must seek and obtain the backing of their home governments, with resultant international rivalry, hostility, war.

In a short time there will be one new element in the situation, new, at any rate, to us. In a generation our strong men of speculative finance will be established in the undeveloped countries; concessions will figure conspicuously among the items of our national wealth. The foreign contingent of our capital will join in the battle for exploitative advantages. And who shall say that our country may not be a protagonist of the next great war? One-half of I per cent of our capital just failed of forcing us to subjugate Mexico.

If we could confidently predict the industrialization of the backward countries, we should be able to foresee an end of this one most fruitful of all sources of international strife. But China will not be industrialized for a generation at least; and many generations must elapse before the tropics are concession-proof. Accordingly the one hope for universal peace would appear to lie in the possibility of divorcing, in the popular consciousness, the concessionary interest from the national interest.

The concession and the closed trade are the fault lines in the crust of civilization. Solve the problem of the concession and the closed trade, the earth hunger will have lost its strongest stimulus, and peace, when restored, may abide throughout the world.

- III

SOCIAL CONTROL IN MODERN INDUSTRIALISM

Our historical study has shown that our "system" as a whole is in process of development. But novelty and goodness are not one; the newer society because of its newness is not perforce better than the old; our world, though transformed, has not of necessity become a better world in which to live. Movement there always is; but movement may or may not mark an advance. This possible antithesis between development and progress raises perhaps the most important of all current problems, for in its terms other problems must find their “solution." Should society allow its development to take its "natural course," or should it attempt to control it?

No absolute answer can be given to so universal a question. If the natural course gives evidence of being the path we would mark out, obviously we should keep our hands off. If for such a reason laissez faire is deliberately chosen, paradoxical as it seem, it becomes merely a convenient instrument of social control. But if the "system is going awry," what shall we do? Just as obviously we should, to the extent of our intelligence and power, attempt to control the process.

But can we control so complex and many-sided a thing as social development? Unfortunately to this question we cannot give an unqualified affirmative. Many social "forces" are beyond our ken and power; others, of which we have some knowledge, cannot be reached by any contrivances which we have yet perfected; given programs promising definite results have the perversity to produce undreamed of complications; and immediate consequences have fallen into the disagreeable habit of distracting our attention from more ultimate and important results. It seems, therefore, that the wholesale prescription of "remedies" and the amateurish tinkering with parts are likely to prove dangerous. Yet, if we are sufficiently conscious of the limitations under which we are working, we can do something toward directing the movement. We know something of the elements involved; we have had much experience that should stand us in some stead; and we have evolved some very remarkable agencies of control. If we proceed cautiously, make our programs flexible, and quickly change our procedure to meet the unexpected contingencies which are inevitable, there is reason for faith in our ability eventually to accomplish much. If we essay the task, we shall need a knowledge of the means of control, a theory of the use of these means, and a consciousness of the "end" for which they are used. Let us consider these in

turn.

Even if our desires be quite modest, they will necessitate the use of numerous and varied means of control. The changes which we wish to effect may be in the structure of society, in institutions, in activities, or in values; they may call for immediate and mechanical action or they may necessitate slow and gradual adaptations; they may affect almost the whole of society or may immediately touch only a single aspect of life. For these and a myriad other uses instruments of social control are available. The state can be used to secure quick mechanical changes; the school and the church can be used slowly to effect more gradual and organic adaptations; the labor union,

by sharp, incisive action, can immediately further the interest of a group; the interest of a like group may gradually be advanced by a voluntary association using more peaceful methods; press and public opinion can reach a large part of society; occupational associations and codes of ethics can exercise a control over particular groups; and convention and tradition, through their prohibitions and inhibitions, can effectively direct the lives and activities of the individuals. Each of these agencies in its own way can be used to make the "system" somewhat different. Because of the multiplicity, variety, and efficiency of these agencies-despite the gravity of our ignorance —we could not escape social control if we would.

Our theory of the use of these "forces" has been very gradually built up, and as yet is far from complete. During most of the nineteenth century, when "the country was in a stage of increasing returns," when self-reliance was dominant, and when men dared not meddle with the rising machine-system which they very imperfectly understood, the dominant theory was that of laissez-faire. This theory overlooked entirely the influence exerted by agencies other than the state, as well as a large number of active functions performed by government, such as the protection of property and the maintenance of contract. At present the hold of individualistic theory is weakening. The frontier is gone; we are confronted by the grave problems of a mature society; we are less prone to attribute success or failure to personal merit or demerit; and we talk of "social conditions" and "inequality of opportunity." All of this inclines us to depend more upon authority, and threatens a radical extension of state activity. But there are potent checks upon this attitude. The interpretation of our constitution still proceeds from individualistic assumptions; the pecuniary organization of society still gives great weight to the views of the owners of "vested wealth"; and in many places a spirit of abandon in legislation is doing much to discredit state interference. But we are quite consciously coming to complement our theory of the province of government with a theory of the use of other agencies of control. For we are learning that we must pay for what we get, that legislation cannot produce utopias, that good is achieved rather than acquired, and that the less conspicuous agencies of control are as certain as they are slow.

