the rela-
tions which should exist between Church and State
in the sphere of spiritual power. Thus, the Estab-
lishment, regarded by its adherents as a recognition
by the State of the spiritual mission and social
function of the Church, is in fact also an instrument
of State supremacy over theChurch, a means whereby
the temporal power of the State, often wielded now
by persons who are not Churchmen, takes into its
hand the appointment of spiritual leaders. In
return for a doubtful gain in status, the Established
Church surrenders a precious part of its autonomy —
a position which only continues because the
Establishment now does no particular harm to
persons who are not Churchmen, while Churchmen
cUng to it either from a sense that it confers or
recognises status, or from less worthy economic
motives. Thus, the growing ' Life and Liberty
Movement ' in the Church of England recognises
to the full the need for spiritual autonomy, but still
clings to Establishment, which, under the conditions
of to-day, cannot be made consistent with autonomy.
In so far as ' establishment ' is to be regarded as
a social recognition of the mission of the ' established '
body, it appears to be quite logical where, and as
long as, the vast majority of the people owe allegi-
ance to a single Church. It is logical in such circum-
stances, because the Church cannot concern itself
solely with purely ' private ' concerns, but must
also, if it is to have a mission at aU, concern itself
intimately and constantly with men's social and
associative existence. Its rules and precepts of
conduct, if they apply at all, must apply not only to

173

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

men's private and personal doings, but also to their
social doings and to the doings of the associations of
which they are members. No Church which claims
to have any influence upon conduct can be merely
' other-worldly ' : indeed, it can only be effectively
' other-worldly ' in proportion as it occupies itself
with the things of this world.

This social character of Churches, implicit in their
very nature and explicit wherever they have any
real hold upon the people, carries with it the right
to the recognition of Churches as an integral part of
the structure of Society, wherever a considerable
proportion of the people is concerned with them.
But ' establishment ' has so far meant the ex-
clusive recognition of the social character of a
single Church within a single territory, whether
or not it is the only Church or the Church which
is generally accepted by the people. If, however,
the right to recognition depends upon the social
character of Churches, that right extends to aU
Churches which possess this character. The
functional principle implies the recognition of
all Churches on a basis of equality.

Here, however, an immediate difficulty confronts
us. The social recognition of the Miners' Federa-
tion or of the Edinburgh School Board does not
preclude the social recognition of the National
Union of Railwajmien or the School Board of
Dundee. Indeed, it even impUes it ; for the
functions of various industries and of various local
authorities are complementary, and form a basis
for co-operation and the creation of joint and
federal bodies where they are required for the

174

CHURCHES

functioning and social recognition of any particular
form of association. Churches, on the other hand,
despite attempts at ' Reunion All Round ' are not
professedly complementary and do not naturally
cohere ; for almost every one of them professes,
and must be taken as believing itself, to be the
only true Church.

The problem of " recognition,' then, is not so
simple in the case of Churches as in the case of those
forms of association which cohere naturally, because
they recognise at once the complementary character
of their social functions.

What, then, is the right of Churches to recognition
to mean in practice in a functionally organised
Society ? Or, in other words, what is the right
relation of Churches in such a Society not merely
to the State, but to the various essential forms
of association and to the bodies which exist to
co-ordinate their work ?

We cannot hope to answer this question until we
have studied more carefully the nature of the Church
as a form of human association. As soon as we do
this, its essential difference from the other forms of
association which we have been mainly considering
becomes at once manifest. The ' functions ' of
which we have been speaking throughout this book
we have again and again interpreted as meaning
' getting something done,' that is, producing
material results external to the persons who are
members of the associations. I do not mean that
Churdiies never aim at material results, any more
than I mean that poHtical and economic associa-
tions have no spiritual aspects, or aim at results

175

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

that are merely material. But I do mean that
the direct objects of political and economic associa-
tion are primarily material, whereas the direct
objects of Churches are primarily spiritual.

This fact can perhaps be stated more clearly in
another way. The distinction between political
and economic association is that they have different
jobs to do, and work upon different subject-matters.
But Churches must concern themselves with the
subject-matter of both pohtical and economic
associations, as well as with many matters which
fall outside their sphere. The distinction between
Churches and these other forms of association lies,
then, not in the subject-matter with which they
deal, but in their different ways of approaching it.
They are concerned with producing a material result,
and Churches are also concerned in producing this
result ; but with political and economic associations
the result is primary, while with Churches it is
secondary and derivative. The primary concern of
Churches, as social associations, is to make their
conception of the Spirit of God manifest and real
upon earth.

The appeal, then, of Churches is different, and the
form of social power proper to them is different.
The power of pohtical and economic associations is a
material power, exercisable in the last resort upon
the bodies of the members : the power of Churches
is or ought to be a spiritual power, exercisable upon
the mind and not upon the body.

If this is so, it follows that Churches can form no
part of the co-ordinating body in Society, in so far
as this body i§ Qojigemed with material forms of

J76

CHURCHES

coercion. Material coercion, despite the rack and
the stake, is no business of Churches. May the time
come when it will cease to be the business of Society
in any aspect.

Our problem now reappears as a problem of the
relation of spiritual to material power. And we
arrive at once at the result that these two forms of
power possess no organisable relation. If there is to
be an organised relatioh between Churches and the
other forms of association of which we have been
speaking, it can arise only in two cases, where the
Churches are directly concerned with material things
and where their other associations are directly
concerned with spiritual things.

In fact, the proper relation of Churches to politi-
cal and economic forms of association is essentially
one of co-operation without formal co-ordination.
Churches cannot, without sacrificing their essentially
spiritual character, enter into, or become a part of,
the co-ordinating structure of Society dealt with in
Chapter VIII. But they can, on many issues,"
fruitfully co-operate with other associations. An
instance is the civil recognition of reUgious marriages
which exists to-day. Co-operation is essential :
co-ordination a distortion of the character both of
Churches and of the bodies with which the co-
ordination is made.

This separation of Church and State is in no sense
either an isolation of the Churches or a derogation
from their social character. It is not an isolation,
because the need for fuU co-operation remains : it is
not a derogation, because it is the very fact that the
Church— any real Church — ^is a universitas in itself
M 177

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

that makes co-ordination impossible. Full liberty
of religious association and observance is therefore
not the sole necessity : full self-government for
every Church and complete freedom from inter-
ference with its management, ^.ppointments, doctrines
and spiritual conduct is also implied. Only through
such separation can Churches be freed for the attain-
ment of the fullest liberty and the proper perform-
ance of their spiritual function. Pohtical and
economic associations must make their laws and
Churches theirs. They may differ and even be con-
tradictory ; but they cannot conflict because they
are on Afferent planes, and, where they are con-
tradictory, it is for the individual to choose his
allegiance. History proves that he will often prefer
a material penalty to a spiritual reprobation.

Nothing that has been said in this chapter is
meant to suggest that the organised Churches possess
a monopoly of the spiritual fvmction, or that they are
the sole depositories of spiritual wisdom. As in
other spheres, the .individual is the ultimate de-
pository of spiritual wisdom and unwisdom, and only
a part of his ' wisdom ' is susceptible of organisation.
The existence of Churches is only one of the objective
symbols of the truth that every material thing and
purpose is also spiritual, and their separate existence
does not derogate from, but serves to emphasise, the
spiritual as well as material character of other
associations. As in man, so in Society and in the
commimity, the spiritual and material ' universes '
exist side by side, related in a relation which,
fundamental and necessary as it is, is no easier to
explain in the one case than in the other. Much

178

CHURCHES

that is spiritual escapes the organising iniluence of
all the Churches, as much that is material escapes
the organising of poUtical, economic and other
primarily material forms of association ; in the
spiritual, as in every other sphere, the individual
rem£|,ins as the ultimate reahty in which all associa-
tion is built, but whom association can never
exhaust or completely express.

179

CHAPTER XII
LIBERTY

THIS book has throughout dealt mainly with
the functions and interrelations of associations
within the community, with the nature of
association, and with its various forms and motives,
with the problems arising out of the actual working
of associations, and so on. In short, it has been
mainly a book about organised Society, and has
only dealt incidentally and in passing with those
aspects of community which fall outside the sphere
of organised Society.

This, however, does not absolve us from the neces-
sity of dealing, from otir own standpoint, with the
problem which has presented the greatest difficulty
of all to every social theorist — ^the problem of the
relation of the individual to Society, and of the place
of individual liberty in the community.

The problem does not, indeed, assume for us the
form which it assumed for Herbert Spencer, the form
simply expressed in the phrase ' the Man versus the
State ' ; but neither can we be content with the
simple identification of liberty with law to which
some theorists of an opposite school have all too
willingly approximated. The question for us is one,
first, of the relative spheres of social and individual

i8o

LIBERTY

action, and secondly, one of the relation of the in-
dividual to the various associations of which he is
a member, or which claim in Society a jurisdiction
which affects his interests.

This forces upon us some attempt to define
hberty, as it appears in Society and in the com-
munity. And here the first- thing we have to do is
to get clear in our minds a distinction between two
senses in which the word is used — ^hberty attaching
to the individual qua individual, and hberty attaching
to associations and institutions with which the
individual is concerned. This is not the famihar
distinction between ' civil ' and ' poHtical,' or even
' social,' hberty as it is ordinarily drawn ; for a
hberty attaching to the individual qua individual
may be political or economic in its content as well as
civil. It is a distinction, not in the content of the
hberty, but in its form of expression, between the
hberty of personal freedom and the hberty of free
and self-governing association.

It has often been pointed out that, if every in-
dividual is left absolutely free and unrestricted, the
result, taken as a whole, is not hberty but anarchy.
Nominally free, in such circumstances, the individual
has really no freedom because he has no security
or safeguard, and no certainty of the way in which
other people will behave towards him. But it is
no less true that, even if a community possesses a
complete a:nd all-pervading system of free and self-
governing association, the individual is not neces-
sarily any more free, because the associa,tions may
so trammel his hberty as to leave him no range for
free cSaovob or personal self-expression. In other

i8i

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

words, ' free ' institutions do not necessarily carry
with them personal liberty, any more than personal
' unrestrainedness ' can by itself secure real per-
sonal freedom. The two ifianifestations of liberty
are complementary, and neither of them can be
complete, or even real, without the other.

It will be noticed that in the last paragraph there
was not an exact parallel between our twd cases.
I did not say that, whereas personal ' unrestrained-
ness ' could not guarantee personal freedom, neither
could the unrestrained freedom of associations
guarantee the real liberty of associations. In both
cases, the end in view was the hberty of the in-
dividual ; for, in the last resort, the word ' liberty '
has no meaning except in reference to the individual.
We may speak, if we will, of a " free country ' or a
' free Church ' ; but in both tases we mean a freedom
which belongs to the individuals who are members
of the body or community concerned.

Here we are compelled to draw a further distinc-
tion. The idea of hberty directly applying to the
individual qua individual is a simple idea, and does
mean simply ' being let alone,' with only the
quaUfication that this ' being let alone ' is an
abstraction unless and until it is brought into
relation to the other kind of hberty, and regarded
as complementary with it. But the idea of social
hberty, or hberty as attaching directly to associa-
tions, is a complex idea, and includes two distin-
guishable elements. It impUes first the freedom of
the association from external dictation in respect of
its manner of performing its function, and it implies
equally the internal self-government and democratic

182

LIBERTY

character of the association itself. Thus, when we
speak of a ' free State,' we mean both a State which
is not subject to any other State, and a State which
is democratically governed. Personal liberty is thus
simple and external ; social liberty dual^ and both
external and internal.

This difference arises, of course, from the fact
th3.t,qua individual, the individual directly translates
his will into deed, without the need for an intervening
organisation, whereas the individual can only act
socially through an association or intermediary, so
that the need arises for a second type of social
liberty, the equivalent of which is directly guar-
anteed to us as individuals by our possession of free
will.i

Of social liberty, or the liberty of associations, it
is not necessary to add much to what has already
.been said. The internal hberty of associations
consists in their democratic character, and in the
tnily representative character of their forms of
government and administration. Their external
liberty consists in their freedom from interference
from outside in the performance of their functions.
The point which I have thus emphasised twice by
the use of italics is of the first importance. The
external liberty of an association consists not in its
freedom from all interference from outside, but in
its freedom in relation to its fimction. Such inter-
ference as is necessary to co-ordinate its fimction

1 It will, of course, be seen that I am here refraining from
entering into the oldest ethical controversy in the world. In
such an ethical theory as that of Kant, personal freedom of
course has its internal character of self-determination as well as
the external character of ' unrestrainedness.'

183

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

with those of other associations is not a diminution
of freedom, and interference arising from a departure
by the ' association from its function is still less
so ; for the association exists for the performance
of its fimction and for nothing else, and, as soon
as it steps outside its function, its rights lapse
because it ceases to possess to its members a true
representative relation.^

Personal liberty also is so simple an idea in itself
as to need no detailed separate treatment. It is
simply the freedom of the individual to express
without external hindrance his ' personality ' —
his Ukes and dislikes, desires and aversions, hopes
and fears, his sense of right and wrong, beauty and
ugliness, and so on.

But to treat these two forms of liberty separately
leads us nowhere. They acquire a real meaning only
when they are brought into relation and when their
complementary character is fully revealed. Until
that is done they remain abstractions.

Let us remember above all that Hberty as a whole
has a meaning only in relation to the individual.
Sodety and the community itself have no meaning
apart from the individuals composing them, and to
treat them as ' ends in themselves ' is to fall into
an error which vitiates every conclusion based upon
it. When, therefore, we seek to bring personal and
social Hberty into a complementary relation, what
we are all really doing is to seek that relation between

' This statement must be taken in connexion with the remarks
on ' perversion of function ' in Chapter III. ; iot where per-
version in one case causes perversion in another the association
may acquire a secondary ' counter-perversionary ' function
which upholds its representative relation.

184

LIBERTY

them which will secure the greatest liberty for all
the individuals in a community, both severally and
in association. It is not a question of striking a
balance between the claims and counter-claims of
the individual and of Society, but of determining
what amount of organisation and what absence of
organisation will secure to the individual the greatest
liberty as the result of a blending of personal and
social hberties.

First of all, it is necessary to rid ourselves once
and for all of the notion that organisation is in itself
a good thing. It is very easy to fall into the notion
that growing complexity is a sign of progress, and
that the expanding organisation of Society is a sign
of the coming of the Co-operative Commonwealth.
A constantly growing measure of co-operation among
men is no doubt the greatest social need of our day ;
but co-operation has its unorganised as well as its
organised forms, and certainly the unorganised co-
operation of men, based on a sheer feeling of com-
munity, is not less valuable than organised co-opera-
tion, which may or may not have this feeling of
commimity behind it. It is easier to do most
things with organisation than without ; but organi-
sation is to a great extent only the scaffolding
without which we should find the temple of human
co-operation too difficult to build.