A consciousness of the end for which these means are used is hardest for us to acquire. But, difficult as the task is, we must realize that, if we attempt social control we must know what we are about; we must have a tentative goal; we must appreciate the "end" at which we are aiming. To achieve that end our proposals must fit together into consistent programs; the instruments of control which we use must complement each other. This does not mean that there must be no elements of antagonism in the system, but rather that there must not be the spoiled work which comes from the confused counsel whose origin is in dealing with problems in isolation. Consciousness of the "end" also involves looking beyond immediate proposals. Beyond conflicting proposals, seemingly unimportant, lie powerful social theories, quite contradictory in the kind of societies they tend to produce. In many problems, therefore, the ultimate issue is between different systems. Shall our ideal be that of a personal and industrial feudalism, an individualistic America of the nineteenth century, a socialized Germany of the Hohenzollerns, an idealized and Marxianized state, or something else? Upon our conception of the ideal state toward which “progress” should carry us depends our "solution" of the problems which we are about to discuss.

A. THE NATURE OF PROGRESS

35. What Is Progress?1

BY JAMES BRYCE

When we say that man has advanced, or is advancing, of what lines of advance are we thinking? The lines of movement are really as numerous as are the aspects of man's nature and the activities which he puts forth. Taking his physical structure, is mankind on the whole becoming stronger, healthier, less injured by habits which depress nervous and muscular forces, and are the better stocks of men increasing faster than the inferior stocks? Considered as an acquisitive being, has man more of the things that make for comfort, more food and clothing, better dwellings, more leisure? Intellectually regarded, has he a higher intelligence, more knowledge and opportunities for acquiring knowledge, more creative capacity, more perception of beauty and susceptibility to aesthetic pleasures? Considered in his social relations, has he more personal freedom, is he less exposed to political oppression, has he fuller security for life and property, are there more or less order and concord within each community, more or less peace between nations? Lastly, is man improving as a moral being? Is there more virtue in the world, more sense of justice, more sympathy, more kindliness, more of a disposition to regard the feelings and interests of others and to deal gently with the weak? In each and all of these departments there may be progress, but not necessarily the same rate of progress, and we can perfectly well imagine a progress in some points only, accompanied by a stagnation or even a decline in other points.

When we talk of the progress of the world, do we mean an advance in all these respects, or only in some, and if so, in which of them? If in all of them, which are the most typical and the most significant? Suppose there has been an advance in some, and in others stagnation or retrogression, how shall we determine which are the most important, the most fraught with promise or discouragement? An examination of the language of popular writers indicates that the current conception has been seldom analyzed. Such writers have seemed to have assumed that an improvement in some aspects of human life means an improvement in all, perhaps an improvement to something like the same extent. Another question suggests itself. Is the so-called Law of Progress a constant one? Suppose its action in the past to have been proved, can we count upon its continuing

'Adapted from an article in the Atlantic Monthly, C, 147. Copyright (1907).

in the future, or may the causes to which its action has been due some time or other come to an end? I pass over other points that might be raised. It is enough to have shown in how vague a sense the current term has been used.

36. Evolution or Progress?2

BY L. T. HOBHOUSE

I use the term "evolution" in regard to human society, and also the term "progress." This should imply that there is some difference between them. By evolution, I mean any sort of growth; by social progress, the growth of social life in respect to those qualities to which human beings attach or can rationally attach value. Social progress, then, is only one among many possibilities of social evolution. At least it is not to be assumed that every and any form of social evolution is also a form or stage in social progress. For example, the caste system is a product of social evolution, and the more rigid and narrow the caste, the more complex the hierarchy, the more completely has the caste system evolved. But most of us would question very strongly whether it could be considered in any sense a phase of social progress. So again there is at the present day a vigorous evolution of cartels, monopolies, rings and trusts; there is an evolution of imperialism, of militarism, of socialism, of a hundred tendencies as to the good or evil of which people differ.

The fact that a thing is evolving is no proof that it is good; the fact that society has evolved is no proof that it has progressed. The point is important because under the influence of biological conceptions the two ideas are often confused, and the fact that human beings have lived under certain conditions is taken as proof of the value of those conditions, or perhaps as proving the futility of ethical ideas which run counter to evolutionary processes. Thus in a recent article I find a contemptuous reference to "the childlike desire to make things fair," which is "so clearly contrary to the order of the universe which progresses by natural selection." In this brief remark you will observe two immense assumptions, and one stark contradiction. The first assumption is that the universe. progresses-not humanity, observe, nor the mass of organic beings, nor even the earth, but the universe. The second is that it progresses by natural selection, a hypothesis which has not yet adequately explained the bare fact of the variation of organic forms on the surface of the earth. The contradiction is that progress is incompatible with fairness, the basic element in all judgments of

"Adapted from Social Evolution and Political Theory, 7-25. Copyright by the Columbia University Press (1911).