To say this is not to decry organisation : it is only
to refrain from worshipping it. Organisation is a
marvellous instrument through which we every
day accomplish all manner of achievements which
would be inconceivable without it : but it is none
the less better to do a thing without organisation if

185

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

we can, ot with the minimum of organisation that is
necessary. For all organisation, as we have seen,
necessarily carries with it an irreducible minimum
of distortion of human purpose : it alwaj^ comes
down, to some extent, to letting other people do
things for us instead of doing them ourselves, to
allowing, in some measures, the wills of ' represen-
tatives ' to be substituted for our own wills. Thus,
while it makes possible in one way a vast expan-
sion of the field of self-expression that is open
to the individual, it also in another way distorts
that expression and makes it not completely the
individual's own.

In complex modern communities there are so
many things that must be organised that it becomes
more than ever important to preserve from organi-
sation that sphere in which it adds least to, and is
apt to detract most from, our field of self-expression
— the sphere of personal relationships and personal
conduct. Legislation in recent times has tended
more and more to encroach upon this sphere, not so
much directly as by indirect roads, and especially
owing to the operation of economic causes. Those
measures of organisation and social coercion which
trench upon the personal liberty of the individual
or of the family are almost all directly traceable to
economic causes, and fundamentally, to the existence
of economic inequality in the community. They
are the repercussions of the mal-distribution of
property and income upon the personal lives of the
poorer sections of the community. Given even an
approximate economic equality, there would be no
need for them.

i86

LIBERTY

This is a sign of the manner in which bad organi-
sation, or lack of free organisation of a particular
social function, at once causes perversion in other
spheres, not only by causing one association to usurp
the function of another, but by causing organisation
to take place, and compulsion to be applied, where
personal liberty ought most to be preserved. The
first necessity for concrete liberty for the individual
Ues in proper free functional organisation of those
things which cannot be done without association.
This alone makes it possible to leave untouched
those spheres of human action which are spoiled
by organisation.

This argument can be stated more particularly
in another way. Economic equality is essential to
personal freedom in the sphere of personal and
family relations. But free, or democratic, functional
organisation in the economic sphere is essential to
the maintenance of economic equality. Therefore
free economic organisation is essential to personal"
liberty in the sphere of personal relations.

But the individual will rightly refuse to be content
with a personal liberty which is confined to the
sphere of personal relations. Such liberty is vital
to him ; but it is also vital to him to be personally
free in his associative relations, that is, in relation
to the associations of which he is a member, or which
affect him by their operations. In relation to the
associations of which he is a member, he will de-
mand social freedom, that is, a right to a full share in
their government and control. But this will not
suffice for him. In addition to this social freedom
which he and his fellows will claim to enjoy in relation

187

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

to the associations to which they belong, each of
^them severally will claim personal libterty in the
sense of freedom from being tjTrannised over even
by an association in whose decisions he has a
voice and vote. What safeguard can there be
for personal freedom in relation to associations,
that is, what safeguard against the tyranny of
majorities ?

It is foUy to attempt, as some theorists do, to
answer this argument by a blank denial of the possi-
bility of such tjnranny. A majority can be just as
t3n:annical as a minority. A decision does not
become my personal decision by the fact that it is
carried against my vote in an association of which
I am a member. There is no ' paradox ' of self-
government in this sense, no social miracle by which
my will can be transmuted into its direct opposite
by the operation of democracy. It is not my real
will to carry out every decision of a majority of an
association to which I happen to belong, however
siUy or wrong I may believe it to be.

In most forms of social theory, this problem
assumes a false and misleading aspect by being
confined to my relations to one particular form of
association. The State is first assumed to be an
altogether superior kind of association or super-
association, quite different from all the other associa-
tions- to which a man may belong. It is then
assumed that he stands in quite a difEerent relation
to the State from his relation to any other associa-
tion. And, whereas no one in his senses would
beheve that it is my real will to carry out all the
decisions of my cricket club, without questioning,

i88

LIBERTY

men can be brought to think of the State so as
to say :

" Theirs not to reason wiy :
Theirs but to do and die."

If our anal37sis of the nature of association and
our account of the nature of the State as merely
one form of association are correct, it is " theirs to
reason why " either in relation to all associations
or to none. We may be prepared to stretdi more
points in favour of accepting a decision of the State
than of the cricket club, because we regard the
maintenance of the State as more important ; but,
if we reason at all, we must apply our reason to the
decrees of State as well as to those of other associa-
tions. A difference of degree may remain ; but the
difference in kind has disappeared.

According, therefore, to the social theory advanced
in this book, a man owes not one absolute social
loyalty and other subordinate loyalties which must
always, in case of need, be overriden by it, but a
number of relative and limited loyalties, of varjdng
importance and intensity, but not essentially
differing in kind. If this is so, and if the associa-
tion to which we owe our ultimate loyalty is not
externally determined for us by the character of the
association itself, it follows that the choice of ulti-
mate loyalty, in a case where loyalties conflict,
necessarily resides in the individual himself.

It is true that the functional Society which we
envisage includes in its structure forms of co-
ordination and, in the last resort, coercion. Thus, in
making his choice of loyalties, the individual cannot
choose without incurring a risk of penalty, and does

189

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

not escape altogether from the possibility of being
coerced. That, however, is not the immediate
point which I have in mind, though I shall be deaUng
with it before this chapter has grown much longer.
The immediate point is that of the moral and not
of the physical, or coercive, obhgation upon the
individual, and a great moral victory is won for
individual liberty by the successful assertion of the
individual's ultimate and unassailable moral right
to choose for himself among conflicting social
loyalties. Even if Society punishes- him for choosing
in a manner contrary to that prescribed by its
co-ordinating organisation, it has no right to blame
him or call him ' traitor ' merely because his
■choice is contrary to the social precept. It is his
business how he chooses, even if the consequences
are still a sphere for social definition.^

Moral immunity, however, may seem to afford
but cold comfort. What most people wiU want to
know is how the individual would be practically
situated if, in a case of conflict of loyalties, his
decision ran counter to that of the co-ordinating
organisation of Society. I believe that the position
of the individual would be greatly more favourable
than it is, or can be, under State Sovereignty oi
any unitary form of Sovereignty, or, in other words,
than it can be under any system in which the supreme
social authority is vested in a single body or associa-
tion. In this case at least, there is ' safety in
numbers,' and hope for the individual in the balance

• Definition before the event, of course. The objection to th«
retrospective creation of offences holds good all the more if this
view is accepted.

190

LIBERTY

of functional associations in Society. Unitary
theories of Sovereignty, or the existence in fact of
Societies in which one association is supreme, are
invitations to tyranny, because they are based upon
the inclusion of aU the individuals in a single
organisation. If the Sovereign Stg.te is the repre-
sentative of everybody, the individual is manifestly
less than the Sovereign State which claims, by virtue
of its superiority, a right to do with and to him
what it pleases — ^in the interests of all or the whole,
bien eitiendu.

But, under a functional system, each individual
is a member of many associations, and each has upon
him only a Umited claim — ^limited by its social
function. The position of the individual as the
source and sustaining spirit of every association is
therefore clear, and the associations show plainly as
only partial expressions and extensions of the wiU
of the individual. They have thus jtio superiority
over him, and their claim is hmitdd to what he
surrenders to them for the performance of their
ftmctions.

Will not a Society based upon these principles be
likely to be far less prone to tyranny than any other
sort of Society ? It must be remembered that the
functional character of all its associations wiU make
them far more truly representative, and therefore
far more likely to sustain the will to hberty among
their members. The best guarantee of personal
liberty that can exist is in the existence, in each
form of association, of an alert democracy, keenly
critical of every attempt of the elected person and the
official to pass beyond his representative function. In

191

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

a Society made up of a multiplicity of such associa-
tions, there would be less reason thanin any other that
is practically possible for the emergence of t3?ranny
and the submergence of personal liberty beneath
the weight of social organisation. The safeguards
are not absolute ; but they are as good as we can
hope for at present. The fimctional organisation of
Society contains in itself the guarantee of the recog-
nition of the fact that Society is based upon the
individuals, easts in and for the individuals, and
can never transcend the wills of the individuals
who compose it.

192

CHAPTER XIII
THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS

THERE is always a danger attendant upon
theoretical studies of presenting as static
and at rest what is essentially dynamic and
in motion. This risk is peculiarly great in the
domain of social theory ; for it is difficult to refrain
from hardening universal principles, or principles
which at least seem to be imiversal, into precepts,
and from claiming the same universality for the
precept as for the principle. Utopias are almost
always unsatisfactory, because they almost always
depict a community from which factors of vital
change and development have been eliminated.

It is therefore of the first importance that we
should remember that neither the human wills
which make Societies and communities, nor the
material circumstances upon which these wiUs work,
have any but a relative degree of permanence.
Material circumstances alter, and their alteration
compels men to adopt new methods of Uving and
working together. And on the other hand, men's
desires and aspirations change, and they seek
different methods of co-operation from time to
time and from place to place, even if the material
conditions remain the same.
N 193

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

There is, as we have seen, a strong element of
artifice about all forms of social organisation.
Associations are designed, more or less deliberately,
for the fulfilment of certain purposes. Even customs,
which seem the most unconscious things, are for
the most part only purposes become ' mechanical ' by
force of long habit. If will is the basis of Society,
habit is certainly the cement which holds its
structure together.

This ' force of habit,' which is so powerful a
factor in the working of Societies, as weU as in the
unorganised social life of communities, has two
contrasted aspects. It helps men to live together
in Societies and communities without pushing their
constant disagreements to the point of open conflict ;
for men wiU tolerate calmly an evil (in their eyes)
to which they are accustomed, whereas they would
fiercely resent and resist its introduction. The
influence of habit, thus checking the desire for
re-organisation and change, causes changes for the
most part to take place gradually without any
profound disturbance of the life of the community,
or of the structure of the Society within it.

This is the good side of habit, without which the
stable existence of Society, and even of the com-
munity itself, would be difficult, if not impossible.
But habit has another side, and here its operations
are by no means an unmixed blessing. It not only
offers resistance to changes which would imperil
the stability of Society, but often to changes which
are necessary for its preservation and development.
It not only prevents the primitive destruction of
associations or institutions or customs which incur

194

THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS

a temporary unpopularity, but helps to preserve
associations or institutions or customs which have
lost all social utility, or which are actively retarding
the processes of social development.

Even an individual, when he ' changes his
mind,' by casting off an old belief, or prejudice, or
fruit of bad reasoning, does not usually do so by a
quite sudden and simple act of conversion. He
ordinarily passes through a period of doubt, and, if
the behef which is being discarded has with it a
strong force of custom or habit, he wiU often con-
tinue to act on the old belief until the long process
of conversion is absolutely complete, and even
after it is complete when his wiU is not vigilant to
prevent him from doing so. Far more is this the
case with social changes. Associations, institu-
tions and customs continue apparently in full force,
not only while the faith of men in their social
utility is passing away, but even long after it has
passed away. So strong is the social force of habit,
not only upon the individual, but stiU more upon
crowds, organised groups and communities.

It is therefore a phenomenon found in almost
every community at almost every stage of its
development that, side by side with fully-grown
associations, institutions and customs, and with such
as are beginning to grow and to achieve recognition,
there exist other associations, institutions and
customs which have lost their savour and social
utility, or, to use a convenient phrase, have be-
come atrophied. Moreover, it will often be foimd
that these atrophied social phenomena occupy,
at any rate conventionally, the highest place in

195

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

social honour, and appear on the surface as integral
parts of the structure of Society and necessary
bonds of commuiiity.

Samuel Butler, who has stated far better than
anyone else-the social force and character of habit
and ' unconscious memory,' made, in his Erewhon
novels, the best existing study of this phenomenon
of atrophy. The ' Musical Banks ' of Erewhon,
whatever their application to our own Society,
form the best possible example of an atrophied
institution, and the worship of the goddess
' Ydgrun ' — more familiarly known in this country
as Mrs. Grundy — expresses the power of habit over
us which causes such survivals. There are, no
doubt, extreme cases ; but anyone can think of
instances in which the social status of a firmly and
long-established institution is out of all proportion
to its surviving social utility.

This phenomenon of survival of the ' shell '
when the function has passed from it occurs princi-
pally in the case of those social forms which we
decided to call " institutions.' ^ It will be re-
membered that we there defined an institution as
' an idea which is manifested concretely in some
aspect of social conduct, and which forms a part of
the underljdng assumptions of communal life.'
We also said that it may be manifested either " in
men's personal conduct or relationships or through
organised groups or associations.'

An institution, then, may be embodied in an
association ; but neither are aU institutions embodied
in associations, nor do all associations embody

' See Chapter II., pp. 41 ff.
196

THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS

institutions. An institution is a social form,
whether it be embodied in an association, or a
custom or something else, which has behind it a
strong ' force of habit ' based upon a historic
importance .of function. There are thus two ele-
ments which go to the conferring of institutional
status. An idea only acquires the status of an in-
stitution by performing over a considerable period
of time an essential social function, and thus
becoming important to men's habits as well as to
their reasons ; but, this status once acquired, habit
will usually outlast reason, and maintain the in-
stitution in being and in enjoyment of status after
its function has ceased to exist or be socially
important.

I have said that an association may embody, or
enjoy the status of, an institution, and in the second
chapter I instanced States and Churches as examples
of this. As we saw in Chapter II., an association
is not an institution, but it may become the embodi-
ment or social expression of an institution. Strictly
speaking, it is not " the State ' that is an institu-
tion, but social order, of which the State is regarded,
on the score of certain past services, as the. embodi-
ment — ^not • the Church,' but the Spirit of God on
earth, which the Church with its apostolic tradition
is regarded as expressing. An institution is always
at bottoni an idea, a behef or a commandment,
and never an actual thing. It attaches itself to
things, but it is not identical with things.

This difference has to be brought out in order to
explain fuUy how we manage at all to rid ourselves
of atrophied institutions, or, as we should now say,

197

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

atrophied expressions of institutions. Where the
idea or belief itself, that is to say the institution
itself becomes atrophied, the force of habit finally
dies out, and the institution passes away, perhaps
long after the usefulness has been outlived. But
where the idea or belief remains vital, but the
association or law or custom in which it is
embodied ceases, under altered conditions, truly
to express it, there, failing the adaptation of
the association, law or custom, the idea which is
the real ' soul ' of the institution transfers itself
to some other law or custom, and the old ' body '
of the institution decays and finally disappears.
In this case, too, there is probably a long period
during which, though the soul has departed from it,
the body of the institution continues apparently to
flourish, and retains its social status to all outward
seeming unimpaired.^

In our treatment of associations, we dwelt on
the fact that often, in the history of Societies, the
same function passes at different periods from one
association to another. Thus, industry passed frorii
the Mediaeval Guilds to the capitalist employer,
and is now passing, at least in part, into the con-
trol of the Trade Unions. But some Mediaeval
Guilds still linger on in the atrophied form of
Livery Companies, and, when Capitalism has
ceased to exist, certainly if there is no violent
revolution, and probably even if there is, atrophied

1 Foreign observers often mistake such atrophied bodies of
institutions for the real soul of a people. The pre-revolutionary
legend of Russia, as told for example by Mr. Stephen Graham,
furnishes a good example.

198

THE ATROPHY OF INSTITUTIONS

survivals of capitalist association will continue in
existence.

In the sphere of social organisation, it is pro-
foundly true that

' Each age is a dream that is dying.
And one that is coming to birth.'

For the associations, customs, laws and conven-
tions among which we live are a queer mixture of
obsolete and obsolescent survivals from the past,
with other social forms ' in the prime of life,' and
yet others which are only beginning to assume the
true social shape of their maturity. The social
prophet is not he who builds ■Utopia'^ out of his own
imagination, but he who can see in these rising
associations, in these laws which are ' precedents,'
and in these forming habits the signs of the future,
and can rightly say whither they are tending or
what social functions they can be made to serve.
The soimdest part of the Marxian philosophy is that
which inculcates the lesson that the structure of a
new social order must be built up within the old
while it is still in being, and that the face of Society
can only be changed when new associations and
ways of hfe have been created within the fabric of
the old in readiness to take its place.

It is true that this doctrine appears in Marxism
coupled with the deadening determinism which
vitiates the whole system. The appearance of the
new forms within the old is made to appear as
something inevitable, and not as the product of
will and effort. Even as we followed Samuel
Butler in applying to social theory his doctrine of
habit, we may follow him here in applying his

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

doctrine of evolution. Let us be, as he would
have said, Lamarckians rather than Darwinians
in our theory of social development. We need not
deny or minimise the vast influence of material
conditions in causing social changes and directing
the course of social development ; but we can still
believe that the creation of new social forms for
old, and stiU more the right direction and utilisa-
tion of those new social forms which arise out of
changing material conditions, is a matter which
human wills can influence and which indeed depend
essentially upon men's active will to take advantage
of their opportunities.

200

CHAPTER XIV
CONCLUSION

THE foregoing chapters embody an attempt
to state, in the smallest possible compass,
the essential principles of social organisa-
tion. Their primary concern has been not with
the actual associations which exist in the com-
mmiity, nor with any attempt at classifying the
various forms of association, but with the moral
and psychological problems imderlying social
organisation in its actual and possible forms among
men and in communities like our own. This
limitation is necessary, because it may be that
there are peoples and communities so different
from our own that the generalisations which we
make for ourselves out of our own experience
simply do not apply to them, or apply only with
changes so fundamental as to be incalculable by
us. In Western Europe, the conditions, psycho-
logical and material, which underlie social organisa-
tion are homogeneous enough to admit of generahsa-
tions that possess a real content. But I should
hesitate to apply even to Russia generalisations
based on West European study and experience,
and still less should I venture to apply them to

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

the civilisations of the East. It must be -enough
for us if we can make a social theory which will
explain our own communities, and help us to bring
them, in their structure and functioning, into a
more real harmony with the wills of the men and
women of whom they are composed.

There are many persons, considering themselves
as practically-minded, who scorn altogether the
sort of social theory with which this book is con-
cerned. In their eyes, social and political practice
is a mass of expedients, devised to overcome
particular difficulties, and not derivable from any
philosophic theory of Society. You can, they hold,
usefully classify and arrange for future reference
these various expedients ; you can make lists of
the forms of social organisation, and study, by
the method of comparison, the actual expedients
employed in various communities. But they hold
that it is useless to attempt, from the study of
these expedients, to discover universal principles,
or to pretend to find in them the working of certain
universal ideas of human association.

Thajt the ad ual. ^structure of existing Societies
is to a great extent made up of poHtical and social
expedients devised, with no theoretic arriere-
pensee, to meet particular problems, I most fully
agree ; but it has been part of my purpose to show
that these expedients, both in their successes and
still more in their failures, clearly reveal the working
of the universal principles upon which the main
stress has been laid. The clash between the actual
structure of present-day communities and the
general principles which govern success in social

202

CONCLUSION

organisation is manifest in every aspect of the
communal life to-day — ^not only in that organised
part of it which we have called Society, but in its
reaction upon the unorganised parts of the Kves
of the men and women who are the members of
the community. Society to-day is, indeed, a
" big, booming, buzzing confusion," and it will
continue to be impossible to clear this confusion
away until we reaHse that its causes lie in our
ignoration of the most essential conditions of
successful association — the principles of democratic
functional organisation and democratic representa-
tion according to function.

While we recognise, however, that much of the
malaise of communities to-day arises from the
failure of their leaders to grasp and apply these
fundamental principles, it is equally essential to
understand that these principles themselves are
not the inventions of the theorist or social philoso-
pher, but are, however imperfectly, at work every-
where around us in Society. Everywhere men's
striving to find expression for their social purposes
leads them to base their action upon these principtes,
and everywhere they find themselves thwarted by
actual forms of organisation which run directly
counter to them, either because of the atrophy of
a once useful form or because some vested interest
has interfered so as to cause a perversion or opposi-
tion of function among essential forms of association.
Society is everywhere the scene of conflict between
the spontaneous outbursts of the principle of
functional democracy and the resistance of
estabUshed associations and institutions which are

Z03

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

either based upon, or have come to stand for, a
perversion of social function.

In these circumstances, it is natural that the
true principles of social organisation usually find
their purest expression in the associations of revolt.
There is a tendency, in some degree inevitable, of
things established and powerful to deteriorate and
suffer perversion, and, in any Society, the recall
to sanity wiU largely come from those spontaneous
groupings which form themselves in opposition to
the groups in power. This tendency would exist
even in the most perfectly organised community ;
but it is greatly intensified in the communities of
to-day by the almost complete absence of any
functional principle in the groups which at present
hold the recognised forms of social power. The
promise of the Society of to-morrow is in the
revolts of to-day.

I have tried to make as clear as possible through-
out this book that human Society is neither a
mechanism nor an organism. It is not a machine
which we can invent and put together at will in
the measure of our collective capacity ; and still
less is it a thing that grows without being made
by our wills. We cannot describe its processes of
growth and change in terms of any other body of
knowledge, natural or imnatural. It has a method
and processes of its own. Thus, a group of men
living together in some particular relation within
a community needs something. There may be a
dozen different ways in which the need can be met.
Perhaps no one devises a way of meeting it, and
in that case the need goes unsatisfied. Perhaps,

204

CONCLUSION

on the other haod, someone, or the group as a whole,
finds, or stumbles upon, a way either of creating
some new organisation to supply the need, or of
adapting an existing organisation to deal with it.
More or less successfully, the necessary steps are
taken, and a new social development is inaugurated.
This development would not take place without
the need being more or less clearly present — ^that
is the material or environmental basis of social
organisation. But neither would the development
take place unless human wills devised a way of
meeting the need — ^that is its human or psycho-
logical basis.

This, however, is only the first stage in the develop-
ment. The new, or re-created, organisation arises
to meet a need ; but it not only more or less per-
fectly meets the need, but also exerts an influence
on the other organisations which exist side by side
with it in the community. It has therefore next
to find its proper place in the general structure of
Society and in the community as a whole. As an
actual organisation, it presents itself as a fact of
which Society has to take account. Here, again,
the factor of human will comes into play. There
may be a dozen different ways, of varying merit,
of assigning to the new organisation its place and
recognition in Society. Perhaps none of these
ways, or a bad way, is adopted. In that case, the
new organisation acts as a disruptive force in
Society, and may, if it is strong enough, end by
tearing the social structure asunder, and compelling
a fundamental reconstruction. Or, on the other
hand, it may be itself destroyed, even if it is

205

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

performing a useful function in Society. Perhaps,
however, a reasonable way is found of fitting the
new organisation into the social structure. In
that case, the new organisation enters into the
structure of Society, and in doing so both modifies
Society as a whole and is itself modified. These
are the normal and pecuhar processes of social
development.

I am labouring this point in order to make it
clear that important social changes are usually
inaugurated in the parts and not in the whole of
Society, and often nearer to its circumference than
to its centre. It is usually difficult, and often
impossible, to foresee in the early stages of such a
process as I have described the nature or extent
of the social change that is really beginning. The
best social prophet and the best constructive states-
man are those who have most the power of divining,
among the many new movements and associations
which are constantly arising and among the old
ones which are constantly undergoing modification
to suit new needs, those particular organisations
which are most likely to effect large changes in
the whole structure of Society.

This may seem a truism ; but it has a moral
which is not so generally recognised. " Keep your
eye on the new movements and organisations,
and always estimate them in accordance less with
what they actually are than with what they seem
capable of becoming " is the first maxim of social
wisdom. Big social changes are seldom, if ever,
created or at least maintained, tmless the impetus
to change has behind it the force of an organised

206

CONCLUSION

group or association based on a vital common-
need. In the welter of revolution, the power to
build a new order will belong to those who have
behind them the most coherent form of social
organisation, the form best fitted among those
available to replace the old order and provide for
the effective fulfilment of vital social functions.
It is the possession by the working-class move-
ments of such strong and purposeful forms of
organisation as Trade Unionism and Co-operation
that makes their inheritance of the task of recon-
structing Society almost certain.

No doubt, it wiU be said that this conviction
of the coining of a new order, called into being
largely as a result of the emergence of the new
forms of social power which these working-class
movements represent, has coloured much of the
writing contained in this book. Of course it has
done so. It is the business of the theorist to
interpret in terms of ideas the actual forces and
tendencies by which he is surrounded. Anyone
with the smallest degree of social vision can see
that the existing structure of Society is doomed
either to ignominious collapse or to radical trans-
formation. Anyone ought to be able to see that
the social theories based upon this structure are
bound to share its fate. Theory which is content
merely to interpret the established order will in-
evitably misinterpret ; for the truth about the
established order is only visible when that order
is confronted with its successor growing up within
itself. Theory ought to get ahead of actual develop-
ment ; for the chief value of theory lies in helping

207

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

men to act more intelligently in the present by
giving them a power to grasp the principles which
must go to make the future. These principles —
any social principles — are, of course, only true upon
certain assumptions ; and I have not hesitated to
make certain assumptions the basis on which the
whole theory of this book is built. What are
these assumptions ?

I assume that the object of social organisation
is not merely material efficiency, but also essentially
the fullest self-expression of all the members.
I assume that self-expression involves self-govern^
ment, and that we ought to aim not merely at
giving people votes, but at caUing forth their full
participation in the common direction of the affairs
of the community.

If anyone questions these assumptions, there is
no way of proving them either true or untrue. If
it is contended that men only ask for peace and
quietness, and do not want to govern themselves,
I answer in the first place that this is not true,
and, secondly, that, if it were true, we ought not
to acquiesce in such a state of affairs, but to alter
it as speedily as possible. In short, it has been
assumed throughout this book that human beings
have wills, and that they have a right and duty
to use those wills to their full capacity in the
direction of Society. These, I think, are my only
assumptions. For the rest, the arguments used
to prove each point may be sound or they may be
unsound. No doubt they are mixed ; but my
object has been not to achieve finality or write a
definitive book, but to set others to work upon

208

CONCLUSION

problems which I have only raised. The time for
a new and definitive social theory is not yet ; but
it is high time for our generation to set about
lajdng the foundations of a theory more responsive
to modern development than that which at present
holds sway. Orthodox social theory is bankrupt :
it neither corresponds to the facts of to-day, nor
affords any help in interpreting the tendencies
which are shaping a new social order within the
old. There are already, in the writings of su?;h
men as Maitland, Figgis, and the Guild Socialists,
scane of the elements necessary to a new theory ;
and my main object has been to express what seem
to me the essential principles of this theory, certainly
not in a final, but, I hope, in an intelligible form,
in order that, even if they are not accepted, they
may at least be criticised and discussed.

209

BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTES

There is, of course, an immense literature dealing with
^social and political theory in its various aspects and from
different points of view. These notes are not intended to
do more than indicate a few of the books which I have
found most useful, by way either of attraction or of
repulsion, in forming my own view. The list could be
indefinitely prolonged.

{A.) GENERAL

Maciver, R. M. — Community, a Sociological Study. (Mac-
miQan.)

[This is by far the best general book I know. It is
especially useful on the nature of community and for
the study of associations.]

Rousseau, J. J. — Social Contract and Discourses, edited
and translated by G. D. H. Cole. (Dent.)

[Rousseau's Social Contract remains by far the
greatest and most stimulating study of the basis of
social obligation.]

Barker, E. — Political Thought from Herbert Spencer to the
Present Day. (Williams & Norgate.)
[A useful introductory study.]

Burns, C. Delisle. — Political Ideals. (Oxford University
Press.)

[A short study of the historical development of
political ideals.]

'" 210

BIBLIOGRAPHY

(5.) SPECIAL
CHAPTER I

Wallas, Graham. — Human Nature in Politics. (Con-
stable.)

The Great Society. (Macmillan.)

LiPPMANN, Walter. — A Preface to Politics. (Mitchell
Kennerley.)

Brown, W. Jethro. — The Principles underlying Modern
Legislation. (Murray.)

Ritchie, D. G. — Natural Rights. (G. AUen & Unwin).

Darwinism and Politics. (G. Allen & Unwin.)

BosANQUET, Bernard. — The Philosophical Theory of the

States. (Macmillan.)
Anson, Sir W. R. — The Law and Custom of the Constitu-
tion. (Oxford University Press.)
Dicey, A. V. — The Law of the Constitution. (Macmillan.)
Pollock, Sir F. — History of the Science of Politics. (Mac-
millan.)
Jenks, Edward. — The State and the Nation. (Dent.)
Bagehot, Walter. — Physics and Politics., (Kegan Paul.)

The English Constitution. (Nelson.)

Macijougall, William. — Social Psychology. (Methuen.)
Macdonald, J. R. — Socialism and Society. (Independent
Labour Party.)

CHAPTER II
Maciver. — Op. cit.

CHAPTER III

Plato. — Republic, translated by A. D. Lindsay. (Dent.)
Barker, E. — The Political Thought of Plato and Aristotle.

(Methuen.)
De Maeztu, Ramiro. — Authority, Liberty and Function.

(G. Allen & Unwin.)

211

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

HoBSON, S. G., and Orage, A. R. — National Guilds. (Bell.)
Cole, G. D. H. — Self-Government in Industry. (Bell.)
Labour in the Commonwealth. (Headley.)

CHAPTER IV

Maciver. — Op. cit.

Gierke, O. — Political Theories of the Middle Ages, edited

with an Introduction by F. W. Maitland. (Cambridge

University Press.)

CHAPTER V AND CHAPTER VIII

Laski, H. J. — Studies in the Problem of Sovereignty. (Oxford

University Press.)
Authority in the Modern State. (Oxford University

Press.)

BOSANQUET, B. Op. cit.

Hobhouse, L. T. — The Metaphysical Theory of the State.

(G. Allen & Unwin.)
Paul, William. — The State : its Origin and Function.

(Socialist Labour Press.)
Cole, G. D. H.—Op. cit.
Brown, W. Jethro. — The Austinian Theory of Law.

(John Murray.)

CHAPTERS VI-VII

Rousseau. — Op. cit.

MicHELS, R. — Democracy and the Organisation of Political

Parties.
Belloc, Hilaire, and Chesterton, Cecil. — The Party

System. (Swift.)
Mill, J. S. — Representative Government.

CHAPTER IX

Marx, Karl. — Capital. 3 volumes.

and Engels, F. — The Communist Manifesto.

212

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Paul, William. — Op. cit.
HoBSON and Orage. — Op. cit.
Cole. — Op. cit.

CHAPTER X

Fawcett, C. B. — The Natural Divisions of England. (Royal
Geographical Society.)

The Provinces of England. (Williams & Norgate.)

Brun, Charles. — Le Rigionatisme.

CHAPTER XI

Figgis, J. N. — Churches in the Modern State. (Longmans.)
Roberts, R. — The Church in the Commciwealth. (Headley.)
Marson, C. L. — God's Co-operative Society. (Longmans.)
Report of the Archbishops' Committee on Church and State.

CHAPTER XII

Russell, Bertrand. — Roads to Freedom. (G. Allen &

Unvsrin.)
Principles of Social Reconstruction. (G. AUen &

Unwin.)
Mill, J. S. — Liberty.
Cecil, Lord Hugh. — Liberty and Authority. (Edward

Arnold.)

CHAPTER XIII

Butler, Samuel. — Erewhon. (Fifield.)

Life and Habit. (Fifield.)

Ward, James. — Heredity and Memory. (Cambridge Uni-
versity Press.)

213

INDEX

Action, relation to organisa-
tion, 33
Ad hoc organisation, 99 f., 168
Administration, 113, 162. See
also Government

— regional, 166
A. E., 35

Air Force, 141

Amalgamation, 58

American social theory, 19

Analogies, use of, 14

Anarchy, 181

Anthropology, 18

Areas, 158 ff.

Army, 42, 141, 142

Associations, 5, 7, 9, 11, 14, 17,
25, 26, 30, 35-6, S3,
Chaj) ly., 104, 125, 207

— administrative, 72, 74

— appetitive, 68-9, 134 f.

— coercion in, 128

— definition of, 32 fi., 37

— development of, 56

— diseases of , 1 8

— ' essential,' 65 ff., 74, 75 fi.,

134 f-

— forms of. Chap. IV.

— government of , 104 fE,, ii7fE.

— motives of, 77 fi.

— philanthropic, 71

— poHtical, 67, 134. See also

State and Local Govern-
ment

— propagandist, 73-4

— provident, 70

— relation to institutions,

196 fi.

— religious, 69-70. See also

Churches

— rules of, 40

Associations, sociable, 71

— theoretical, 71-72

— vocational, 68, 72, 97, 134 f,,

136. See also Trade

Unions and Employers'

Associations
Assumptions, social, 208
Atrophy, social, 38, 39, 43 fi.,

75, Chap. XIII., 203
Austinian theory of law, 5, 212
Australia, 164

Balance of Powers, 124-5
Belloc, Hilaire, 122, 151, 152,

212
' Black Lists,' 129
Bolshevism, 10, 61
Bosanquet, Bernard, 22, 93,

211
British Empire, 164
Burke, Edmund, 22
Butler, Samuel, 45 196, 199,

213

Cabinet system, the, 108, 122
Canada, 164

CapitaUsm, 42, 147 fi., 198
Caste, 42

Catholicism, Roman, 89, 172
Charity organisation, 70
Chesterton, Cecil, 122, 212
Chesterton, G. K., 160^
Children, 130

Church and State, 138, 172,
177

— of England, 172
Churches, 9, 10, 18, 22, 38, 42,

61, 70, 73, 76, loi, 129,
Chap. XI.

— as institutions, 197

215

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

Churches, Free, 172
City, 27'

State, 86, 95, 107

Clan, the, 12
Class-dictatorship, 88

discrimination, 87

privilege, 87

war, ijo, 152, 155, 171

Classes, economic, 153

— social, 87 f.
Clubs, 71

Coal Industry Commission, 1 59
Coercion, case against, 1 39 ff .
Coercive power, 5, 126-7,

Chap. VIII., 186, 1:89 f.
Collectivism, 86, 98, 1 52
Colvin, Ian, 54
Committees, 121
Communism, 10, 69, 152
Community, 22, 97

— definition of, 25-6

— relation to State, 64

— spirit of, 35, 120, 169
Companies, Hmited, 36, 68, 73

— Livery, 43-4, 198
Company law, 88
Conflicting Social Obligations,

141
Consent as basis of society,

91. 113
Conservatism, 44
Consular service, 84
Consumers, organisation of, 69,

98 ff.
Control of Industry, 153, 198
Co-operative Societies, 73, 207
Co-ordination, 88, loi. Chap.

VIII., 167 f., 176 fE., 183,

189
Corporate bodies, position of, 6
County Councils, 170
Coventry, sending to, 129
Cox, R. W. T., 152
Crowd psychology, i8j
Custom, 5, 25, 42, 44, 45, 195

— definition of, 45

— relation to institutions, 45

Darwinism, 200 ^
Decentralisation, 164

Delegate versus representative,

109 ff.
Delegation, 118
Democracy, 9, 90, Chap. VI.,

160. See also Functional

Organisation
Despotism, 90
Devolution, i6i f.
Direct action, 60
Divine Right of .Kings, 8, 90
Domestic system in industry,

13
Dominion Government, 85
Duckham, Sir A., 159

Eastern civilisation, 202
Economic aspects of society,

37, 59, 64, 72, 98, Chap.

IX., 158

— power, 144 ff., 153 ff.
Efi&ciency, 208
Elasticity, social, 39
Elected persons, audacity of,

105, 121
Election, indirect, 167 ff.
Employers' associations, 59,

68, 77. 150, 154. 171
' End in itself,' 23
Engels, F., 144, 147, 212
Environment, 1,2, 205
Equality, economic, 151, 153,

156, 186-7
Erewhon 196, 213
Establishment, the, 173
Ethics, relation to social theory,

7, 14, 20, 49
Europe, Western, 20 1
Executive power, 123

Factory Acts, 83
Family, 11 ff., 26, 64

— analogy from, 1 3
Federal Governments, 84

— organisation, 134 ff., 164
Figgis, J. N., 10, 209, 213,
Filmer, Sir R., 13

Free will, 183

Friendly Societies, 70, 73

Function, confusion of, 57 ff.

216

INDEX

Function in relation to indi-
vidual, 48-9

— opposition of, 57-9

— perversion of, 57-9, 60-2,

122 fi., 145, 148, 156, 184,
203
Functional Equity, Court of,

137 ff-

— organisation, 9, 10, Chap.

III., 79, 107, 125, 130 ff.,
134 ff., 154, 162 ff., 194,
203, 207
Functions, demarcation of, 55

Geddes, Patrick, 160

General Will, 23, 51. See

Will as Basis of Society
Gierke, Otto, 11, 212
Gilds, mediaeval, 43, 64, 85, 198
Government, Chap. VII.

— Dominion, 85, 164

— federal, 84,. 164
Governments, common will of,

120

— tendency to deteriorate, 19,

120
Graham, Stephen, 198
Groups, temporary, 40
Grundy, Mrs., 196
Guild Socialism, 10, 140, 152,

209
Guilds, mediaeval. See Gilds

Habit, 194 ff.

Hegel, 22

History, constitutional, 18

— ecclesiastical, 18

— materialist conception of,

146, 152

— relation to social theory,

II f.
Hobbes, 8

Hobhouse, L. T., 93, 212
Hungary, 65

Individual, 49-50

— relation to society, 4, 5, 62

— unorganisable aspects of,

31, 139, 160, 179, 180 ff.
See also Personal Rights

Industrial Revolution, 86, 147

— self-government, lo-
Innovation, method of social.

204 f ., 206 f .
Institutions, 25, 30, 44

— atrophy of. Chap. XIII.

— definition of, 41, 43, 196 f.

— relation to associations,

196 ff.
Insurance Companies, 70

— mutual, 70

— State, 84

' Interests,' 52

International social structure,

46, 88 ff., 141
Ireland, 28, 30-1, 35

Joint Council of functional

bodies, 135 ff.
Judiciary, 123, 137

Kant, 183

Labour in the Commonwealth,

141, 143, 212
Labour legislation, 84

— Research Department, 159
Lamarckism, 200

Law, 6, 8, II, 15, 18, 20, 123
137, 164, 198. See also
Lynch Law

— Roman, 1 1

— Society, 129
Leadership, iii

League of Nations, 98, 141, 143
Learned societies, 71-2
Legislation, Chap. VII., 186

— commercial, 84

— functional, 125 ff.

— labour, 84

Liberty, Chap. XII. See also
Personal Rights and In-
dividual

— personal, 184

— social, 182 f.

' Life and Liberty ' move-
ment, 70, 173

Local Government, S, 67, yj^,
84 f., 87, Chap. X.

— English, 164

217

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

Local patriotism, i6o, 169 f.
Locke, John, 83
Lords, House of, 136
Loyalties,conflictof,27,i40,i89
Lynch law, 130

Maitland, F. W., 11, 209, 212
Majorities, apathetic, 22

— tyranny of, 188 f.
Mal-distribution, 153, 1S6
Mann, J. E. F., 152
Marriage, 42, 43, 45, 87
Marx, 144, 145, 147, 212
Marxism, 10, 148,149, 151, 153,

156, 162, 199
Materialist conception of his-
tory, 146, 152
Mechanical theory of society,

14, 21, 204
Medical Council, General, 129
Mercantile System, 85
Michels, R., 18, 122, 212
Middle Ages, lo, 43, 64, 85,

138, J47. 172
Militarism, 142
Milner, Dennis, 85
Mining, 97, 159
Minorities, conscious, 22

— dissentient, 57
Misrepresentation, 107, 108,

i59f.
Monarchy, 42, 43
Monogamy, 42
Montesquieu, 18, 19
Morning Post, 54
Motives, ' associative,' yy, 135

— ' several,' 77

— social, 18, Chap. IV.
Municipal trading, 84
Musical Banks, 196

Napoleon of Notting Hill, The,

160
Nation, 26, 46, 95

State, 86, 95

' National Guildsmen,' 88
Navy, 42, 141, 142
New Age, 8S
' New Heptarchy,' 166
Non-adult races, 130

Non-unionism, 129

Officials, 104 flf., 118
Oligarchy, 9
One man one vote, 114
Orders in Council, 124
Organic theory of society, 14,

21, 204
Organisation, a necessary evil,

185-6
Osborne Judgment, 39
Ostrogorski, 39
' Other- worldflness,' 174

Papacy, the, 172

Parliament, 68, 108, T 14, 119,
124, 150, 167

Party System, 122

Paul, William, 148, 212

Peasant proprietorship, i s i

Peerage, 42, 43

Penty, A. J., 160

Personee fictie, 11

Personal rights, 87, loi, 131,
139, i8rfi. See also In'
dividual and Liberty

' Personality,' social, 14, 1 5

Physiology, 20

Plato, 48, 211

Plutocracy, 109

Police, 137

— Union, 9

Political activities, definition
of, 86

— organisation, 168-9. See also

State and Local Govern-
ment

relation to economic,

144 fi., 176

— parties, 26, 41, 68, 73

— theory, 4, 9, 156
Primitive civilisation, 11-12,

18, 29, 64, 147
Profits, 58
Proportional Representation,

167
Provincial Home Rule, i6b
Psychology, 14

— physiological, 20

— social, 10, 15, 18, 19, 20, 21

218

INDEX

Public utility services, 158 f.
Purposes, individual, 33. See
also Wants and Motives

— social, 25, 33, 38, 52, 53-4.

See also Wants and
Motives

Recall, III, 167
Referendum, 118, 133-4
Regionalism, 85, Chap. X.
Religious disputes, 150-1
Representation, Chap. VI.,
iS9f., 191

— functional, 100, 105 rf.,

119. See also Functional
Organisation
Representative Government,
18, 103 fi., 114, 117 ff.,
iz3fi

— or delegate, 109
Republics, 43

Research, industrial, 72, 84
* Reunion all round,' 17s
Revolt as form of progress, 204
Revolution, 60-1, 94, 198, 207

— EngUsh, 83

Rights, personal. See Personal

— political, 94

Rousseau, 6, 19, 20, 21, 22, 51,

105, 120, 133, 210
Rousseau's Emile, 20
Rules, associative, 40

— ethical, 40

Russell, Bertrand, 140, 213
Russia, 61, 65, 198, 201

Schools, 2

Science, 13

Second Chamber, vocational,

136
Selection, social, 54
Self-government, case for, 208
Self-Government in Industry,

100, 123, 135.212
Sex relationships, 87
Sievers, N. J., 152
Social content of action, 7

— contract, 8

— ttieory, scope of, 3, 7, 8, 17,

202 fi.

Social theory, method of, 14
Socialism, international, 89
Society, 25, 66

— as mechanism, 14, 21, 204

— as organism, 14, 21, 204

— as person, 14'

— correlation of organisations

in, 204 fi. See also Co-
ordination

— definition of, 29
Sociology, 18
Sovereignty, 10, 102, 126, 133,

140, 143, 145, 162, 190
Soviets, 121

Spencer, Herbert, 21, 180 .
' State, The,' 4, 5, 10, 18, 22, 29,

42, 64, 67, 69, 73, Chap. V„

112, 119, 183, 188

— and Individual, 4, 9,

Chap. XII. See also In-
dividual

— and society, 6

— as association, 81, 95

— as coercive power, 128 fi.,

131 fi., 145-6

— as compulsory association,

94 . .

— as territorial association, 95

— bonus scheme, 85

— co-ordinating activities of,
, 88, loi fi.

— economic activities of, 83 fi.,

97 fi.

— employees, 84

— external relations of, 88,

141 f.

— functions of, 82 ff., 96 fi.,

136

— in industry, 84 -

— members of, 93-4

— poUtical activities of, 86 ff.,

100 f.

— SociaUsm. See Collectiv-

ism

— structure of, 90 ff.
States, actual, 16

— democratic, 91-2

— joint action of, 89

— modern, 82
Strikes, 60, 145

219

AN INTRODUCTION TO SOCIAL THEORY

struggle for bread, 152-3

— for power, 153
Subjects, 93
Suffrage, universal, 95
SyndicaUsm, 10, 152

Taxation, 8;

Terminology of social theory,

16, 23, Chap. II.
Theory, value of, 207 f .
Town-planning, 160
Trade Union law, 88

— Unions, 2, 9, 26, 39, 41,

S9. 60, 68, 70, 73, -jT, 79,
95, loi, 124, 128, 147, 150,
155. 171. 198, 207

Tribe, 29

Trusts, 84, 159

Universitas, 177
University, 2, 26

Utopias, 193, 199

Votes, 94, 1 1 5-6, 1 1 8-9, 208

Wallas,, Graham, 19, 211
Wants, ' associative,' 34, 77

— ' several,' 34, 77

— social, 33, 204-5. See also

Motives and Purposes
War, 141 ft.
Ward, James, 45, 213
Webb, S. andB., 159
Whitman, Walt, 105
Will, as basis of society, 6, 7, 8,

22, 103, 193, 200, 204

— General, 23, 51

' Will ' of association, 22

— ' real,' 91, 92-3, 188
Women, 2, 5

World community, 26, 142

Ydgrun, 196

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